This is what my younger sister wrote before she committed suicide.
"I'm sorry ***, too only be your big sister for only seven years of your life. But I can't be a perfect big sister like ***. Live your life happily, please, get a girlfriend that loves you to the ends of the universe and back, have friends that are happy with what they are and what you are, have friends that you'll be able to major fights with and still forgive each other. ***, I'm sorry I wasn't your ideal little sister, I'm sorry for all the names I called you, all the hurtful things I said to you, and all the times I made fun of you. I'm sorry mommy, I know you wanted a perfect daughter, like ***. I know you still loved me, but I can never be as pretty as her or as smart as her. I'm sorry daddy, I know you wanted nothing more than for me to be happy. But with the pressure of being perfect and following in mommy and ***'s footsteps was too much. Also, tell the people at school that I'm sorry I was so weird and wasn't as pretty as the girls. I'm sure they won't care, but I want them to know. They always called me names, like stupid, worthless, ugly, fat, waste of space, trash, loser, loner, and many more. I didn't listen to them at first, because I believed I was beautiful and unique in my own way. But they killed that part of me. They put me below them, on the floor, where I belonged. I'm sorry to cause you this pain, but it's only momentarily, you'll forget me in a year, or week. Yeah, week. I really am sorry, but this world is full of hate, sin, and bad people. I love you mommy, daddy, ***, and ***. I'll be watching over you from above laughing with you, crying with you, and yelling with you.
I love you.
Love,
Alexia"
That day, my family, not encluding Alexia since she said she didn't want to go, had gone out to eat. When we came back, we went to give Alexia some food we'd gotten her, but when we opened her door, we saw something awful. A chair was on the floor, underneath a rope that my sister was hanging from. Her arms, legs, stomach, chest, and face were covered in cuts and a pool of blood was underneath her. The note was on her bed and her brown eyes were closed, never to be opened again... I love you, sis.
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BULLIED
Non-FictionBullying is a very serious issue that effects the lives of many. I hope that by many of us sharing our personal stories, it will not only help victims realize that they are not alone, but also help bullies realize how strongly their actions and word...
