My Story

Freshman year rolled around and I walked into the school the first day of hell for me. I remember meeting the teachers, making the friends I have to this day. And I remember Chase Reagan and Tyler Andrews.

            You see, I am a social person by nature. I just can't help it. Chase’s now ex-girlfriend was in a couple of my classes. We became friends. I thought we were better friends than she did. We did have the lunch class together. We sat together for the first half of the freshman year. I don’t know what happened between us. I think she found me annoying and pretty immature. Quickly, during the second half of freshman year, I met another girl named Caylee. We are still friends to this day.  That half of Freshman year, Kimi (Chases ex) wasn’t in the lunch class with us. So Caylee and I sat at a table alone. It happened to be a table away from Chase and his gang. Caylee and I talked about boys and life and lovers, and how annoying high school was. We did homework together too during lunch class. Chase had made fun of me previously calling me a dinosaur and walking across the lunch room mimicking my gait. Kimi had still been in my lunch class when he did that. She hit him and told him to apologize. He never did.

            Chase Reagan was the cockiest, rudest little smart ass at school. He would put his feet up on the table, tip back the chair and stick his earphones in his ears. It was clear as day, he thought he was better than everyone else. A couple of days passed and Caylee and I giggled. They were so loud and arrogant. They made jokes about woman. They even joked around about who was going to lose their virginity first. Saying things like “No! He won't be the first to get some because, well have you looked in the mirror?” Or “I am more popular, so I would get f***** first. I mean c’mon I am the sexiest at this table.” We rolled our eyes. They were so damn stupid.

            One day, Tyler came over to our table, hiding something behind his back. We saw this, but we ignored him and continued our conversation about the teachers we had. All the sudden Tyler popped something in my face. I was surprised, so I jumped pretty high. He laughed and ran back to the table. Throughout that lunch period four bags were popped in my face. And every time they laughed. We rolled our eyes and laughed it off. They began to call me names. I was a whore, a female dog, a transvestite, a slut, a disabled freak, Barney, an un-normal child, a freak of God, a dinosaur, and a prostitute.  And there were more too. It all got old pretty quickly considering the fact they wouldn’t stop.  Chase would say it, but so would his friends.

            It only got worse. On another fateful day, Chase came over and sat down and said “Hey, can you swim?” I thought about this. I knew if I said yes, he would insult me. And I knew that if I said no he would insult me. So I decided honesty was the best way: “Yes Chase I can swim.” “Well, do you want to come on my boat?” “No. Thanks though, Chase.” I flashed a cute smile. A sweet smile. Not a smirk. He leaned over the table and hissed in my ear “Good, because if you did I would cut off your arms, throw you in the ocean and watch you drown, bitch.” Chase straightened up and walked back to his table, laughing and making grunting noises. Caylee grabbed my wrist so tightly it left marks. “Did you see his face?” “…” “ARI!” She had started to shake me. “What?” “Did you see his face?” “Ye..yeah. I…did...di...did.” “You need to go tell someone. The administration would do perfectly. They will stop him. I know they will.” “No...No…no. I…I… can't.” I replied. “Girl, you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.  I saw the idea flash over his eyes. A mean cloud of cruelty.” My knees were wobbly and I knew I could not stand without looking like a fool. I didn’t want to give him just another reason to laugh hideously at me. I just couldn’t.  “I can't…I can't stand.” “You are scared shitless, aren’t you?” “What do you want me to say Caylee? I am scared. I am scared shitless. Yeah I admitted it!” I whispered. I blinked several times to keep the tears from forcing themselves out of my hazel eyes. ”Then go tell an administrator! They are less than 500 feet away. Here I will help you up! I will go up there with you.” Suddenly the person that I used to know before freshman year reared its head, in the midst of all this confusion. “NO!” I screamed. Caylee looked at me, wondering what was wrong. “No. I don’t need help. I can do this. I got this.” “Are you sure?” Caylee asked. I smiled the smile I had had less than a year ago. It rarely showed itself anymore. I got up and everything started spinning. I slowly sat back down. Then I got back up again. I walked cautiously up to the administrator, feeling nauseous and unsure of what I was doing. Apparently my brain knew exactly what to say. “I need help. I am being bullied by Chase Reynolds. Please help me. He threatened to kill me. They call me a whore and a bitch and Barney. But Chase, he just threatened to kill me. Please help.” The administrator grinned and walked away. I glanced at Caylee and she motioned for me to follow the administrator, but honestly I was tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of lying to everyone.  I just tired of being me.  I was tired of being the one that everyone constantly used as their personal verbal punching bag. I was tired of just being disabled. Before I knew it, tearing were streaming down my red cheeks. I was running into the bathroom and collapsing against one of the white walls.  I ran my trembling fingers through my hair. I didn’t know what to do. The girl I used to know before freshman year was strong and had a spunky attitude. I had never let anyone see me cry. I never had scattered emotions, until now. I was always one move ahead of life.  Now I was ten moves behind and I was struggling to keep up. I felt like I was a boxer in the ring. My opponent beat me down over and over. A busted lip. Another broken nose and a broken leg. No big deal. Blood is everywhere. I get tired of fighting so I give up and my opponent wins. He wins so many matches I loose count. I just get tired of fighting. I get tired of fighting for my right to live peacefully, without people judging me. I’ve never been so scared. I had never had to stand up for myself this much for an extended period of time. For me, there was always an out. It had never been this bad. I got up and washed my face. When I looked in the mirror I saw someone I didn’t even recognize. I wouldn’t have done this before him. I wouldn’t have stooped to their level. Oh never would Arianna have done that.

