From Anonymous: Drew and I

Drew and I had started out as friends in 6th grade. When I didn’t get invited to a party and he did, he didn’t go because he didn’t think it was fair. So what happened? Seven years later, I still don’t know. But somewhere between the beginning of 6th grade and the end of the first tri, Drew and I weren’t friends anymore. In truth, he was flat out mean to me. There were no veiled looks and whispers that were easy to ignore from girls. These were cruel remarks that were impossible to ignore. A pack of boys had picked me as their target and no matter how invisible I tried to be, they found me and had something to say about what I did, what I wore, what I said, and anything else they could find to comment on and ruin my day.
I remember sitting in English class in 7th grade crying and holding my breath to keep in the sobs because Drew and three of his friends were sitting in front of me telling me that I was stupid and fat. Literally. It wasn’t backhanded or indirect. It was a slap in the face every time the words came out of their mouths. How did no one notice this? Why did no one stick up for me? That was about the time I thought maybe the reason there were so many boys picking on me and that no one stood up for me was because they were right. I was stupid, fat, ugly, and every other horrible name they called me.
Unbeknownst to even those closest to me, I loathed going to school nearly every day for three years. I faked tummy aches galore and colds that I just couldn’t shake, but I still had to go to school most of the time. Although there were some wonderful moments in middle school, they were overshadowed by hurt feelings and anxiety of when the next attack would come.
I thought I was the only one they hated. The only one who felt lower than dirt every single day. The only one that thought everyone’s life would be better if I could just disappear. Disappearing sounded like a fairy tale to me. But then I heard Drew and his friends talking about a friend of mine in PE in 8th grade well within earshot my friend and me. They were calling her all the same names they called me. It was like someone had turned on a light I never knew was off. What they said had nothing to do with me and everything to do with them.