autismtwin
January 19th, 2013, 05:41 PM
I made my way from Biology to fourth period English as fast as I could. I was afraid to walk alone in the hallways; I was afraid of what they would do to me. Later, there would be security guards walking me from class to class, but now, I was alone.
I sat down in my chair and shifted my head to look out the window. My English classroom had a view of construction. Lucky me. I pretended to be absolutely fascinated with it as other students filed in the room. The atmosphere went from silence to clamorous, students bubbling with conversation. Not me. I knew the brunt of the conversation was about me: Where I’d been, why I was skipping classes and leaving school grounds. Rumors that were made to make me look bad, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.
The warning bell rung, symbolizing the fact that there was one minute left before the late bell. More students shuffled into the room. I felt the stares burn into me as the class settled down. By this point in the school year, I couldn’t handle the bullying I had endured since school started. I had bottled it all inside for far too long.
“Alright, everyone take out your journals and homework and complete your warm-up. We’ll go over it after I take attendance,” My English teacher said.
I acted as if I was furiously enthralled with the warm-up as I scribbled down some bs for an answer. In reality, I could care less. I was too busy replaying words I remembered, things that my closest friends had witnessed that were breaking me apart.
“She should kill herself. No one wants her around, anyway.”
“I’m going to fuck her up.”
I felt hands gripping my shoulders. Startled, I turned around. It was just the Para-educator.
“Are you okay?,” she asked
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
It seemed as though my teacher could go on forever, talking about stuff that none of us cared about. I stayed deep in my thoughts until I noticed everyone jump up. The bell must have rung. Usually I couldn’t be happier to get out of English.. Lunch was after English, and I didn’t feel like hiding in front of my friends. I did, though. They could always count on a ‘happy’ Cassie.
Soon enough that passed, and I was in my worst class, sixth period math. The teacher was great; it was the students in the classroom that I couldn’t stand. They all fed off of each other when it came to humiliating me.
“She’s never here. No wonder why she never knows anything.” They failed to realize I had A’s while they were struggling to pass.
I couldn’t handle all the chit chat about me. I took my new flash pass, the replacement for the stolen ones. I mumbled something about seeing the nurse. I ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, hoping the makeup wouldn’t run as I started crying. So much for being strong. I couldn’t leave school grounds again because I was almost caught the last time. I took a shaky breath. Every time I tried to calm myself down, I’d burst into tears all over again.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into class with bloodshot eyes. Whenever I showed up somewhere, everyone roared with conversation.
“Where were you? What took so long?” Someone (I won’t name her) asked.
I opened my mouth, completely un-aware of what I was about to say.
“It’s none of your god damned business where I fucking was!” I was louder than I intended.
That shut her up. My teacher put a huge effort in enforcing the lesson as if nothing happened. I took my stuff, and left the classroom. I leaned against the cold lockers and slid to the floor. I kept my head down until I had to make my way to seventh and eighth, and then home.
The bullying didn’t stop after school, though. I left earlier than usual. I sent off texts, lying to my friends about why I couldn’t wait for them that day. I had to get out of there as fast as I could so they couldn’t follow me home. I kept my iPod on as loud as I could to drown out the world around me. I wouldn’t be safe until I was home alone, with the doors locked, with my own thoughts.
For the first time, I told my mom everything. I couldn’t handle it all. That very night, all my teachers were contacted, as well as the administration. I stayed home for two days after for fear of retaliation. I went back on the half day before Thanksgiving break. Back to hell, I should say. I managed to ignore the stares. It was fine until I got to math. I did what I was told to do; I stayed in my seat.
No matter how humiliated I got, I didn’t move. I could learn to deal with them talking about me in front of the whole class, egging other people on. Ping, thump. Every time I’d rest my feet on the tray under my chair, he’d kick them.
