I was her first, surely not her last. I wish I was her last. No one should have to go through what I did. Her model-like figure unlike any other is roaming around the yellow stained hallways but I could never manage to escape her blinding white teeth when she lays her eyes on me. How does a 9 year old even know how to make someone feel so hopeless with such a plastered evil grin? She didn’t even have to put so much effort either. Her aura alone while walking past me made it impossible to want to go to school. Why did she have to target me? 

She walks into the classroom coming from the bathroom. Those five minutes without her in the room. Without her judging brown eyes often looking to the side at her friend while giggling and staring back at me. Those five minutes are what help me go on in the day. Well that and the fact that lunch is after this.

“Ashley, pick your head up!”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah Ashley what’s wrong with you.”

Magdalene always makes sure to add in her two cents if it’s about me. 

During lunch I peek under the stalls. A sigh of relief comes and leaves my mouth as I realize I'm alone. Sometimes I wouldn’t get so lucky. Sometimes I have to wait for the girls to finish gossiping so I can eat in peace. 

“Did you see her shoes?”

 “I saw those when I walked past Payless.”

They snicker. 

Their steps get louder and louder as I pretend I wasn’t by the door, as if I’m only just now walking up to it. Getting into a finally empty stall, I lay my lunch bag on the little side surface and put down the seat cover. A crinkly ziplock baggie holds my turkey and cheese sandwich, finally putting a smile on my face. I know I shouldn’t be smiling considering my situation but this is the only moment of comfort I can get until the bell rings at 3:30. The loner eating alone in a bathroom stall. Those are the kinds of jokes people make about the bullied kid. I didn’t know one in five students experienced bullying. I didn’t know it was real. I am the bullied kid. 

The abrupt ringing noise reminds me I still have to power through the rest of the day. What's three more hours of being surrounded by kids who don’t like me for the thousands of rumors Magdalene has had time to spread. As I walk back upstairs a waft of wet paint enters my nose making me scrunch and sniffle. Almost as bad as the smell of wet paint, I smell the cheap alcoholic perfume Magdalene has on letting me know she's nearby. Surprisingly when I enter the room I notice her walking away from me. Maybe she doesn’t have any more energy to bother me for today? Walking closer to my cubby I notice my baby pink gap sweater sleeve hanging out by the edge of it. Different color marker marks, all kinds of thoughtless lines scribbled on it. She found my favorite sweater, vulnerable and alone in my cubby. My very favorite baby pink sweater that I always make sure is clean. She did this. 

“Magdalene this was you wasn’t it.”

“Ashley you're crazy. Why would I ever do that to you.”

Laughter slips out of her mouth at the end of that sarcastic claim. I'm ready to go home. I’m ready to leave. Everyday is the same routine. I open my eyes, dreading going to school. Crying and pleading, begging not to go. I get there and it’s almost as if I'm a psychic. 

That was last week. Today in particular my sheets smell like five more minutes of sleeping in can't harm anyone. The light flickers. “Levantate” her voice rings in my head. I don’t argue back. Today I choose not to argue back. Today I’m on my way to school and I’ll build another layer of thick skin. My stomach feeling empty yet I ate enough to be full. The kind of gut feeling telling me not to get out of the car. I know I have to but this doesn’t seem to be going away.  

My feet nearing the entrance of Spanish, I realize Ms.Kim is standing at the door to greet us as we enter. The dim lights in the room make the chilly morning more cozy and calm down my stomach. Maybe I was nervous for nothing? I hope that’s the case considering Magdalene isn’t in this class right now. After all, it should be quiet if we're just continuing work on the laptop. 

“Remember to sign out and plug your laptop back in the cart.”

Luckily I already plugged it back in. Although unluckily, as I'm walking out the door Magdalene makes sure to shove her pointy little shoulder into me. It’s taking everything in me not to push her back right now. Thankfully I don’t have to see her until after lunch today. A questioning feeling pops into my head, did I forget to do something? Oh well it probably wasn’t important anyways. 

“Today we’re learning how to read coordinate points.”

As I’m about to open my booklet the phone rings. All our heads turn to the persistent ring as the teacher walks over the phone. 

“Yes she’s here.”

“Okay I’ll let her know.”

I wonder if someone’s going home. Maybe my mom forgot to mention I have some sort of appointment and came to rescue me. 

