Online war

Have you ever heard of a little something called bullying? Most people think of a great big kid threatening to beat you up and pushing you down making you bruise and bleed. Some forms of bullying can feel much worse. They may not even be looking at you, and it seems as if they are on the ground fighting you and hurting you. Bullying comes in all forms, but it all hurts.
Preparing for the junior high was exciting, it was a big step. I was just like any other 7th grader that was new to the school. Although, I was a bit different; I didn’t have the same interests as everyone else, I didn’t look the same as everyone else, I didn’t act like everyone else, and I wasn’t like anyone else. I had a few defects, including being deaf, and the way my arm wasn’t like everyone else’s. I had never paid much attention to being different.
The first day of P.E we played the name game. We went into a big group passing the ball around repeating each other’s names. A girl with blonde hair had volounteered to say everyone’s names. She seemed very outgoing, kind and friendly. She had lots of friends in that P.E class, they always wanted to talk to her. She smiled at me on the first day of P.E that gave me a signal that she was nice. The year flew by as I had grown to like her. I don’t know why, but I always seemed to look up to her. She never really cared for me; she just seemed like another outgoing 8th grader. I did look up to her though.
As the end of the school year was peeking around the corner, we were on the track in the cool spring weather. My three friends and I were laughing and talking. After a moment of silence two of my friends told me that she was mocking the way my arm was positioned. I didn’t see it, but I did trust my friend’s words. We’ve always been loyal to each other. I had been bullied before, but I never got to do anything about it. We had decided to tell the P.E teacher when the bell rang. Our P.E teacher listened as my two friends explained to her what they saw on the track. “Go fill out a bully report.” she suggested.
The next afternoon at lunch, I filled out a bully report. I turned it in, and hoped that she wouldn’t get mad at me. I just didn’t want it to get worse. The Monday I came back to school, I was nervous to go to P.E. I feared that she would say something. I wasn’t able to concentrate, at lunch I didn’t eat much; I just stared at my food trying to decide what to do. After I got dressed and went into squads, I walked behind her, hoping to avoid talking to her. I told my friend that I was scared of her; she assured me that I’d be fine. I kept looking at her expecting that any moment she would turn around and walk towards me. I worried that she would say something after or during class. Lucky she didn’t, she acted as if nothing happened. I didn’t know if, the assistant principal had talked to her, but I hoped she would do it soon. I started to see her as a bad person, someone I didn’t really want to get involved with. About two weeks passed no word about the bully report. I decided that she wouldn’t talk to me about it. I was relieved and I pretended it never happened, my friends never spoke of it, and I never spoke of it.
Just as if I felt it were safe, it wasn’t. I went onto my computer as I had always done after school. I had a message in my inbox. I clicked on it, and I saw her name. I paused for a moment, debating on reading the message or not. I opened the message and read this...
“You need to stop running to the assistant principal with all your stupid little problems. No one was making fun of YOU anyway. So get over yourself. Kay? Thanks :)”
I was scared honestly; I clicked out of my computer. I imagined her saying this to my face. I imagined her standing face to face with me, even though she was taller than me; I still imagined we were face to face. She was saying this in her snobby tone with and staring into my eyes with that evil glare in her eyes. I decided to leave it, the new message signal disappeared. I forgot all about the message.
Weeks went by, that turned into months. Spring was meeting up with winter as the weather began to warm up. I had been enjoying school; I had been doing well in school. Nothing else happened in P.E. She just ignored me like all of the 8th graders ignored the other 7th graders.
I had an encounter with her about a month after the message. She looked completely innocent. I was a bit frustrated with her. I was also very scared of her; I still feared that she would say something to me. She didn’t say anything. I let out a sigh of relief as I left knowing that she hadn’t said anything. After that night, I told my mom that she had written me a message a month ago. My mom said not to respond to it, and to ignore it. I went on my computer and looked at the threatening message again. I read it in my head as if she were saying it. Once again, I imagined her standing face to face with me, and her snobby tone of voice said what the message read. I wiped the image out of my head. I stared at the message. I don’t know how, but somehow I had worked up the courage to respond. I was in my determined and invincible mode. I thought of what I was going to say over and over. Finally, I had replied with this…
“Stop picking on people. I have a disability that doesn’t make my arm like everyone else’s. My friend saw what you did, and what you said. I’ve dealt with bullying already. Please don’t tease me anymore.”