The bullies had gotten smart. They weren’t allowed to speak to me, so they got other people to do their dirty work. I tried to convince my mom to pick me up, and when she didn’t I knew I’d have to come up with another plan. I was going to try to leave school grounds again and safely walk to my house. I went to my eighth period teacher and gave her my group project that I was in charge of.
“Cassie? What’s going on? Take deep breaths, calm down sweetheart.”
I don’t remember what I managed to get out of my mouth, but I’m guessing it wasn’t pretty. How do I know that? Well, all the security guards and every free adult was searching for me.
I got home and laid down in bed with my music on full blast. I didn’t hear my mom come in the house.
“Cass?” She must have been screaming. She came and sat on my bed, searching my eyes for something.
“Why won’t I ever be good enough, mom? I’m trying so hard to get better, to overcome everything. They have no clue! Why do they do this? They get some kind of sick joy out of it.”
“I….I don’t know, Cass. The principal called about the incident today; they’re all getting moved out of your classes. The security will know where you are at all times- no more trying to leave the building, okay?”
I took a minute to soak this in before my mom continued talking.
“All the adults are open for you to come to them if something happens. I’ll keep my phone by me so you can text me if you need me.”
I didn’t want to go to bed that night. The sooner I fell asleep, the sooner my alarm would be beeping at 6 am. I wanted to sleep through all this and wake up a few years later. I was right. I got up and got ready like any other day, except this wasn’t an ordinary day.
I was now the person to look at. I had my own guards, walking me from class to class. They were quite oblivious, though. Even though the bullies weren’t in my classes, that didn’t stop them from terrorizing me. They followed me between classes, right under the security’s nose. They whispered taunting stuff to me; taunting stuff in which I can’t repeat. They made sure to intimidate me at lunch, walking within a fraction of an inch behind me and whispering more stuff.
My friends tried to act as though this wasn’t happening, but I knew they were talking about it just like everyone else. Everyone knew. I walked into teacher’s talking about it. The threats, the text messages, the gestures, the rumors, it was all too much to bear.
I tried to keep myself composed as I walked into the office. I asked to see an administrator, and as soon as I asked, one came out to greet me. She looked sweet and welcoming. It wasn’t until I got inside her office that I realized it was quite the opposite. I soon figured out she only cared about what the school looked like on paper, and not about the individual students.
“What’s the problem now?” She asked.
“They’re threatening to hurt me.”
“They aren’t in your classes; I don’t see how they could bother you.”
“Well, they are. They’re following me around the hallways.”
“You know what? Let it go! Get over it!”
“I-I have to go. I’m just going to see my counselor instead.”
That was it, I had enough. I walked in to a teacher and the receptionist talking about it. I sat in the chairs and was texting my mom about what happened.
“….did you hear?”
“Yeah, she’s from ______.”(Middle School)
I looked up and my gaze met the receptionist’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry….I didn’t realize it was you.”
“It’s fine. Can I just sit here?”
“Sure, you don’t have to go to class if you don’t feel comfortable.”
By the time I got home, my mom had searched up all different online schools. She already had one picked out for me. She went to the county and because of the fact that I was being bullied, homeschooling was approved right away. All I had to do was leave public school and enroll at _______.
Before I knew it, I was walking around with a bag full of all of my textbooks and saying my goodbyes. My teachers cried. They hugged me and wished me luck in my future. They said I had potential. Teachers I never even had were upset because they’d never get a chance to teach me. My mom stayed the following day at lunch as I ran around to get signatures. Even then, the bullies still followed me. I walked out of my school for the last time. This was it, the decision was made. I’d never set foot in this school again.
This just a small part of my story. I was bullied all through elementary school, and for two years during middle school (sixth and seventh grade)as well as the whole few months I attended high school. I never really talked about it too much. Everyone has their own revolving story. If you’re reading this, you’re not alone. You are worth it.
Bullying.Has.To.Stop.
-30% of teens are involved in bullying, whether they’re the victims or bullies.
-Victims are more likely to develop depression, or eating disorders.
