This world is screwed up. Sickness, lust, crime, death. Everything that we hoped wouldn’t happen has happened. If only we knew when we were young how we’d turn out. Does a mother ever think her child will become an addict or kill themselves? Certainly not. Everyone is holding on hope that this all will one day subside. But pain and suffering is never ending. Our battles are on-going. People are trying to eliminate bullying. That’s not going to happen. People will still be brutal. I’d know how hopeless it feels sometimes. I’ve been bullied so badly for being different. People feel big when they make someone else feel small.

Now, this is not going to be one of those ‘Oh, my life sucks!’ stories. At some points, yes, it will be. But this is all real. On a daily basis, I am bullied. I know what it’s like. And it’s time you do too. I’ll take you through s day in my shoes. Come, as it all begins. Oh, and my name’s Melanie.

* * *


So I would walk you through my morning routine, but it is so boring you’d fall over fast asleep. So I’ll just explain when I actually came in contact with other humans. I walk downstairs to the kitchen where my younger sister Adeline is eating.

“Hey Adeline,” I say, grabbing OJ from the fridge.

“How’d you sleep,” she asks. She knows I don’t ever get more than four hours of sleep. Anxiety keeps me up.

“Fine. I’m energized.”

An awkward silence.

My older sister Teresa walks in. “Hey girls!” She ruffles Adeline’s hair.

“How’d you sleep?” How I slept is a common question in the morning.

“Well nothing extraordinary.”

“Do you have Phys. Ed. today,” Teresa asks.

“Yeah,” I say unenthusiastically.

“Oh come on! It’s not that bad!”

“Says the captain of the track team. I don’t get enough sleep and I’m so uncoordinated. So Phys. Ed. is a terrible thing.”

“Jeez,” Adeline mumbles. She hates witnessing Teresa and me going back and forth. I don’t blame her.

I glance at the clock. 7:00. I have to leave for school really soon. Fabulous.