But just then, standing in front of the mirror I asked myself who I had become. The happy bubbly, outgoing young woman had disappeared. The one that the teachers pointed to and said “I have her.” disappeared. The one that all her moms’ friends told her she was a beauty. All gone. Just like that. The girl I had been hid behind a mask, behind a puffy eyed, chapped lip face. My majestic blue eyes that once lit up when I smiled were a dark dull color now. My skin gave no vibrant color and my cheek bones were pale. My hair which used to be blonde and shiny was now the dullest brown you could imagine. It was so dull it looked gray. I was scared. Scared, not of what Chase would do to me, but what I would become when it was all over. He is the monster, not you, I thought. Just then someone walked into the bathroom and I hid my face. I had always believed that crying made a person appear weak. “Hey. You okay Ari?” It was Caylee. I looked up and she gave me a hug. I started sobbing. She looked at me and said something I will forever remember. “What are you afraid of? He isn’t worth your tears.” She wiped away my tears. “You know the best thing to know right now? It’s a quote that my dad told me forever ago. People aren’t crying because they’re weak, but because they have been strong for too long.”  I remember how she looked at me after she said that. I think that’s the only reason I went back out there. After so many tears I realized I had to be strong, even if I had to fake a smile. But that’s okay. I did it everyday anyways.

That night writing in my journal I asked many questions that didn’t have answers. Some of them answered themselves. I asked myself why I wouldn’t tell my parents. My thinking then was that if they got him in trouble then when he came back to school, he’d be pissed and who better to take his anger out on than his victim? Why didn’t I just kick him in the balls and get it over with? Because I would be the one to get into trouble, not him. Suspension from school. He wouldn’t get in trouble and I would look stupid. I would have to tell my parents everything and then they would take legal action against the school for not doing anything to help me, especially after I begged them for it. I would have to tell the administration and they would have laughed at me. Not to mention my perfect teachers pet reputation would nearly be ruined. I didn’t want to have to explain my reasoning. I was the victim and I didn’t want to have to relive the whole thing over and let the administration see me cry. I didn’t want them to pretend they cared. I wanted someone who really cared. The only person that knew what happened was Caylee. Today, I realized I should have said something, no matter the consequences. My parents would have believed me and they would have helped me out. And that’s where I messed up. That was my screw up in this whole mess.

However, that same night, I did something I never did. I got down on my knees and put my hands together and said something like “God, I don’t know if you’re just busy or whatever. Heck I don’t know if you’re really up there. But please if you are, help me out. Make this bully stop. Make him realize what he did was wrong. Or even better, make him go away. I am tired of pretending. Just for once help me out. That would be the best thing ever. Please don’t let him hurt me. If I am really your child like you say, protect me. Thanks. Amen.”  My parents had taken me once or twice to a church service. I didn’t know if I had prayed the proper way, but I just wanted God to help me. I climbed into bed, not knowing it would only get worse.

Several weeks passed and they threw things at me and laughed. On Valentines Day, I went to the bathroom with Caylee to help her with her makeup and when we came back our table had a tea on it. On the top of the tea was scribbled “To Ari, I love you. From Chase.” I read it. I thought about this tea in my hand. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings if he did like me. Caylee looked at it and raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t drink that. I don’t know what they did to it. I don’t even want to think of the possible things that Chase and his table could have done. Don’t drink it.” Just then, the whole table of boys looked at me and burst into laughter. I didn’t know what to do. So I threw it away. I felt bad, yes, but I also didn’t want to hand them another reason to make fun of me. We laughed it off, just like every time before.

Like every year, I went to visit my orthopedic doctor, Dr. B. He mentioned another surgery to help improve my walking yet again. It would leave another 3 scars on my body. “Where?” was all I wanted to know. “They will be on the side of your ankle and on both the left side and right side of your right foot.” He said pointing to the top of my foot. I was scared and remembering my last surgery made it even worse. I started to cry and repeating myself over and over “No, I don’t want to have it. No.” My parents decided then and there to have it done, knowing that it would be the best thing for me. I pitched a fit on the way home, telling them that I didn’t want to have it.  I told them that I was scared and I didn’t want to have it. They told me it was too bad because it was happening, no matter what. I cried even harder, my makeup running down my face and ruining my white shirt I had bought a week before. Finally, I said “I will be made fun of.” But really they had no idea how bad it was.

