I sat in the empty office with my mom to my side. I was shaking with consuming nervousness.
Today was the day.
I had finally gathered some courage to confront my fears. Today was the moment I had decided to end my suffering.
I had finally decided to open my silent mouth loud. Today I was determined to spill the beans on everything they had done to me.
Well, not really.
I was planning on telling them about my petition to move to another school.
There's no turning back now. There's nothing they can do to stop bullying at this point. There are thousands of classmates in this school and only a few teachers. There is nothing they can do about this.
"You had to come sooner."
That's what they told me when I had finally decided to share with them about what was happening.
They kept mentioning how I let this situation go on for so long. But what they failed to understand was that I was afraid.
Of them getting physical on me.
Afterall, there are many types of bullying. And there is nothing worse than to sacrifice your mental health for physical abuse.
The price is high.
Physical scars cicatrize in a span of weeks.
But a mental damage lasts forever and ever. The wandering sequence of trauma hangs in your mind. It becomes the oxygen you need to survive. A ghost that lingers in your mind.
Binding you to chains that won't break.
After our meeting, I came back to school.
A bitter taste remained in my mouth. Rewinding in my mind how my counselor did not seem surprised by my situation.
This only proved my mom's words, "El dueño sabe lo que hay en su casa." The owner knows what's inside his house.
I was annoyed with my counselor.
He wanted for me to come back the next day to school even though I told him that I was being bullied, and that my mind was not in the right place.
He didn't understand that I needed time to sort out my thoughts and heal those non- physical wounds.
He wanted me to tell him who was bothering me. But it was difficult for me to pinpoint exactly one person.
Like I said before, one started it and the others followed.
I could only tell him who was at fault for setting up the hell I lived in.
So, it was not fair for only one person to take the blame for the rest.
I came back to school the week after. As soon as I stepped inside the school grounds, my insides twirled.
I was back to square one.
Where everything started. Memories flooded back to my head. I was remembering the things that happened and how I felt.
How it escalated. How my fears took the best out of me.
As I passed a crowd, I spotted one of the guys who participated in the act of bullying. He wore a pissed expression. Stomping his feet with furrowed brows.
I kept my eyes straightforward. Avoiding any type of contact while I prayed he wouldn't recognize me.
"Remember the girl I told you about? The one in my fourth period who everyone said she smelled like cow shit?"
