Looking back at high school is the most painful memory I have. And I’ve got plenty of terrible stories I can tell you that should be higher on that list.
You called me a slut, a whore, the devil, a bitch. You screamed it at the top of your lungs in public places.
You kicked me and punched me and pushed me to the ground. You pulled my hair, pulled my pants down, trashed my school books and grafitti’d my locker.
You told me I was fat, ugly and worthless. You started rumor’s about me being pregnant, three times. When I’d never had sex.
You sat and teased me with your friends but acted all nice to me alone. You pretended to be my friend to get more ammunition to hurt me with.
You ruined my self esteem, my confidence and my self worth. You made me cry more than I will ever admit.
You broke me.
So don’t you DARE request to be a friend of mine on Facebook. Don’t think that 12 years has made me forget the person (people) that you are, and the person that you made me think I was.
I hope you feel guilty about what you did to me. I hope the shame eats at your insides when your world is quiet.
Just like the pain you caused still makes me cry.
Twelve years, you are not forgiven. None of you.
