I confessed anonymously.
You know I like you.
But you don't know it's me.
You told me to tell you my name.
That you don't bite.
I know you don't.
I know you don't...
But...
Other people bite.
They will claw at your face and clothes, and at every piece of you showing.
They will stab you behind your back and also at your front.
They will bind you, and trap you, and bury you alive.
Bury you alive...
Yes. Bury you alive.
I felt buried in my thoughts that were clouded by grey and depressing clouds.
I felt dead in a world where depression wasn't supposed to exist.
But oh, it does exist.
It exists in our schools,
In our classrooms,
And just the people we pass by on the street or the road.
It existed in me.
And I don't want to go back.
Maybe you know how it feels,
Maybe you don't.
But it feels utterly horrible.
It makes you feel different.
It makes you feel unwanted.
It made me feel angry.
So angry that I decided to bully.
For six months, I bullied others.
.
.
.
.
You told me you don't bite.
But the world bites.
And we are part of that world.
