¿Why Me?

chapter 1

"Finally done" I said as I closed my little pink notebook. Inside it was notes I took from my online Korean classes. I sighed, shut my laptop and plopped on my bed. "One day I'll go to South Korea" I said in Korean "Yeah, one day". After daydreaming about traveling to Korea for a while I fell asleep. I guess you can say I'm obsessed with South Korea. I've always wanted to leave New York and go live in Korea and start a new life away from all this pain and suffering. Away from the bullies. Away from the loneliness. Away from the depression. Away from the scars. Just. Away. I've always been bullied for being so interested in the Korean culture. I've been called many names like 'little Asian' and 'Mady Lee' here's a good one an 'Asian Pasian'. I don't pay any mind to them because the people who call me the names have a sixty overall average. I've been studying Korean for three years now and I can speak it very well, but I can't write in Korean very well. It all just looks like random lines so it's confusing. I have dictionaries, lessons, books and notebooks and notebooks filled with Korean. My mom says 'there's no use in trying to speak Korean' because she says there's 'like no Korean people in America'. But no matter how many times I try to tell her about going to Korea she keeps asking the same question. I have no friends except for this guy named Drew. And yes he is a straight up FUCK BOY! You can tell by just hearing his name. He tries to get with me everyday at least twice. I keep telling him no but he doesn't take it as an answer. I'm afraid to date a guy because I have trust issues and I'm afraid that I'll get too attached and my heart will get broken.
Anyways. A half hour later I woke up and went to school. Walking down the street carrying my books with my headphones in listening to K-pop to drown out all the people around me. I can see that they're making fun of me but I just smile and continue walking. My mom always told me to ignore people and the names would stop. I've been ignoring it for three years. I still get chopsticks poured on my desk, notes in Korean on my locker, rice dumped on me, Korean dictionaries thrown at me, and surprisingly it gets worse. I walked into school and dodged the daily kids who push me into lockers. Halfway down the hallway I ducked from the daily Rice Throwers. I picked up my feet from the daily Foot Grabbers and walked into class. I pulled out a small metal spatula and scraped off all the gum that someone 'secretly' put on my desk seat and desk top. I pulled out a towel and wiped away all the water from the seat and oil around my desk then sat down. I put on my hat so that my hair won't get cut by the person behind me. I took my bag filled with Korean books and held it close to me so it won't get stolen and my books won't get ruined. Even though I seem prepared I still get physically hurt really bad throughout the day so just in case I cry I put on waterproof makeup everyday. Bruises, cuts, welts, scars, the list goes on. Everyday I get hurt and I try to hide the marks but it's just no use. The worst is on my wrists which I cover up with makeup and wrist bands that have K-pop lyrics on them.

I'm Mady and I don't know what to do anymore.

Class begins