Dear bully,
There are secrets that I hide from everyone around me. I have scars on my wrists, and the sight of food literally disgusts me. I barely eat, and when I do eat, the first place I go is to the bathroom to throw it up. I stay up late at night until about 4:00 every morning crying my eyes out. The only people that I have are my parents, and it feels like they are drifting away, more and more each day.
So, the point of this story is to say goodbye. You don't care about how many people you hurt, as long as you feel good about yourselves. I am sick of waking up every morning and wondering why I am even still alive. I have tried to leave this earth many times, but sadly I failed each time. This time I will make sure that I will succeed. It will make this world a better place for everyone. At least my little sister Jan will never have to see my battle scars or hear me crying at night. I hope she grows up happy and doesn't have to go through what I have had to go through.
I hope one day, all of the bullies will realize that everything they say is never forgotten. Words stick with us for the rest of our lives. I have tried going to therapy, as if medication and tainted words, could fix broken toys.
I hope you know that I do not want you to feel bad for torturing me and making my life a living nightmare. That's not why I am writing this. I am writing this to give hope to the next people you think of bullying. I hope you will remember me and choose not to judge someone or taunt them. You shouldn't be judging them, unless you are perfect, and nobody is perfect.
Even though you bullied me and I allowed you to continue, I will always love you. After all, I try and love everyone. No matter how cold hearted they are.
P.s. I miss us being best friends. All those laughs and smiles that we shared. I still have the picture of us on the third grade field trip with out feather hats. I just broke the frame, to use the glass for something that should remain unwritten. Never forget me. I will be watching over you, wherever my soul may go.
Love,
The Broken Angel