The following is an excerpt from a letter written by someone who has been and continues to be a target of bullying at her high school in Maine. Her testimonial begs the question of why this behavior can't be stopped.
"You wake up, sick to your stomach at the thought of coming to this place. You dread walking through the doors because you know it’ll be the same story, different day. Imagine faking illness’ and begging your parents to just let you stay home. You walk through the doors and your stomach drops, who knows who will be the first to say something. The last thing you want to do is go to your locker because all the people who terrorize you are standing around it. You pretend you didn’t do your homework and get the zero on it even though you worked so hard on it just so you don’t have to face these people. What about when you leave your headphones at home and have the actually listen to these girls yelling “Slut, bitch, whore, jesus freak, bible thumper” to you, and thats just those three minutes between each class.
How about when you know an answer in class and are so happy you finally get it but don’t want to raise your hand because of the murmurs of the girls who hate you and tear you down. You go to lunch and are forced for sit somewhere amongst these people, they stare, they laugh, they whisper. What happens when the whispers turn to chants? You hear these girls talk about your weight and the way you look so you leave lunch early to change yourself. You risk unhealthy behavior and harm yourself to form the expectations of these people. When these people make plans to beat you up and you even have to re-evaluate your route in school to avoid it. The most dangerous place you feel is at school. You know the bathroom stalls like the back of your hand because you leave each and every class to cry and let the feelings they caused, out. This place is just for education right? Its 2:05, the bell rings, finally time to go home and get away from all of this. You get home and your phone goes off. It hasn’t stopped.
To be honest, its just begun. You get tweets, chats, text messages and it all hurts. You ignore them, you defend yourself or delete them but they don’t go away. Not only has everyone already laughed at them but they’ve already cut you deep enough for you to remember it and for it to terrorize you. That night you get ready for bed even though the truth is you won’t be sleeping. Walking by the mirror is the worst part, you see yourself, the real you, the valued you. You take a second look and it’s the person they see. The ugly, worthless person. You lay in bed and just cry. You finally see what they see. No one sticks up for you. Your alone with your thoughts and the words they’ve imprinted on you. Now its become a control issue, you want to control the pain you feel, you look at your bare arms and pure body, you tell yourself you’re weak and cut. You feel better for what? 2 minutes?" from Victoria Pabst's Open Letter
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