Year 8. I knew it was going to be a mission before the year had even started. But what I didn't know is that it was going to get a lot worse. Twitchy. Blinker. Hazards. Coxy. Spaz. Retard. No one knew my real name except for the teachers. So I resorted to lies and tales so people would like me. I forced them to hang out with me. There was a group of boys and a couple of girls that would play rugby at lunch and I would just start playing with them. They all hated it. But I'd always continue playing. It got to the point they let me play. It was only so they could physically hurt me without getting into trouble, though. I got picked up and thrown on my head once. And then pushed backwards. Then thrown over someone's shoulder. But the teachers didn't notice they just thought it was part of the game. I gave up. I just stopped going over there. Instead, I hid under the staircase in a corner and listen to music and do my homework. The bullying got worse but it was a bit easier to ignore. Until one song came along. The tidy up song. They found another weakness. The song made me curl up in a ball and have a full on fit. It terrorised me. Even to this day if someone started singing it would get to me. It got so bad I was found in a ball crying and rocking chanting help. And then I was diagnosed with Tourette's syndrome. Great, I thought. Another thing they can use against me. And they did. More names. More everything. So my mum and her friend came in and talked to the year level about it. But it didn't help. Made it worse. Saying I was lying and it was fake.
