It was the 31st of August 2007. I set my alarm to go off at seven o'clock to get myself ready for what was going to be the most important day of my life. I spent a good hour in front of the mirror but the more I looked at myself the more flaws I noticed. My frizzy hair stuck out in all directions and red blotches emerged out of my pasty white skin. Ceramic hair straighteners had not yet been invented and at the age of thirteen I considered myself too young for make up. On the brightside I had no real need to worry about my freckles as my nose managed to cast a shadow over the majority of my long face. No matter how long I spent in front of the mirror there was no disguising my horse-like looks. I hoped that the others would take my sense of humour and intelligence into account when judging me, who was I kidding?
Looking back now I can understand Emily. There was no doubt about it, I was an easy target. If I'm going to put the blame on anyone I'll put it on my parents. First of all, they should have known that my mothers predominant nose and my fathers wide jaw would combine to make a very unattractive baby. They should have considered this before having children. Secondly, they should have prepared me for the bullies, the torment, and the suffering I would be endured to during my teenage years. And thirdly, surely my parents could predict that my appearance alone would cause me enough problems, so why oh why did they make me join the homework club? Along with all of the other oppressed pre pubescent geeks I stayed in school two hours longer than the others, to learn nothing more than how important it was to date my page and rule my margin, every day for a year. Luckily it was cancelled after my first year due to the high number suicide attempts by members of the group. Yes, it was that bad.
But, not as bad as Emily. Being ugly has caused me a lot of heartache throughout my life. It took years to come to terms with the fact that I was too short to be a model, too ugly to be an actress and just not cool enough to be a singer. It was tough being measured for a bra at the age of eight and I stayed in bed for days when I was rejected by my first love. But nothing could ever compare to the torment that Emily subjected me too.
My first experience with Emily was on my first day of secondary school and marked the beginning of our beastly adventure. I knew trouble was coming towards me when I heard the jingle jangle of her abundant jewellery behind my back. She was constantly decorated in chains and jewels but despite the school rules no teacher ever dared challenge her. It was just too big a risk to take. As she neared me I heard her footsteps get heavier and my small group of friends slowly distanced themselves from me. They didn't dare to get involved and I can't say I blame them. I felt a sharp prod on my shoulder and as I turned around felt a sharp poke in my eye. Overwhelmed with pain and shock at this horrific attack I squinted through my healthy eye to try and figure out what exactly was happening. From the moment I laid that eye on her I feared her. I didn't know who she was or why she condemned me to this wicked random attack.
She was the typical, rebellious teenager. Effortlessy beautiful but exceedingly evil. Her long black hair flowed down to the very low of her back, rippling as she cackled at me, and her icy blue eyes cut through to my very soul. 'Look, she's crying!', she shrieked to her gang of giggling girls. I hadn't the guts to explain that I wasn't crying, the nerve endings in my eye simply picked up on the irritation which caused my brain to send a message to my tear duct which stimulated the production of water to cleanse my eye of any pathogenic substances. Thankfully I didn't give this response, I later found out that my interest in science only gave Emily more reason to bully me. Like a typical chubby fool I ran, I ran and I ran until I couldn't run anymore, which wasn't very far.
As the years went by Emily's attacks became more vicious. In P.E. she would pull down my trousers, in Art class she would cut my hair and on school tours she would hide my clothes. I was beginning to get used to her regular raids and usually knew what to expect and when to expect them. But just as I getting comfortable and accustomed to Emily it all changed. Maybe she just got bored with me, maybe she stopped caring or maybe she just matured. Personally I think she got too busy bullying herself to bully me.
I always dreaded the first day back to school. I usually didn't see Emily over the summer and was always the victim of a savagely unfriendly welcome. But the first of September 2014 was a pleasant surprise.
At first, Emily walked past me without breathing a word.I reckoned she just didn't recognise me, I had slimmed down and bloomed a lot over the summer. But as the days went by I started to worry about Emily. Her cackle didn't have the same feist that it used to and I could tell that her poor attempts to belittle me were only to impress her friends.
After a few weeks I discovered the source of Emily's sudden shyness. She had found herself a boyfriend. She'd had plenty of boyfriends in the past, more than I can count on two hands, but this one was older, much older! He drove a fast car for leisure and dealed soft drugs for a living. Emily was completely besotted with Aidan and spent every day helping him sell drugs and looking after his three children. During the year I closely observed and inspected her questionable behaviour. She cut her long dark hair and her slender wrists. She began ditching her friends and mitching school. We'd go weeks without seeing her but when we did she'd ignore us, clearly as she hurried along with the children, high on a mixture of cider and soft drugs.
Emily left school early. Nobody ever knew where she went or what she did. As the years passed I forgot about the misery she inflicted on me and began to wonder about the misery that may have been inflicted on her over the years. When I think of Emily I thank God that I was an ugly teenager. By the time I became popular I was way too wise for poking people in the eye, a point in Emily's life which, I think, ultimately lead to her destruction. By leigha Dunbar
