I'm dashing down the hall. I hear a teacher yelling at me to slow down but I ignore him. I finally get to the bathroom just as the 6th hour bell rings.”great now I'm going to be late again” I thought. Just then I remember their words and I practically collapse to the ground as I feel the tears fall and their words are echoing through my mind. “Annoying” says one kid “Cry baby.” says another all going to “Ugly.” “Freak.” and worse. I don't let them see me cry they'll call me weak. I start crying louder as I think of all the lunches I've eaten alone all the class projects I'm forced to do by myself because everyone refuses to be my partner. “she's a freak.” they'll say. “No one wants to be with her.” All this because I wear torn up jeans,large T-shirts,black hair, and paint splattered sneakers? Don't think I'm some tough girl who can take care of herself because I'm not I'm weak...weak...weak...wait a second I'm not weak,yeah I'm crying on the floor but tears are not a sign of weakness they mean that I have been brave for too long tears are a good thing but I don't need them I have a good family I have amazing friends (who don't go to my school) I'm lucky! It doesn't matter that they call me a “cry baby.” Because Tears are a Good Thing