The time I became friends with my bully | Teen Ink

The time I became friends with my bully

October 22, 2013
By InTheAsylum SILVER, Henrico, Virginia
InTheAsylum SILVER, Henrico, Virginia
6 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
Writing with a white crayon on white paper is like loving someone who doesn't like you back....It marks but, always invisible


The time I became friends with my bully.




It’s a wild tale I think I’ve only said once or twice. I’ve been to counseling and recently stopped going. At school I don’t talk to friends because I don’t really have any. They are all so mean to me. They all call me fat and call me a loser. I really don’t pay them attention. Or at least try not to. At first they just didn’t matter. They were freaks themselves I thought to myself. But then it got worse I got depression and anxiety. I really didn’t want to go to school any more. I went back to counseling. It just went downhill from there. Most days I didn’t get out of bed unless I needed to get something to drink or use the bathroom. Then my mom started to force me to go to school. Most times I would just go to the clinic and curl into a tiny ball until it was time to leave. I decided it was time for me to stop being so depressed. I was going to stand up to my bully. I got my best outfit, my best attitude, and put on my best make-up. The next day I looked everywhere for my bully. There she was in the clinic curled up in a ball. Just like I was just a few days ago. I stormed In there so mad. I walked right up to the nurse and said “why is she here curled in a ball” kind of sounding meaner then I thought. “ she’s depressed” the nice lady I remember so well said. “ She has no right to be unless I missed something.” The lady named Mrs. James said “well you did a new girl came to school a week ago and apparently she wants everyone to know who’s the new ruler of the school.” I felt a spark of sadness for my bully Sandra but, at the same time I was still mad at her for making me feel how she does right now. I left the room and went straight to my therapist office and stormed right in passed the assistant Martha. She called after me but, I went straight into the room that I was so familiar with. There wasn’t another person in there ,thank god. Mrs. Parson was sitting in her seat as normal she seemed surprised to see me because my time with her wasn’t for another four hours. “ I said I need to talk to you” in a quick voice “ It’s about Sandra Andrews. “ Well I’m sorry you will have to wait another four hours at your appointment I’m sorry” she said. Even though I know she wasn’t. I stormed out of there without my usual talk with Martha and a dum-dum. I went to my car and sat there thinking of what to do. I decided to write in my journal that Mrs. Parson made me keep. I went to the next empty page and wrote “entry 32” at the top in my neatest hand writing. I’ve always loved to write. In between the line I wrote: Today I found my bully is actually getting being bullied. I want to feel good she is getting a taste of her own medicine but, I can’t get myself to. No one should get that kind of hurt. Even if they once gave that hurt to someone else. After that I closed my book and went back to school. I wanted to sit on my uncomfortable, tiny bed. As I got there people were leaving. I hoped Sandra was still here. As I walked in the clinic I saw she was gone. I ran and looked outside. I didn’t see her. I went back to the clinic and went to sleep on my bed/cot. It was the first time I had slept in weeks. It felt nice. I awoke to a nudge by Mrs. James she said we had to leave. The school was locking up. I got up feeling dizzy. Then I took a look at my watch It was seven-thirty. Time for her appointment. I ran to my car and went straight there as fast as I could. I went in past Martha saying sorry I’m late. I went in and saw someone on the couch but, I only saw only the head of the person. I went to my chair, put my bag down, took off my jacket, and took a closer look at this person. It was Sandra! I looked at Mrs. Parson with a distgusted look. She said “this is Sandra as you probably know she has come to do a group therapy session as I will start for a while.” At first I didn’t like it but, I started to like it. By my twentieth visit with Sandra and Mrs. Parson Sandra looked a lot better and I almost forgot all my hatred for Sandra. We started going back to school and Mrs. James told Mr. Thompson , the principal, about the new girl causing all the problems and she is now in a California boarding school. Me and Sandra started eating at the same table , started sitting next to each other in classes, and studied after school together. I even tutor her in history after our therapy sessions. I decided soon after to go to college with a phycology major. I said to myself I’m going to become a a high school counselor. I would make sure no one would have to go through what I did. Sandra and I both Became school counselors and worked side by side for twenty-three years before Sandra died in a fatal car crash. By then I was sixty-seven and retired. We were in the middle of a autobiography at the time.
I was buried with it twelve years later.



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