I paused as my cursor reached the send button. I knew I was in danger after I hit the send button. It lifted so much off my shoulders, I felt as if I were the strongest person alive, and yet like the weakest person in the world. I went on with my night like usual. I did think about it constantly though. Over the next few hours, I had worried about what I said. I wished that I had never sent it and gotten myself into this. I was going to a doctor appointment the next day. I hopped on my computer after school that day, and I found a new message as my stomach knotted up, I bit my lip as I clicked on it. I read a reply that was something like this.
“I didn’t say anything about you, someone else did. So shut up”
I looked at the message; I didn’t know what to say. I thought about it many times before I finally said…
“Yes you did, my friend heard you!”
Almost instantly she replied with…
“I DIDN'T DO EITHER OF THOSE. Holy cow, you’re really annoying the heck out of me. That’s probably why we hate you so much. If you’d stop acting so darn ignorant then we wouldn’t have a reason to talk about you.”
When she mentioned that they hated me, it made me sink. A sharp pain had been injected in my chest. I had looked up to her friend along with her. I thought they were cool; it hurt badly when she said they hated me. When she said the word Ignorant I got fired up, I wanted to hurt something and let my anger out. At the same time, it made me feel so small and useless. I had never really been called ignorant directly. Right at this point, I started to see her as a demon. I saw her as a nasty, mean, horrible demon that just ruins everybody. After my few minutes of buzzing thoughts, I had mustered my strength up and replied again.
What did I do? It was you that made fun of me. I am not stupid. That was mean! I'd just appreciate if you wouldn't make fun of me. I had a lot of problems with drama last year and I didn't want to get tangled up in it again...like I am now”
I felt good when I replied to that. Two minutes passed and I got this back…
“Drama? You pathetic little kid. You haven't met drama yet if you think THIS is drama.”
I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. The word pathetic hit me like a bullet; it was cutting deep into me. I sat there, staring at the message, not knowing what to do. Over the next hour or so she launched more words at me, like pathetic, stupid, pussy, laugh at, fighting, scared, 7th grade, and ugly, they all pelted against me hurting me more and more each time. There was a great deal of sarcasm and cussing during the argument. The day after we started our conversation, I filled out another bully report. The next day I was off to go to the doctor appointment in Chicago. During a peaceful little car ride we were at war. When I’d spell something wrong, she’d call me uneducated. Every time, I said something stupid, she’d say that I was so much fun to laugh at. If I stood my ground, she just pushed me back down again. I don’t know how but I stood up for myself as best as I could. I never cussed at her, even though she was calling me every bad word in the book. I felt strong, but more than anything I felt defeated. I felt like I was being pelted with words, cut with names, and sliced with insults.
“You're pathetic. And I'm sick of hearing about your crap. Don't message back; it's not worth my time.”
I was furious at this point I was shaking all over and I was crying. My hands and feet were ice; I just wanted to run away from her. As I was shaking, I managed to gather every bit of strength and write…
“The time you spend harassing people? I filled out another form. I don’t care if you get in trouble. You’re cyber bullying me right now calling me pathetic and stupid. Just because you cuss doesn’t make me afraid of you. People cuss because they are small and afraid. They don’t have words to be brave. Face it. I could cuss, but I use words. Not wimpy words that make you seem big. They just make you smaller than before.”
When I sent that, I felt like I had won the war. I knew it wasn’t over yet.
“Well aren't you just a genius. And I don’t care if you filled out another stupid form. I didn't even get in trouble the first time. And I am NOT afraid of some pussy seventh grader who can't say this to my face. If you just act all scared of me and have your friends do the work for you, then you must be the one that’s afraid. I graduate before you even get out of school. I won't even be at that school after one more week. So your stupid little attempts to get me in trouble are the least of the assistant principal’s worries. Trust me kid. : ) and like I said, I don't really wanna hear from you. But if you wanna go ahead and keep sounding like hot stuff, go ahead. These messages just make you funnier to laugh at.”
“Fine, laugh at me all you want. I am not afraid of you. But your cuss words don’t make you any bigger. I don’t have all my friends do all the work for me; I filled the slip out on my own. I will say this to you tomorrow if you want me to. But I am not going to be at school tomorrow. I will say it to your face in 7th period on Friday. I am not afraid to say it to your face. You have to start the conversation though.”
I kind of lied in the last message, the truth was that I was terrified of her, and I would have chickened out on saying anything to her. I just wanted to let her know that she couldn’t beat me. The argument carried on to the evening. I was in the comfort of an apartment in Chicago, and yet it wasn’t cozy at all. After dinner, I went upstairs to reply to the message she had left me. Somehow, we had arranged a fight. I don’t know how it happened; I didn’t want it to happen. I knew if it did happen I’d be beaten to a pulp. As her words flung at me like weapons, I was shaking like crazy. My hands and feet were freezing cold. I couldn’t think straight at all. I could hear the people downstairs talking about how I handled the internet like I should. Guilt hit me because I knew I hadn’t told them and that I was going through that right now. It made me very guilty. She responded talking about how I was scared that I would never fight her. I shot back about how she was nothing, that I wasn’t afraid of her. This went on for hours. At one point, I found some of my real friends, and told them what was going on. I shared what was going on to a few of them. I just wanted to let it out, I hated her so much.
