BULLIED

Submission 504

I'm a bullying victim just because of my fandom - Twilight. I loved it and many people made fun of me by calling me a "slut" and a "whore" just because I like to read a good romance novel. They say that Twilight is for "desperate girls who need a boyfriend" and that the author of Twilight should "die and jump off a cliff like Bella did".

I once found a dent in my car after school because of a rock that was thrown at it. I've been attacked by boys and my bedroom window (I have a one-story house) was painted saying "I'm a bitch". That person got expelled - thank god - but that phrase stuck with me for a while. If people went so far to get expelled to tell that to me, maybe it was true. Maybe Twilight was for sluts, whore, et cetera.

So guess what? I did the unimaginable. I burned the entire Twilight Saga, and I think it hit too close to home. See, my dead mother loved the books so in her memory, I loved them too. I felt like I was burning away parts of my mother that were still in me. I didn't cut because I couldn't bring myself to do it, but I overdosed in my allergy pills that I had to take every morning. I hoped that I would maybe die from it, so that I could join my mother, wherever she was. My father was never around, because after my mother's death, he threw himself into work. I became very self reliant on myself and a little too much. When something hit too close to home, my bases to my structure would collapse. I would collapse.

I almost died in January of 2014. I was driving out late at night and a couple of my bullies caught me. They asked for a ride and they were so nice and gave me such nice complements that I let them. I never had anybody else treat me so nicely, and they even apologized endlessly about how they treated me.

But that all changed within 10 minutes. Then they hijacked the car. While I was driving, one of the bullies grabbed my steering wheel and veered everybody to the right, the side of the car in which I was in. We crashed into a pole and everybody else had some injuries, but I had serious concussions and layers of stitches. I was injured by far worse than my bullies. My cerebellum was damaged so a lot of my coordination had been very off. Here's a flashback on what happened [why it is so accurate is that I wrote them down in my diary]:

"Where you driving drunk, miss?" the officer asked me. I shook my head, and my bullies/killers were sitting behind him, with looks threatening that if I snitched on them, they'd do something worse than get me into a car crash.

"Did your brakes feel greasy?" the officer asked another question, while he wrote down my response to the previous question. I shook my head again. The bullies were still sending me murderous glares.

"Do you know what happened?" the officer asked. I bit my bottom lip.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" the officer asked, recognizing the fear that dawned upon me. I was torn - I badly wanted to tell the officer that it was the bullies that nearly got me killed. But even though they might get expelled from school, they know where I live (thanks to the directory) and would cyberbully me endlessly.

Minutes passed, and everything was silent except for the glares and steamy looks being sent towards me. My brain was screaming at me to tell the officer the truth, while my heart was trying to mute my brain. That my life was more valuable than a couple of names to give to a man wearing a golden, shiny badge and a blue uniform with a black walkie-talkie strapped onto his left breast pocket. My fingers were more knotted than my knitting skills. I was scared, honestly. What would come of this? What would be the result? Is it really worth it?

"Miss?" the officer looked at me concerned. "Are you alright? Do you not want to talk about it?"

And what I did nearly sent my life in a haywire. "No," I said hoarsely through dry lips, a beating heart, and that word knocked the air out of my lungs.