-160,000 kids stay home every day because of bullying.
-21% of kids have received mean or threatening e-mail or other messages.
I sat down in my chair and shifted my head to look out the window. My English classroom had a view of construction. Lucky me. I pretended to be absolutely fascinated with it as other students filed in the room. The atmosphere went from silence to clamorous, students bubbling with conversation. Not me. I knew the brunt of the conversation was about me: Where I’d been, why I was skipping classes and leaving school grounds. Rumors that were made to make me look bad, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.
The warning bell rung, symbolizing the fact that there was one minute left before the late bell. More students shuffled into the room. I felt the stares burn into me as the class settled down. By this point in the school year, I couldn’t handle the bullying I had endured since school started. I had bottled it all inside for far too long.
“Alright, everyone take out your journals and homework and complete your warm-up. We’ll go over it after I take attendance,” My English teacher said.
I acted as if I was furiously enthralled with the warm-up as I scribbled down some bs for an answer. In reality, I could care less. I was too busy replaying words I remembered, things that my closest friends had witnessed that were breaking me apart.
“She should kill herself. No one wants her around, anyway.”
“I’m going to fuck her up.”
I felt hands gripping my shoulders. Startled, I turned around. It was just the Para-educator.
“Are you okay?,” she asked
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
It seemed as though my teacher could go on forever, talking about stuff that none of us cared about. I stayed deep in my thoughts until I noticed everyone jump up. The bell must have rung. Usually I couldn’t be happier to get out of English.. Lunch was after English, and I didn’t feel like hiding in front of my friends. I did, though. They could always count on a ‘happy’ Cassie.
Soon enough that passed, and I was in my worst class, sixth period math. The teacher was great; it was the students in the classroom that I couldn’t stand. They all fed off of each other when it came to humiliating me.
“She’s never here. No wonder why she never knows anything.” They failed to realize I had A’s while they were struggling to pass.
I couldn’t handle all the chit chat about me. I took my new flash pass, the replacement for the stolen ones. I mumbled something about seeing the nurse. I ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, hoping the makeup wouldn’t run as I started crying. So much for being strong. I couldn’t leave school grounds again because I was almost caught the last time. I took a shaky breath. Every time I tried to calm myself down, I’d burst into tears all over again.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into class with bloodshot eyes. Whenever I showed up somewhere, everyone roared with conversation.
“Where were you? What took so long?” Someone (I won’t name her) asked.
I opened my mouth, completely un-aware of what I was about to say.
“It’s none of your god damned business where I fucking was!” I was louder than I intended.
That shut her up. My teacher put a huge effort in enforcing the lesson as if nothing happened. I took my stuff, and left the classroom. I leaned against the cold lockers and slid to the floor. I kept my head down until I had to make my way to seventh and eighth, and then home.
The bullying didn’t stop after school, though. I left earlier than usual. I sent off texts, lying to my friends about why I couldn’t wait for them that day. I had to get out of there as fast as I could so they couldn’t follow me home. I kept my iPod on as loud as I could to drown out the world around me. I wouldn’t be safe until I was home alone, with the doors locked, with my own thoughts.
For the first time, I told my mom everything. I couldn’t handle it all. That very night, all my teachers were contacted, as well as the administration. I stayed home for two days after for fear of retaliation. I went back on the half day before Thanksgiving break. Back to hell, I should say. I managed to ignore the stares. It was fine until I got to math. I did what I was told to do; I stayed in my seat.
No matter how humiliated I got, I didn’t move. I could learn to deal with them talking about me in front of the whole class, egging other people on. Ping, thump. Every time I’d rest my feet on the tray under my chair, he’d kick them.
The bullies had gotten smart. They weren’t allowed to speak to me, so they got other people to do their dirty work. I tried to convince my mom to pick me up, and when she didn’t I knew I’d have to come up with another plan. I was going to try to leave school grounds again and safely walk to my house. I went to my eighth period teacher and gave her my group project that I was in charge of.