A couple months later, we went to the out patient area in the hospital and the nurses asked me if I would like to have my parents go with me to surgery and I said “No. I've done this before. I can do it again.” I figured if it was going to happen, there was no use in fighting it. My parents walked me to the Red Line and I started crying. I admitted I was scared and I didn’t want it to be as bad as it was before. My parents asked me to be strong and I knew I could do nothing but be strong. As the nurses pushed me away from my parents I couldn’t stop crying. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. They prepped me and switched me over to the operating table. Dr. B. said “It’ll only be a seven out of ten.” In my head I multiplied it by 4. And then I was out. When I woke up I felt pain rushing down my right leg. My parents were already there, sitting by my side. I moaned and said it hurt a lot. Looking down at my foot made the pain even worse. I cringed and mumbled “It’s worse than a seven.” I was in so much pain. I just wanted to die. I went home and laid in bed, helpless. My friends brought me gifts and I watched TV. In the beginning I couldn’t walk, but after about a week I could limp, painfully, to the bathroom. I knew would need more physical therapy. I had gone to therapy for most of my life, so it was normal for me. It took a lot of work, but finally I was ready to return to school. Two weeks after my surgery, I was on my way to school.  I was scared, but Caylee was all alone with Chase. Funny thing was is he never bullied her, just me. I went back to school and I was immediately overwhelmed with school work. And then I had lunch. I was expecting some rude comments from Chase when I returned to school, but he said very little. For several days he was quieter than normal.

Then one day Chase came over and started laughing. I knew it wouldn’t be good. Inhale and exhale and try not to strangle him I thought.  “So you’re adopted?” He laughed again. “Yeah.” I said. “That’s cool. I think. Where from?” He asked. “Russia.” I said, awaiting the blow. “So you were an orphan freak?” “I guess.” I knew that wasn’t the main idea of his question. “I bet your mom wanted to drop you out of the hospital window when she saw your ugly face for the first time,” He smiled. “And she probably would have if she didn’t think about the ugly babies. Dropping you out of the window to the dumpster would have insulted them.” Caylee looked at him with a disgusted look on her face. “That’s not true!” “Then why did she give Arianna up? Exactly!!!” Gosh, I hated the way my name rolled off his tongue. Gross. It made me sound like a prostitute. I just rolled my eyes, but inside I was crying. Sobbing. Bawling.  I just wanted it to stop. I glared at him and said nothing. Even though I wanted to scream at him. I just was silent. Silence, my dad said, was the best answer you could give to someone.

Finally, I had had enough, I told my favorite teacher and she about pulled Chase out of the cafeteria by the ear. She said something like “If you ever, I mean ever, make fun of her like you’ve been doing, I will make sure that you get expelled. Do you understand me?” So Chase stopped bothering me, but his friends took over. They continued to do things and throw things. Chase? He just sat there, feet on the table with his ear buds on and ignored everything going on around him. That made me so angry. I wanted to yell. Yell at him for doing what he did to me. Scream at him, telling him to stop. But I realized also it would do nothing for me except make me look stupid. I didn’t want that. So I just let them do it. I came up with some stupid excuses for them. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I wanted to cry and cry some more. I wanted to blame myself. There’s was only one little problem. There was only one person to blame. That one person would be me. So I blamed myself for being bullied. I was angry at myself for not having the guts to punch the jerk in the face. But I didn’t have the guts to punch someone in the face. I never will. I am too nice of a person.

One day, it got around the freshman class that he was leaving. I didn’t believe them. However, when Caylee said it, I believed her. I didn’t know what to do when I heard the news. I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him, cry, or just do nothing. My emotions were so scattered, I fell over. So I went to the bathroom and cried. Caylee was there and she said “You don’t have to deal with him anymore. He’s leaving. He’s gonna leave.” I just cried and cried. I was so happy. It was all over and I had survived. I made it through Freshman year. Caylee and I hugged. I don’t remember what the last thing he said, but I know it wasn’t nice.  But everything has to  get worse before it gets better.

Honestly, I don’t know how much my parents knew of this boy and how badly I was scarred from his cruel words. And I intentionally kept it on the down low. After Chase left, I told them. I don’t remember how or when, but I know I did. I told my dad everything of what he said to me, I did not tell him of the things I felt. Why didn’t I? I ask myself why I didn’t tell him earlier, but I didn’t. I believe it was because of the past in our family. My aunt and uncle. I didn’t want my mom to overreact and freak out. After all, it was all over. At least, that’s what I thought.

After Chase left, that summer is a summer I will forever remember. It was full of laughter, smiles, and glee. But on August 5^th, I had to return to that school. To that school where the administration didn’t give half a flyin’ macaroni elbow. I had to return to that school where I felt alone and scared, where everyone stared. I had to go back to that school that changed the person I was.

Thank you for reading this, I know it is long and I hope you realized one thing.. Bullying in no form is okay. Even a stare can be a form of bullying. Feel free to read the rest of my blog because this is just MY story, there are so many others that need to be heard. Feel free to leave a comment below. :)
Thank you!
Ari