Albany – Today’s story comes to us from someone who identified themselves only as “Clint”. We’re not sure where exactly this story takes place, but as we have already seen, bullying is hardly specific to any particular geography.
It started when I was in sixth grade. I was quiet, shy, and very reserved. I literally had no friends. But it seemed like I was a target for bullying, but I don’t know why. I was called gay, a faggot, and several more horrible things.
In my seventh grade year, the bullying continued, and got worse. My grades suffered tremendously. I was a straight-A student in sixth grade, and became a straight-C student in seventh grade. I couldn’t concentrate on school. I was too worried about what everyone around me was going to do or say to me today.
There was one day that I’d reached my limit. I couldn’t take any more pain. I used my friend’s phone to text my mom and said “I feel like I want to hurt myself. I can’t take this anymore. Please get me out.” She came to my school and took me to the counselor’s office. When I explained to her why I sent the message, that I’d been bullied since my sixth grade year, and that I felt that I couldn’t take any more of it.
The counselor told me “Clint, you’re gonna have to get used to it. It will be a lot worse in high school.” My mom was appalled. She even tried contacting the principle to have something done about the everyday bullying, and he said there’s nothing he could do.
In the last resort, we left that school. My eighth grade year at my new school was so much better! Now, I am a senior in high school, and I’m friends with everyone in my class. My story had a happy ending, but lots of bullying stories don’t, and I was close to becoming one of those stories, to becoming a statistic.
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