There will always be a time when we are the bully, even if we aren't doing it to be mean on purpose. I was twelve, maybe, and my life situation was pretty bad. I hate to be a poor pitiful me person, but my parents were just 15 and 16 when they got accidentally got drunk and had me.

My dad took me when my mother was going to ship me off to an orphanage or foster home or something, simply telling three year old me that I was an accident and the now 18 year old her didn't want me. While this may sound like a good thing, it wasn't. My father beat me, and served time behind bars for it by the time I was eight. They shipped me off to live with another family that later adopted me.

Now we get to school. Fun.

I started school in third grade, and was instantly picked on. I had ugly scars, two different eye colors, and was just a naturally weird kid, a goofball and proud of it. I was bullied until seventh grade when a group of guys (And one or two of guy's girlfriends.) cornered me after school and beat me and raped me. (Yeah, the big R A P E word.) That was when I decided enough was enough. I told my adoptive family and they took care of the rest. I assume the guys paid the price (Turns out they had raped a pair of sixth grade girls, twins. (Sick, those basterds.)) and my sister and brother helped pay for self defense lessons.

Now I am just a nerdy, goofy high schooler, that is rarely bullied and ks as outgoing and friendly as ever.

Never let people pish you around, kiddoes. You are better then that. Alwaus remember what I tell you: You are always loved by my God, even if you do not know him yourself. He loves you. ❤