Dear Diary {Andley}

Chapter 4

Dear Diary,
How could someone be so cruel to another person? Really I want to know. What did I do to deserve this torment? What could I have done? No words could explain how close I was to breaking down. The other schools were not as bad as this one. I don't know how I will be able to deal with another day of this.

Tears streamed down my hot cheeks as I clawed at the inside of my locker. Troy thought it was funny to lock the "loser" up. A game he liked to play with just me and only me.  Once second I'm grabbing my jacket and the next I'm shoved into my locker. The door was shut behind me with Troy  watching me in amusement as I pounded on the inside. It felt like no one could hear me scream, or if they did they didn't bother to help me. It felt like a couldn't breathe, the walls that surrounded me were slowly closing in on me. I was on the verge of passing out. My phone was dead and there was no other way to communicate with the outside world. I was stuck here until someone decided to notice my yells for help. That came sooner then I thought when the dial began to move back and forth. The door swung open to reveal an older gentleman with a janitor uniform on. He gave me a sympathetic look before helping me out of my locker.

"How long have you been in here?" He asked

"An hour or two...maybe longer. Thank you." I sighed wiping my cheeks. I looked pathetic and an emotional wreck in front of this guy. 

"No problem, go home and relax I think your going to need it." I nodded my head and grabbed my things quickly, heading out the front door.

Once my phone was charged I had multiple text messages from Ashley plus many missed calls. I even had a text message from an unknown number. I decided, being the curious boy I was, to read the unknown text. What was displayed on the screen made me want to cry, bang my head against the wall, rip my hair out. How were they even able to find such an inappropriate and humiliating picture of me? It was the same picture I got teased and bullied for at my old school. How it resurfaced again, I would never know.

I sat on my bed with my knees pulled to my chest fighting my urges. I promised my mom I'd be a stable teen, I wanted to be stable. I didn't want to be scared of myself. I didn't want to be afraid of myself again. The last thing I wanted to do was turn down that road again. It was a long dark road filled with pain and anguish. I cried for what seemed like hours till I feel asleep. What if Ashley saw the picture? The last thing I wanted was for him to judge me. I was vulnerable at the time, a drunk stumbling mess. I just wanted friends...I wanted to fit in. I didn't know they were forcing me out of me clothes so they could take a picture. I thought they were all finally warming up to me. Those hopes were shot down when the unholy image of me was plastered everywhere.

When I woke up in the morning, I had a pounding headache and blood shot eyes. I didn't want to go to school, but there was no other choice. Mom was out of town for the day. I needed to suck it up like a big kid and face this shitty world. So I got dressed, ate breakfast, and walked a mile to school. There was no way I was going to face the kids on the bus. It was just to early in the morning for me.

I listened to whatever song that came on from my phone just trying to block everything out. Out of the corner of my eye I saw groups of students watching me laughing and pointing fingers.  I knew what they were taking about, the picture must have gotten out to everyone. They were all laughing at me, laughing at my body, making fun of how stupid I was. My locker even had a picture of my body taped to the front. I felt my throat close as my air supply depleted. My feet took me away from the scene of the crime. I couldn't handle what was happening, it was all to much for me. Tears rolled down my cheeks and plummeted to the floor as my feet pounded on the ground. I found myself in the nearest bathroom trying to calm down. My slender fingers gripped the sink as I stared into the mirror. A broken boy stared back, one with shattered eyes and a broken heart. I was a crying mess and somehow the world kept spinning.

Soon my phone began blowing up with hateful texts. How could they even get my number? It seemed like the bullying followed me everywhere I went. I wanted it to stop. I needed it to stop. I would do anything to be at peace.

"Stop crying." I said to myself as more tears rolled down my cheeks. "Just stop crying."

Sincerely,

Andy 9/30/15