“Cassie? What’s going on? Take deep breaths, calm down sweetheart.”
I don’t remember what I managed to get out of my mouth, but I’m guessing it wasn’t pretty. How do I know that? Well, all the security guards and every free adult was searching for me.
I got home and laid down in bed with my music on full blast. I didn’t hear my mom come in the house.
“Cass?” She must have been screaming. She came and sat on my bed, searching my eyes for something.
“Why won’t I ever be good enough, mom? I’m trying so hard to get better, to overcome everything. They have no clue! Why do they do this? They get some kind of sick joy out of it.”
“I….I don’t know, Cass. The principal called about the incident today; they’re all getting moved out of your classes. The security will know where you are at all times- no more trying to leave the building, okay?”
I took a minute to soak this in before my mom continued talking.
“All the adults are open for you to come to them if something happens. I’ll keep my phone by me so you can text me if you need me.”
I didn’t want to go to bed that night. The sooner I fell asleep, the sooner my alarm would be beeping at 6 am. I wanted to sleep through all this and wake up a few years later. I was right. I got up and got ready like any other day, except this wasn’t an ordinary day.
I was now the person to look at. I had my own guards, walking me from class to class. They were quite oblivious, though. Even though the bullies weren’t in my classes, that didn’t stop them from terrorizing me. They followed me between classes, right under the security’s nose. They whispered taunting stuff to me; taunting stuff in which I can’t repeat. They made sure to intimidate me at lunch, walking within a fraction of an inch behind me and whispering more stuff.
My friends tried to act as though this wasn’t happening, but I knew they were talking about it just like everyone else. Everyone knew. I walked into teacher’s talking about it. The threats, the text messages, the gestures, the rumors, it was all too much to bear.
I tried to keep myself composed as I walked into the office. I asked to see an administrator, and as soon as I asked, one came out to greet me. She looked sweet and welcoming. It wasn’t until I got inside her office that I realized it was quite the opposite. I soon figured out she only cared about what the school looked like on paper, and not about the individual students.
“What’s the problem now?” She asked.
“They’re threatening to hurt me.”
“They aren’t in your classes; I don’t see how they could bother you.”
“Well, they are. They’re following me around the hallways.”
“You know what? Let it go! Get over it!”
“I-I have to go. I’m just going to see my counselor instead.”
That was it, I had enough. I walked in to a teacher and the receptionist talking about it. I sat in the chairs and was texting my mom about what happened.
“….did you hear?”
“Yeah, she’s from ______.”(Middle School)
I looked up and my gaze met the receptionist’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry….I didn’t realize it was you.”
“It’s fine. Can I just sit here?”
“Sure, you don’t have to go to class if you don’t feel comfortable.”
By the time I got home, my mom had searched up all different online schools. She already had one picked out for me. She went to the county and because of the fact that I was being bullied, homeschooling was approved right away. All I had to do was leave public school and enroll at _______.
Before I knew it, I was walking around with a bag full of all of my textbooks and saying my goodbyes. My teachers cried. They hugged me and wished me luck in my future. They said I had potential. Teachers I never even had were upset because they’d never get a chance to teach me. My mom stayed the following day at lunch as I ran around to get signatures. Even then, the bullies still followed me. I walked out of my school for the last time. This was it, the decision was made. I’d never set foot in this school again.
This just a small part of my story. I was bullied all through elementary school, and for two years during middle school (sixth and seventh grade)as well as the whole few months I attended high school. I never really talked about it too much. Everyone has their own revolving story. If you’re reading this, you’re not alone. You are worth it.
Bullying.Has.To.Stop.
-30% of teens are involved in bullying, whether they’re the victims or bullies.
-Victims are more likely to develop depression, or eating disorders.
-160,000 kids stay home every day because of bullying.
-21% of kids have received mean or threatening e-mail or other messages.