Even though I never saw her through this conversation, it seemed as if she was beating me up. Her words made a picture. The picture was me on the ground bleeding as she towers above me hurting me. I lay on the ground hurt and injured as she and her friends laugh at me. I could imagine her hurting me, her words made a fighting scene in my head. We were in the gym as she was pushing me on the ground as her blows came my way, as I scream and try to hurt her as best as I can. I bite her, having no effect; she stomps on me and scratches me. All I could hear is screeching from both of us, I could see dark red blotches from behind the tears in my eyes. I feel my skin being torn; I feel my warm blood seeping from my skin. I hear ripping and tearing, I smell blood and sweat. I can feel so much pain from the damage she has done. I strive to fight back but I am unable to do anything to hurt her, she laughs as I try to hurt her. Her words were so powerful; it hurt physically.
As many of my friends comforted me, the fight inside my head could not go away. Six of my friends went and told the assistant principal that I was being bullied. It made me feel much better knowing that I wasn’t going through this alone. The next day at the doctor, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The fighting kept playing in my head, I still hadn’t told anybody. When we got home, my mom had found out. I told her everything as she read the messages. She told me that I was going to show the assistant principal the next day. I already knew I was going to do that.
School was approaching the next day. I was not afraid, because during the entire argument, I knew that I was going to tell when I got back. History passed, and then Orchestra. I had asked my two friends from P.E to come with me to tell the assistant principal. The secretary had told them to go back to class. I was nervous I held my English binder, and the red folder that held the evidence. The assistant principal called me back into her small office. I started to shake a bit, I felt as if I could have thrown up in there. I had told her that there was a girl in P.E was bullying me. I slid the red folder over across the table. She opened the folder and read all five pages of our war. As she was reading it, she was shocked on what kind of language the bully said. While she read it, thoughts kept clogging my mind. I would try to not shake; I would stare out the window looking at the blank parking lot. Her jaw would drop at times, making me somewhat happy. As she read the messages, I was getting happier and happier. At one point, I wanted to jump up and cheer. When she was done reading the message, she reached my freezing hand across the table, and said had told me that they would take care of this.
“The school resource officer will take care of this. Okay?” She smiled. “You have lots of friends who care about you. I hope you realize that.” I nodded “You’re never going to forget this bully. I had a bully when I was your age; I still remember her name, what she looked like, how she treated me, and how bad I felt. I’m so glad that you came to me.” That made me smile. We decided that I was going to be taken out of P.E for the day, I felt better about that. I continued my day like always. During my P.E hour, I went to a study hall. The assistant principal came to me and said that I could go back to P.E. I didn’t know why, she just said she wasn’t there. I really wondered why she wasn’t there. I got dressed and ran out to the track. I met up with my friends on the track. I told them what happened that morning, and that she wasn’t in school.

I felt much happier knowing that I came home in one piece. I got home and my mom called the house phone When she said “She got suspended” I jumped in the air. I couldn’t believe it, after all the words had burned me, I had won the war. When I got off the phone, I was so happy. I felt safe, as if nobody could hurt me. I was so glad it was over. The sun shined through the windows, making the world was a bright happy place now. The world seemed to go from a grim prison, into a happy meadow. The rest of the night, I remained happy. I skipped everywhere I went, and I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. I had told my friends from P.E, we jumped up and down when I told them. We were ecstatic and couldn’t believe it.
When she came back to school from her suspension, I was worried. I felt safe when she didn’t talk to me. I finished up the school year, and she walked across the stage graduating. We never talked to each other ever, and I’m glad of it. The year came to a close as I now had a big 7th grade memory.
Looking back at this, I am thankful that this happened in a way. It has changed me in good ways, and I have some bad things because of it. I am very self conscious about my arm, I am ashamed of it. This event changed me a lot, it has made me a stronger person and more aware of what is going on. I learned never to treat others badly just because they are odd. I learned to never let bullying be ignored. I learned that bullying can be carried out in many forms, but it always makes you feel the same. It makes you feel so worthless and small. When I look back at this, I see so much. I know now that I should not stand by when someone is being bullied. I hope you will do the same.