My name is Breana, or on Wattpad known as Brekichu. I was born into the Army life and have moved around since I was less than two years old. Up until the seventh grade, when I lived in Italy I was always a pretty happy kid, had great friends, spent time with my little sister and didn't care much for what people thought of me. One day this guy and his younger sister moved in not that far from where I lived and they rode the same bus as me. My sister and I became friends with the sister and for the most part I was friends with her brother. Me and him were in the same grade and had some classes together.

After time went on he would call me names and make fun of my height. He gave me this really weird nickname 'Raisin Brand' which made no sense, but I couldn't stand the name. I would ask him to stop all the time and some times he would, but other times he would just do it annoy me.

Eventually it got somewhat worse and I was getting called rude names and bitch was used a couple times. We would get along at times, but there would be times where he would tease me about my height or call me names. There were times it was so bad that I would be crying on my way home. I would hide the tears until I got to my room and I would get moody with my family which got me in trouble. One day it was so bad that I hurried home crying from the bus stop and told my mom what had happened, she had known that he had been messing with me for a while but I would always tell her that I could handle it and that it was nothing.

She had me go with her to his house so that she could talk to his mom, which ended it. It turned out that the only reason he did that was because he liked me, but what he did made it so that I couldn't stand to hear people joke around with me about my height. I became self conscious about my height and I began to fear what people would think of me as well as I was always faking a smile because I for the most part stopped caring about really anything even though I pretended as though I did.

About two years later I moved to Germany for my freshman year and at that point I didn't care much for anything. I tried to make friends and for the most part I did, until once again there was a guy that moved there towards the middle of the year. He was once again in my grade and in a couple of my classes and he rode my bus. I thought he was okay at first, although like others found that he could be kind of annoying. He after time passed got to know me and at some point grew to like me as well.

I would tell him that I didn't like him that way, but he would never leave me alone. He would make rude jokes on the bus about how women should be in the kitchen and stuff like that and even just rude comments towards me or others on the bus, including at times my little sister. I would tell him that he should learn not to be so rude and would even ask him nicely to stop making rude comments and joking like he was, but that just lead to him calling me names and him making rude comments directed towards me.

He would call me a bitch a number of times throughout the end of freshmen year up to most of sophomore year. I never told my parents, my sister and others on the bus knew because they were there on the bus with me and would also tell him to stop and leave me alone. He was one of those guys that thinks he's funny and says that their always joking, but is never funny and can be really hurtful more than anything. I would constantly lash out at those around me, which made me feel horrible. I was always faking a smile and trying to pretend everything was okay. As soon as I would get home I could be hurrying to my house, going straight to my room and crying until I couldn't anymore or someone came to ask me what was wrong. I would lie and say nothing I was just stressing over something, but usually everyone was doing something and thought I was upstairs doing homework.

I would try to do things to distract me and Wattpad, which I had been on for a while already, was one of the only things that would along with my music. I didn't even care much for living honestly because I only ever was in tears or pretending to be happy. Although I realized that I never could because I couldn't hurt my sister like that. After sophomore year began I became best friends with a girl in my Precalc class and we would always be hanging out and she was one of the few people I would actually be able to smile around and it wasn't fake. I even after time went on started dating a guy that was really sweet and who would make me feel like everything would be okay. I always felt useless and like everyone would be better off if they didn't have to deal with me being around. I would even at times have these break downs that I had no control over and that left me with tear stains on my clothing. But even though I still had the guy putting me down I had my best friends who would always cheer me up and try to help get him to leave me alone and a guy who made me feel like actually smiling. I found out I was moving and my best friend spend as much time with me as she could trying to help make me feel happy and that I should live life, the relationship with the sweet amazing guy ended up ending, the guy who would call me names and make me feel horrible about myself by calling me heartless, a bitch, and telling me that I had a heart as cold as ice began to actually be nice to me for the most part.

I moved back to the states, to Nevada, and left everything behind me. Or at least I tired. I didn't get bullied anymore, but I would have constant break downs almost weekly. Until we moved into our house and I started school, which were more like almost every other day, which also lead to me burning my arms with erasers, which I would always hide by wearing long sleeves. I have had thoughts about ending my life more and more because I hated the person that I had become. I hated how I push people away when I really care about them because I'm afraid that they will just turn around and leave me anyway. I hated how I couldn't show my true emotions anymore. I hated the fact that people cared and I would be so mean to them so that they would leave me alone. But would always think about my sister and my best friend, who both would be devastated if I did anything like that.

So I have tried to live my life as much as I can, but I still could care less about doing things. I have however, slowly forced my self to try and do the things I use to love (reading, writing, singing).

To this day I still feel like I'm useless, that people would be better without me around, that I just mess everything up, that I am worthless, that I'm not meant to be happy.

I still hate the person I am.

I still at times have thoughts of ending my life and have almost once.

I still pretend as though everything is alright and try to smile for the sake that people won't ask me what's wrong or try to come to some conclusion and judge me.

I still have break downs that lead to me almost doing something stupid like burning myself again.

I can say that I haven't, except twice, burned myself since moving back to Oregon.

ADVICE: After experiencing being bullied and knowing how cruel people can be, you shouldn't ever be afraid to speak up and try to get help.

I may never get past the self hate I have towards the person I have become. However, I also have learned that trying to live with it might be hard at times, but if you deny that it's a part of who you are it just makes it seem as though you are always going one step forwards and five steps back.

That even if you don't love you or think others care about you, there will always be at least one person that will always care about you. So you can't ever give up trying to live your life because even if you can't see it there will always be someone that is in your corner that wants to see that you managed to do what everyone else thought was impossible for you to do.