Teresa shoves a protein bar into her backpack. “Car,” she says.
I swipe up my backpack and head out the door. I feel the late-May breeze on my face. Most girls are probably going to be wearing shorts and flip-flops today, seeing as it’s about eighty degrees today. I’m wearing skinnies and Vans. I sit in the passenger seat of Teresa’s pickup truck. I pull out my iPod and get lost in the music. Black Veil Brides is blaring in my ears when Teresa comes out of the house. She enters and starts up the truck. Teresa pulls out of the driveway and we are off to the hellhole we call school.
We pull up to the front doors of the school. I exit the truck and find my friend Ava and boyfriend Devin. I see that Ava wearing pastel shorts and flip-flops.
“Hey Melanie,” Ava says as I approach them.
“Hey Ava. How’s it going?”
“Pretty well. I got these new shorts over the weekend. Don’t they look awesome?” Ava asks, twirling, for whatever reason.
Ava and I are polar opposites. She is feminine as all get out and she has the perfect tan and the perfect hair. She is perfect all around. I’m pale, awkward, and far from perfect. You see what I mean?
“You look awesome,” I respond. I move a bit toward Devin and he slips his hand in mine.
He and I are very similar. He doesn’t have anxiety like I do, but he’s bullied too. People call both of us ‘emo’ and other things that I won’t even begin to mention and they whisper about us. We’re different and they can’t comprehend it. People, especially kids these days, are narrow-minded. They don’t like different.
I already feel the stares at Ava, Devin, and me. We are an odd bunch. But this is when I get nervous. People freak me out sometimes. I suggest going into the school. They agree and we walk up the front steps of the school. I keep my head down. This is usually when I’m bombarded with mean and rude comments by onlookers. I always brace myself but it never seems to be enough. I hear one person yell “emo.” Here we go.
People decide to yell in our direction.
“How is it slitting your wrists at night?”
“Do you like worshipping Satan?”
“Ugh, her. God, she’s ugly.”
“Emo weirdoes. Go whine about your sucky lives somewhere else.”
I keep my head down and stare at the ground. People are like this every day and it hurts. Being bullied by students is one thing but it isn’t all outside the classroom. My teachers don’t really like me either. They all think I’m a ‘bad influence’ and the music I listen to is telling me to ‘kill myself.’ People are so narrow-minded and judgmental nowadays. I can’t believe people’s shallowness these days.
We enter the school and I speed walk to my locker. I keep my head down. My mom says I’m going to be a hunchback one day. I don’t doubt that for one minute. I grab my books from my locker and go to my History class. This is my least favorite subject. The teacher hates me and I’m no good at history. When we have opinion questions, I raise my hand but he calls on everyone but me. I’ve learned to slouch and keep quiet.
But today is different.
I sit in my usual seat, back corner, and instead of slouching, I sit up.
The teacher, Mr. McHart, comes in and settles down the class.
“Alright, class. Today we will be discussing the downfall of Russia as a superpower. I’ll begin with the question of how did they fall?”
I raise my hand slightly. But I raise it higher. Today, my opinion is going to be heard.
“Melanie,” he calls. I hear people laugh and one person whisper-yells “What’s the emo gotta say?”
“Never mind, Mr. McHart,” I say sitting down. Not today, my opinion will not be heard.
The class goes on. I got to the next three periods problem-full like usual. Then comes lunch period. Ava and Devin have this lunch with me, thank God. I find them in the cafeteria and plop next to Ava.
“How were classes?” Ava asks, taking a bite of her pizza.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say very bluntly.
“Are you hungry,” Ava asks. She’s always hungry and eats like an obese person but stays thin.
“No. You can have my lunch,” I say, pushing her my lunchbox.
“Thanks!” She digs into my PB&J sandwich.
We don’t talk the rest of the lunch.
The bell rings and I go back to my locker to get my stuff for the last two periods of the day; gym and math; the two subjects I hate most.
I walk to the locker room. I change into my clothes and head up to the gym, which is divided. I hear the girls whispering when I walk up. My black hair is in a ponytail and I feel so exposed I could start hyperventilating at any moment in time.
Our teacher comes out and tosses us a volleyball and tells us to play volleyball until the class is over.
The girls are against the boys. I am in the back left so I don’t have to serve. The boys serve and it goes to the girls far away from me. I’m horrible at volleyball. I’m terrified of getting hit in the face. The girls and boys go back and forth, the ball never once coming toward me. It goes this way for the whole class. Gym ends and I change back into my band t-shirt and black skinny jeans.
I dash to math class. There, I get tortured by numbers and letters the whole period. The period soon ends and I head to my locker. I grab what I need and find Devin at his locker. We walk out together, hand in hand. This is high time for people to yell and make mean comments. They start immediately.
“Hey, Goth girl! Are you gonna sacrifice your boyfriend there to Satan?”
“Have fun slitting your wrists!”
“You little emo. I hope you burn in hell!”
These are routine. At least people aren’t throwing stuff at me today. That’s nice.
I find Teresa and she drives us home. When I get in the house, I run into my bedroom and close the door. I climb into my bed and curl up in a ball of emotion. The words from today are coming back to me. I cry. I cry so hard.
I just want it all to stop. The hurtful things people say… it affects me so much. People don’t realize the words they say really hurt. They take joy in my pain. They laugh while I suffer. They make me feel like I’m so worthless and I’m not important and that I’m always going to be stupid. I don’t stand up. I sit and take the nasty comments as they whip me and rip my up inside. I’m full of anger, sadness, hurting. I just cry.
People don’t realize that while it may be funny to them, it isn’t funny to me. It makes me feel like crap, honestly. They joke about me slitting my wrists a lot. I don’t cut myself. I listen to music to get me through each and every day. People are so closed minded and they are so cruel. How do they sleep at night, knowing that they are driving someone to the edge? The answer to that is beyond me. But it hurts. How does someone live knowing that they hurt someone? I just- I don’t get it.
I grab my iPod and ear buds out of my pocket and turn on my music. It distracts my thoughts and calms me down to the point where now all I feel is sadness. I listen to the lyrics as they pour into my ears. Saviour by Black Veil Brides is all I hear.

I never meant to be the one, who kept you from the dark
But now I know my wounds are sewn, because of who you are
I will take this burden on and become the holy one
But remember I am human, and I’m bound to sing this song
So hear my voice, remind you not to bleed
I am here
A Saviour will be there, when you are feeling alone, oh
A Saviour for all that you do, so you’ll live freely without their harm.
So here I write my lullaby to all the lonely ones
Remember as you learn to try to be the one you love
So I can take this pen and teach you how to live
But what is left unsaid, the greatest gift I give…

As the song goes on, the emotions start coming. This song means so much to me. If only they knew how much they helped me… The sadness is unbearable. I full-out sob because of the lyrics. They mean so much.
I eventually fall asleep with the song on repeat. Of course, the sleep will only last a little bit, but I’ll take what I can get. The time I sleep is the time I can be away from the problems.
Sleep is all I need right now. Just sleep.
And the cycle will repeat tomorrow.