“Ashley, get your things and go upstairs to the dean's office.”

Suddenly everyone's head snap at me. A spotlight has shined on me, singling me out. Is this Almost sounding planned, the unison of everyone pursing their lips and a single sound leaving their mouth makes my face hot as a stove. Why am I getting called? I didn’t do anything. The horrifying walk towards the cubby knowing everyone's eyes are on me has me frozen. I need to get out of here. Sifting through other peoples coats I quickly gather my things, making my way out the suffocating room. The walk up the empty steps feels like an eternity. A train of ideas of why I could have possibly gotten called for runs in my head. Only a couple steps away was the small office in the middle of the secluded hallways. I don’t want to open that door. I take these last few seconds of quiet before I’m possibly bombarded with questions to simply take a deep breath in. Swallowing my tongue I open the door to the office.

“Hi Ashley, take a seat. Do you know why I called you in today?”

“No, I didn't do anything.”

“This letter to Magdalene didn’t come from you?” 

Looking at the computer screen turned to me, I read the doc. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. “I hate magdalene so much. I want to kill her. She’s a fugly b*tch and her parents don’t love her…”. I didn’t want to keep reading. The most agonizing part was seeing my google account profile picture on the top right corner. Right next to it was the time stamp “Last edit was 30 minutes ago” That wasn’t me. I wasn’t even in a class that used computers thirty minutes ago.

“I swear to god that wasn’t me!”

“It’s your google doc account.”

“I don’t know how but I swear that wasn’t me! It had to be Magdalene!! I didn’t even know fugly was a word!”

The writing sounded straight off the Mean Girls script. It was her, I know it was Magdalene. The only question I had was how. How could she have possibly gotten my account information? 

“Ashley just admit it.”

“I won't, I swear it wasn’t me. Check the cameras I swear you’ll see!”

Just like that, it clicked. I forgot to sign out of my laptop in spanish.

“I forgot to sign out of my account in Spanish, I swear. Please check the cameras, it wasn't me, it was Magdalene. She must’ve gotten my laptop after I left Spanish since she has it next. I swear it wasn't me.”

“Just admit it Ashley, she came to me crying and showed me the google doc.”

I couldn’t believe her. I knew she hated me but to this extent? For her to stoop so low and go to the extent of writing those things about herself just to get me in trouble. It’s unbelievable.

“I don’t know what else you want me to tell you. I'm telling you the truth, please believe me, check the cameras please.”

“Ashley I’m going to have to suspend you if you continue to lie”

I don’t want to get suspended. But admitting to something I didn’t do. That I KNOW I didn’t do. Something that I couldn’t even begin  imagining how to do. I don’t want to get suspended. A lump forming at the bottom of my closing throat. The welling water in my eyes warned me that if I decided to blink I wouldn’t be able to stop the hot tears.   

“If I get suspended I won’t be able to go to Harvard or be accepted into any college”

I know I would never get into Harvard but that’s the only school you ever hear your parents talking about. It’s stupid but it’s the only thought that popped into my head.

“If I admit to it even though I know I didn’t write that, I won’t get suspended?”

“Ashley you wrote this please stop denying it”

I sniffled quietly.

“Okay I wrote it.”

Is this what it had to come to? For the school to fail me so badly. So badly that I had to admit to doing something I didn’t at the expense of not getting suspended. It’s the only choice I had. This is the only choice he gave me. 

The following day at school Ms.Kim refused to acknowledge me. This is how I was going to get treated for something I didn’t do? At the end of Spanish I walked passed her to leave when she called for me.

“Ashley, did you really write that?”

“No I didn’t I swear but I had to lie or else I’d get suspended”

“Ashley please stop lying, did you write that about Magdalene?”

At this point I gave up. I’m done trying to convince others who won’t give me a chance to say my truth. I simply nodded. I didn’t have it in me to explain it again. 

Looking back at that time, I wish someone would just believe me. I would've given anything to have anyone on my side. That was nine years ago. The system failed me. Kids like me who are at a higher risk of getting bullied because of our darker skin color and hairy arms. It’s not our fault. Being hispanic alone put me in the 23% percent of being bullied Despite this, couldn’t anyone see? Didn’t anyone notice me? There’s only so much I could do. It was only the fourth grade.