This isn't a happily-ever-after type of story, there's no obvious moral, it's not for entertainment and it's certainly not 'tragically beautiful'. This is a part of my life and my life just... Is. This is what it is.

It's kinda hard to start this, its like picking a page in the middle of a book and calling it the beginning. The bullying began a month into my first term at my new school. A boy started picking on me, for no reason that I could see. Everyone laughed. I don't think being told you're worthless is funny but to each your own. At first it didn't get to me too much, it wasn't a big deal. I had friends and I didn't care what he said.

A term passed. One of my friends started hanging out with the Barbie group version 3 (yes there's other versions). The bullying was starting to get to me quite a bit, I was always nice to people and generally they were nice to me, I didn't understand his motivations. On a few occasions I embarrassed myself and cried but I hid it pretty well.

Two terms in things were horrible. I thought about the bullying every day but I didn't know what to do. I knew from reliable sources that (what I refer to as) the office of unjustness was not helpful. We were supposed to go to the office when things like bullying occurred. The chances of me doing that were roughly the same as the chances of me wearing a dress.

The year carried on and I grew extremely close to my best friend/crush. (Quick side note because if any of you are reading this you're probably curious. I'm a female, so is my best friend, I'm pansexual but she's straight.) I would of done more then die for her, I would've lived a life being bullied and filled with unhappiness for her. Which, if you're smart, you'll know is much much worse.

My friend kept me going, she was like a rope tying me to all I cared about. But that didn't change how I was beginning to feel, worthless. It didn't change the thoughts that were beginning to form. At last the year came to an end and I enjoyed six weeks if freedom. Six weeks of blocking out thoughts of school because maybe if I pretended it didn't exist it'd stop existing.

Surprise, surprise it still existed and I had to go. For a whole things were okay, they were bearable. Like the calm before a storm. There was a 'unpleasant' day. My second lesson was okay until on my way out he (lets call him A) grabbed my bag and pulled me back. I turned around, grabbed his collar, twisted it, pulled him towards me, glared and shoved him back as hard as I could. His face wwas terrified and I was proud of myself. I dont regret that action. Then I signalled to my friend and we left as fast as we could.

Unfortunately, my next lesson was with A. It was science and we were doing an experiment with dangerous chemicals. He made lots of annoying comments when he passed me, collecting equipment, and was generally, well... Bully-like. I told him to fuck off and all was okay for a few precious minutes. Then, while carrying a test tune of chemicals, next to a Bunsen burner, with my hair tucked in the back of my shirt he tried to trip me. I caught myself on the counter but nearly a) caught on fire and b) spilt chemicals everywhere.

Still, I was okay. I banished thoughts of A from my mind. Then my form tutor had the brilliant idea to have me sit behind him in form. This lasted of all of a few minutes before I walked out. The reason for this was simple. His 'jokes' weren't just unfunny anymore they were horrible. He told me I should self-harm because I was worthless and started joking about how I should buy potato peelers because they hurt more. I wasn't going to put up with it so I left. I expected that to be the end of it. Why should there be more? Now, my readers, you may learn how the office of unjustness got its name.

I was told by a teacher that I and A would be giving statements about what happened and discussing it. I, truthfully, said what happened. I was asked to leave my French lesson to go to the office. I went. We talked for a few minutes and agreed we just wanted eachother to leave eachother alone. Then I got a detention for shoving him.

That's right folks, I got a detention. He, for all the pain he caused me, got away scot free. Not once was punishing him considered. For the first time in my life I honestly considered suicide. Life seemed, no, WAS so unfair. I was trying so so hard to make everyone proud of me, to be the person everyone wanted me to be. And here I was being punished for standing up for myself. Honestly, I wished I had punched A. As you can tell I did not commit suicide.

Things have gotten better because A changed. He became a new person, became B. Decided he wanted to be nice. Goes to show people can change. However, it was too late to solve everything. I had become depressed and I'm, currently, living with depression. Only my father and my closest friends know.

This isn't for attention, or sympathy. I don't want you to think I'm brave or overly sensitive or anything other then me. I just want you to know that if you stare at the stars, trying to stop crying so you can think clearly, you're not alone.