Creative Expression Contest 2nd Place Prize Winner 2006
"What It Really Feels Like To Be Bullied!!!!!" - Story
By Rose Michel, Age 12
MS 88
Brooklyn, NY
Teacher: Ms. Kemp
Jan 06, 2006
The Smith sisters, they’re everything you’d want to be in high school. Popular, pretty, cheerleaders, and rich. It was the week that cheerleading tryouts would be held. Of course the Smith sisters were picked to be the judges.
I hated cheerleaders; they acted like they were the bosses of the school. But in my school when you’re a cheerleader no one dared to mess with you.
So my best friend and I went to try out. It was going to be held at the gym; the halls were crowded and so was the girl’s bathroom. I sat in the hallway; it was already five to four so my best friend went home.
“July Rowland” I heard Britney (one of the Smith sisters) call.
Oh my lord, I thought, I’m next. My heart started racing breathe, Jasmine, breathe, I thought.
“Jasmine Rivera” Britney called. I got up and started walking to her.
“Okay show us what you got.” I did the cheer I had practiced over the weeks.
“I think yes, Britney”
“Totally.”
“Yeah, but you have to show us why you should be a cheerleader tomorrow.
There’ll be like a note like in your like locker telling what you will be expected to do.”
Next day, as she said, there was a note on my locker. I took it and opened it. It said “Write DYKE on Chrissie’s locker.” Oh my gosh, I thought. Do I really want to be popular that bad to do something like that? Chrissy is the total opposite of the smith sisters; she’s all about rock, goth, and wore nothing but black stuff.
First bell rang. I opened my locker and inside was a paper bag with a spray can and another little note with a combination number written down “23 right, 15 left, 5 right.”
Before lunch, I raced to Chrissy’s locker, looked around for any possible witnesses, took a deep breath and sprayed the word “DYKE” across it. I then ran to the bathroom to wash my hands. Tears ran down my face. I’ve never felt so much guilt in my life. My heart raced, my body trembled as I cried my eyes out.
The bell rang for dismissal, and there was a crowd outside of my teacher’s classroom.
“What’ going on?” I asked a boy in the hall.
“I don’t know, I’m trying to see for myself, if you would just leave me alone!” he answered with frustration.
I pushed my way to the front of the crowd and there stood Chrissy and the Smith sisters.
“I know you did it!” she screamed.
“I like have no idea what you’re talking about.” Britney answered.
“So you don’t know who spray painted “DYKE” on my locker?” Chrissy interrogated.
“No. Somebody probably did it because you are a dyke”
“Oohh, she called you a dyke”
“SHUT UP!!!” screamed Britney.
“It ain’t right, calling people names and you know it, you.”
“Whatever all I know is-“
“What is going on here? Didn’t you hear the bell, go home.” Principal Walker cried out. Everyone cleared the halls.
When we reached outside, one of the Smith sisters came up to me and said “Good job! Didn’t think you had it in you, guess we misjudged you. Welcome to the Raven Cheerleading Squad.
I felt horrible. My heart was thumping. What if the principal found out it was me. My parents would kill me.
I just nodded my head and smiled. My stomach flipped, my throat felt like I swallowed a ball.
The next day, the same thing happened when the bell rang for dismissal. The Smith sisters started calling Chrissy names like fat, ugly, and lesbo. Britney turned to me, “Jasmine tell her how ugly she is.” I looked at Chrissy then back at Britney.
“No, why do you pick on people?” I questioned her. “Does it make you feel better about yourself?”
“What?” Britney looked at me stunned. “You are soo not a cheerleader anymore, you dyke! You’re a lesbo too, no wonder you’re sticking up for her.”
She started chanting “Dyke” again and again, except this time it was towards me. Everyone in the hall joined her as if they were hypnotized. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I wish she would just die for being so mean. Just as she turned to walk away, Britney Smith tripped and fell flat on her face. Everyone laughed and started calling her a clumsy clown. She cried as she ran all the way home.
You never know what it really feels like to be bullied unless you’ve been bullied yourself. It seems like bullies are computerized to know your soft spot and attack it by making you feel lonely and as if the whole world is against you. People say, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.” But that’s not really true because bruises can heal over time but words stick forever. Be a friend, not a bully. Before you think about calling someone a mean name, think about how you would feel if someone called you a mean name. You’ll realize it doesn’t feel too great.
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No Name-Calling Week 2008 is made possible, in large part, by a generous grant from Cisco Systems.