School was a fun time; for a short while. Then I became one of the many kids that was sucked into the bullying times. I was an outcast, thrown to the wolves with only a few faithful friends guarding my back. My identity was branded as ‘loser’, and I suffered through names, dirty looks, and lies. As each year ended, I had hoped for a new start with new kids each semester. I was wrong. Middle school was awful, but it would never compare to my Jr. High years; 7th and 8th grade. I spit on those years, and though I want them erased from my memory, a piece of me is grateful that they never left. I am reminded of who I really am: an outsider. Someone who looks in the world instead of in a mirror. I remember the names….I remember the remarks and the vandalism. Those people; their faces; and their voices will always be in my head. Can someone ever forgive a person for such actions? Can someone ever recover? I doubt there is any coming back, unless to be resurrected by the ones that shoved them into an early grave. I never succumbed. I acted out and modified myself to the image I was given. I was cast from the school and began anew, at another school, where I met friends that I will never forget, and I never want to. High school is much better. I am still trudging through like every teenager. Luckily I have left the eye of the bulk of the ghastly bullies, and made some long-time friends. I am now a simple girl walking through each day trying to find out who I am. I am never going back. Or so I hope.