Bully to Bully

Feelings For My Bully

"Night Mum!" I shouted as I ran up stairs. I slammed my bedroom door and slid down the back of it. I held my head in my hands and let the silent tears roll down my face. He said he loved me and then just left me there all on my own like it was nothing. He said he loved me and then left me. He said he loved me. Loved me? He said he'd seen my stomach and told me I was blind! He said he'd seen my stomach. He'd seen my stomach. He's seen my fat. Everything from the night came crashing down onto me and haunted my thoughts and ripped my heart apart. He didn't mean anything he said. He left me when he said he loved me, not just liking me- not even friends. Love.

That usually takes the guy the whole film to gather the courage to tell the girl of his dreams and then everything is perfect and they're all happy and they're all-. And he just came out with it. That's proof that it was just... I don't know what it was but it definitely wasn't the truth. God I hate him! I slammed the floor and wanted to scream. I got up and staggered to the mirror. I looked at myself with disgust and hatred. I ripped my top off and glared at myself. I got my hand and dug my nails into my stomach, I scratched them across to the other side of my stomach. I looked at myself in the mirror again, it looked like a tiger had clawed me. Maybe the fat will fall of if I scratch it off!

I laughed and cried like a maniac as I ran my nails over and over and over my fat. Faster and deeper with each scratch. Tears fell out in fat drops and blurred my vision. I looked at the mirror through the waterfalls and laughed hysterically. Some marks bled but the rest were raw red. I threw my hands in the air and laughed loudly. I sniffled and bought my hand up again. With each letter I carved, "Louis" was gradually etched into my fat. I punched his name hard, hoping that he'd feel it, but it just made me have a coughing fit instead. I collapsed onto my bed and slept 'till morning.

I woke up to an annoying, constant beeping. I struggled to crack an eye open because it was sealed closed. I massaged my temple and then swung my legs off of the bed. I walked over to my desk and slammed the alarm off and then walked over tot the mirror. My eyes were coated in sleep and dried tears so I tried to rub it off. I had slept in my jeans and shoes. Comfy. Kicking my shoes off, I noticed one long scratch stretching diagonally across my stomach. There were some places where it had reached blood but from the many scratches last night, it was the only one left. I suddenly felt extremely guilty, ashamed and scared because I had technically self-harmed. I started to panic, what if someone found out? They would lock me up or put me in counselling! It's only been one time, they must know that! I started to cry again. Only one time. I sobbed. "I-I-I'll n-never do it ag-gain...ever." I whispered to myself in the mirror. I sniffled and tried to regain my composure. I pressed hard onto my eyes with the palms of my hands to rub the tears out. I kept on sniffling as I stripped down to my boxers and walked to the bathroom. I had a long shower and let the warm water run down my aching muscles and wash off all of the tears lost from my heart break. It was 7:15 when I finished my exercises and I decided to get changed.

I chose a baggy, black, long sleeved top. I didn't know where it was from but I didn't care. I was going to show Louis how much he hurt me so I picked some grey Adidas trackies to go with it. I put my white converse on and went to brush my teeth. I didn't look as good as I usually do but I looked fine for school. I finished my look off by running a hand through my hair and then pulling a grey beanie on top of it. My eyes drifted along the floor and met my upturned bag. The contents fell out when I lifted it up and I wanted to scream and run away. Everything was going wrong. I frustratedly threw everything back into my bag and packed in the books I needed for the day. I didn't have P.E today but I did have it tomorrow and on Friday, that was ONE THING to look forward to.

I opened my curtains and the sky was red. It was so beautiful. The clouds were wispy and feathery. They were scattered in strands like someone had pulled at a piece of cotton wool, painted it red and then threw it in the sky. Probably God. Hmmmm God. Is there even a God? Why would I be bullied for absolutely nothing if there was a God? How can there be a God when people are starving? Homeless? Suffering? But really what is the point of living? Is there a purpose? A goal? A reason? Why? I suddenly found myself in an existential crisis where I found myself questioning human life and seeing no reason why I had to bother with my life. Why should I work for money, why can't everything be free? Money wasn't found on the Earth and everybody survived fine without it. There's no law or scripture saying you must work so that you can pay the Queen or the president or the government. Get rid of money I say. Still do your job but you don't need to be paid because everything is free. Yeah! Why I am I not the King or the president? Nothing would be wrong if I was ruling. Just imagine-BEEP!!