| Warning: Sickening cruelty up ahead. Read at your own risk |

Things have calmed down.

I guess everyone figured

that I wasn't going to kill myself.

The bullying started again,

unfortunately.

And the first person to start it up?

Was your girlfriend.

Again.

I'm still surprised

that you haven't broken up with her yet,

but that's none of my business.

She trapped me in the bathroom

with a few of her girlfriends.

"hey elliot. i feel really bad..."

"about what i did a few weeks back"

"would it be okay if i can make it up to you,"

"and give you a makeover"

she smiled.

And me being the naive person I am,

I said

"sure"

As if her sweet talk was real.

As if her words were actually true!

As if the things she did to me

were only a fantasy

and...

I agreed.

Pulling out her heavy red lipstick,

she painted my lips

as if she were painting a canvas.

Thick dark eyeliner

filled the skin around my eyes

and as she straightened my hair

and applied concealer to my cheeks

and chin

and forehead...

I was blemish free

and I actually looked

beautiful.

"here put this on"

I grabbed the clothes and shoes from her,

feeling a calming wave of acceptance dawn on me,

and went to change in the stall.

It wasn't until I already changed

that I realized how wrong all of this was.

The shirt barely covered

my nonexistent breasts,

the jean skirt she gave me

never reached my thighs,

and the red heels I put on

made me look like one of those

hookers

on TV.

"what's taking you so long elliot"

Her voice taunted me.

No

no

no.

This was wrong.

I shook my head.

I couldn't do this.

I won't.

"i can't"

I said,

before it got silent.

"elliot come out"

she said.

I shook my head

"no"

And out of nowhere,

there was loud banging on the stall door.

"come out you slut"

she yelled

and I backed away on top of the toilet

in fear.

Tears stung my eyes.

It was ninth grade.

Slut.

Slut.

Slut.

The pounding continued

when suddenly,

the cheap lock broke

and she and her demons stood just outside the stall.

I've never felt so scared before,

and as her eyes run down my stomach,

I realized that she was looking at my cuts.

The ones I created months ago,

before her eyes trailed to my burn,

making this encounter seem more pleasant to her.

A malicious laugh escaped her throat as she said

"oh this is good. this is too fucking good"

She took out her phone,

I covered myself.

"oh don't be shy"

Her friends walked in the stall

and grabbed hold of my arms.

I couldn't get out.

"take off her underwear and put this on"

she threw the thong to the one on my left,

and though she looked hesitant,

she did it anyways.

She did it...

anyways.

I was too weak to get her to stop,

but that didn't stop me from trying.

"what should we label this"

she smirked

"a buck for a whore"

"or maybe... the suicidal slut"

Tears cascaded down my cheeks

like a tsunami crashing

against the beach's shores.

"please stop"

I sobbed,

throat burning fiercer and fiercer.

"please"

Mackenzie

just laughed.

"how about both. they do love variety on snapchat..."

"don't they, elliot"

Her two friends let go of my arms

and spread open my legs.

"please stop"

I choked

and flashes from her phone

shined

on every inch of my flaws

as the thong they forced on me

was put in full broadcast.

It was useless, though.

My pleas and my cries

were useless.

Just like me.

She wouldn't stop.

Her grin darkened her face, and...

she posted them.

She sent those pictures

to everyone.

I felt awful.

I needed to throw up.

Ninth grade was back,

it was laughing at me,

tormenting me.

I needed to throw up.

And they walked out of the bathroom,

smirks etched on their faces.

I finally threw up

as these words spiraled in my head:

I'm not fine

I'm not fine

I will never be fine.

| Happy belated birthday to @beccakachmar ^.^ I hope you had an amazing day! |