Bully.

p a r t . t w o .

                                                    When you see my friends.

I used to have the world's biggest crush on Cameron Harper. No lie, I hated every single girl who talked to him, regardless of if they were my friend or not.  Cameron had a crush on Hayley Curett in my ninth grade year. They even dated for a while too.  While they were dating I beat Hayley up in the back wing of our school. She broke up with him about a week later.

Point being, I was completely obsessed with him. He lived in my neighborhood and over the summer we hung out a lot. We never hooked up or anything, but we kissed every once in a while. Things never really got serious, but we defiantly weren't in the friend-zone. I told him everything and he was probably the only other person who even had an idea of what had happened that Friday night. If he wanted to tell everyone what had happened, he could have.I had hoped that once school started we would end up dating. I guess Cameron didn't think so because the first day of school he gave me the cold shoulder and completely ignored me through all of the classes we had together. That was sophomore year. Every since we've bickered back and forth, but nothing like things are today.

When I saw Cameron in the hall I ducked my head and tried to get out of his way. He's been one of the biggest offenders in making sure that I don't ever have any sort of self confidence when I get out of this hell-hole.

"Hey Hannah. How's your back feeling?" He asked, his voice coated with fake worry. A few people snickered the word whore as they passed.

"Just fine. How's your asshole?"  That seemed to shut him up. Cameron rolled his eyes as if he didn't care, but his face showed otherwise. There was a pained look to his face, like I had hit a sore spot. Serves him right. I did feel slightly bad though, insinuating that he was gay. His uncle died of some kind of STD that he had gotten through his gay partner.

After Cameron left I walked slower to my next class, not even sure if I was going to go.

Wanna know the worst part of not having friends any more? Seeing everyone who I used to be friends with in the hall and having them act as if I was invisible.

                                                              Dangling

I decided I didn't want to go to class. Hell, I just skipped the rest of the day. I left the school and drove home. No calls from the school, no "admins", as the teachers like to call them, to bust me for ditching. It was the perfect escape.

As soon as I got home I broke into my dad's beer stash. I didn't technically break in because it's just a shit load of beer stuffed in the back of our pantry, but same difference. I just wanted to drink my worries away and have the world go foggy for a while. I did wish I had some weed though.

I trudged up to my room, carrying a case of beer. The bottles clanked together and I could feel the cardboard start to rip a bit as I swung the case. Once I reached my room I grabbed a bottle, dropped the case on the floor and fell into the bed. I popped the top off, using my shirt sleeve to keep from cutting myself, and took a long swig. The alcohol burned as it slid down my throat, but it was a familiar feeling.

4 beers later and after taking some pills that I found in my cabinet I was gone. Like, out of the park gone. Wasted. Whatever you want to call it. I. was. gone. But still I couldn't escape my fears, the memory of that night burned forever into my mind. I had blurred, distorted memories of the past months of bullying. I started to cry, a blubbering baby curled up on the floor.

Weak. That's all I was. I was weak. I get called a few names, shoved around a bit, and shunned and there I was drinking my sorrows away when there were innocent girls and boys being raped. It was pathetic, I thought. Weak, pathetic, immature, self-centered. Like Chelsea said, I was ugly. I was ugly inside and out.

 That's when I first had the idea. Not that I wanted to die, but it was clear everyone else wanted me dead. My own parent's didn't even know that I had no friends.  I stopped my crying and sat up, wiping my face. I walked into the bathroom and searched through the pills trying to separate pain killers [which didn't help with a broken heart, by the way] from actual pills. The pills that could make everyone happy. I jumped when I heard the door slam, ramming my stomach into the counter as I hurried to hide what I was doing.

When I woke up that morning and realized what I had planned, I finally understood how close to the edge I dangled.