The bully.

Chapter one: a day in the life of Elsa Symth.

I tell myself it will get better, that as soon as I get out of high school this will all end. It's hard, sometimes harder than others, to get rid of that voice in my head that tells me what he says is true, that the names he call me are accurate.

I would never have told him how I felt if I knew he would react this way. I thought that I could trust him, he was my best friend. I was so wrong.

Telling someone you love them is never easy. But in my case it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I had loved him since the day I met him, it's just in the last five years that love had progressed from a friendship to desiring something more. I still remember the face of disgust he made when I told him, like he wanted to gag at the thought of us.

I remember how much cried that night and no matter how many times I told myself it was the alcohol, the stream of salty tears continued to flow down my face.

I figured the next day would have been better, maybe he was just reacting badly because we had been best friends since the age of five years old.

I was wrong.

That's when the bullying started. The complete and utter isolation from the person I thought Harry was made me feel utterly alone. Not only did he cut me out of his life to join a new group of friends, but he became my relentless tormenter.

Names got thrown around like they were going out of fashion. Whore, fat, ugly, you name it and I guarantee I have been called it at least once.

At first it was just Harry, his friends used to laugh, but then they all started to join in. Now I am Watefeild highs biggest joke.

I am by no means alone. My family prove good company and I have definitely found grand familiars in my books. The library is my solitude, the only place I am free from the constant harassment.

It hurts me more and more with every passing glare and off handed comment that Harry lashes at me. How can someone go from being your best friend one minute, to absolutely hating you the next?

He has not once to this date physically hurt me, but mentally is another story. I don't really know who I am anymore. I think that's the saddest part is that I lost myself along the way.
....
"Move you loser." One of Harry's friends say, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I don't dare look him in the eyes, I simply move to the side so he can pass. Even though he has the entire corridor to do so. I don't point that out in fear of further torment.

I watch quietly as he walks down the hall obnoxiously to meet Harry and the rest of his gang.

Just as I think I get out Scot free for once, he turns around, I think his name is Nate, and yells "next time don't get in my way freak." He gives me a pointed glare and his friends start laughing, including Harry.

I watch helplessly as every kid in the hallway turns around and looks at me. I can't help the blush that creeps up my neck and reaches my cheeks. I hopelessly go to my locker and bury my face inside, hoping somewhere I'll find my pride and maybe some courage to stand up to those losers.

Not even first period yet and I am already wishing that I could just vanish. No one here would miss me if I left.

I stay against all my better judgement. I promised myself that I would ensure that my grades were perfect so that I could leave this place and start fresh somewhere new. Somewhere better.

The horrifyingly shrill bell rings throughout the corridors, signaling that period one was about to commence.

I walk with my head down to my English class. Mr Shaw waits at the door with a slip of paper he slams in my face.