'Jupiter Krawiec sucks' is one of the most common opinions I hear from my peers—-and there's nothing worse than that. I hate it more than anything.

Despite doing absolutely nothing to them, they hate me with every fiber of their being—--it even started back when we were in elementary school... Kindergarten to be exact; I guess I can't blame them... I mean, who would want to be friends with someone named 'Jupiter'?

I'd love to just pretend my name came from some sort of Roman god—--like I believe most people assume—--but it's not... Well, it's not like my parents told me that it was, anyways... I suspect the name comes from that old saying about girls and college and boys and y'know... Jupiter... I mean, they rhyme.

Matter of fact, people didn't ignore that my name rhymed with a certain other word. In elementary school, a rhyme of sorts spread—--first in my class, then on the playground and cafeteria... Soon enough, the only thing I heard on the bus was: "My dog's dumb, but Jupiter is stupider!~"

And that was far from the worst thing my peers had ever said about me—--it's like every new school year that passes, it keeps getting worse and worse. ...The taunts are totally relentless.

I've been called both 'fat' because god forbid I ate lunch at school once and a 'pencil-thin stick figure' because I had worn a shirt in my size that had highlighted just how not broad my shoulders were. ...Ever since these specific occurrences, I've made sure to wear baggier clothes—-normally and actually in gym class, as well as completely avoiding lunch at school.

I've been called ugly a fair share too—--alongside other names such as: repulsive, disgusting, disfigured, unattractive, foul, vile, nasty, grotesque, monstrous, or even straight up 'fugly'.

Most notoriously though, I've been called: hideous; I've been called by that one name so often that I'm starting to think it might actually be my name.

...Jupiter 'Hideous' Krawiec...

Yeah... Sounds about right.

Most of the time, in highschool, even if a person is low on the totem pole, they've still got 'their people'---the ones they can completely confide in, the ones that have their back to matter what, the one who will tell someone off for fucking with them... ...The ones that'll make them feel loved... Worthy of only the best things that life can offer—-but as amazing as all of that sounds, unfortunately for me, I've never had that.

You see, even in elementary school, I had no friends.

The day before the first day of kindergarten, I was excited... Ecstatic. ...I had seen plenty of shows on the TV where people had made friends with other characters and their bonds soon became unbreakable in the following episodes. I grew up thinking friends meant everything... But unfortunately, that wasn't the case, as I soon found out, cruelly, when I walked into that classroom.

I was distraught when I didn't make a single friend in my classroom by the end of the day. I was a little bit shy, sure, but that hadn't stopped me from walking up to other students and trying to introduce myself. The girls had screamed when I did, fleeing to the other corner of the room, thoroughly insisting I had 'boy germs' that they didn't want near them... And yeah, yeah... I know how little kids are, but that didn't stop it from hurting a little though.

I had tried to shrug that feeling off and approached a group of boys in my class who were playing with the cars on the styrofoam puzzle piece mat. I introduced myself and before I could ask to join them, one of the other boys... Brody, I think his name was... told me that I "looked like an elderly cat on its deathbed had slept with roadkill to make me".

And that fucking hurt to hear.

Sure I hadn't looked exactly the same as them... I was pale, but it wasn't by choice. I hadn't been able to go to the beach like they all had, so I was missing a healthy tan. ...My parents barely let me play outside and going to the park was totally "out of the question" to them.

Most kids in my class that year had a lighter hair color—-a bright blonde or a dishwater color... My hair was dark to say the least—-so, that alone made me stand out compared to my peers at the time.

My eyes were already dull too... silver, to be exact—-unlike the vibrant shades of blue, green, and brown of my classmates.

And I suppose my nose was a little odd compared to theirs. I have a ridge that sticks out on the bridge—-like a bump... It's decently common in people of Eastern European descent like me—-it was something I couldn't control, but still, despite that, kids still made fun of me for it... Someone kept saying my nose looked 'broken'. One girl, Abby, had told me that I 'needed plastic surgery to fix it... Asap'.

After Brody's words though, all of the other boys accompanying him burst into fits of laughter, wheezing and crying at it because supposedly it was 'just that funny' to them. 

Something inside of me had just snapped at that point, and tears had threatened to spill from their ducts, and pour down my face, unstably. I had run to the teacher and asked to use the restroom, but she had said 'no'. The teacher helper, a nice old lady named Mrs. Carmichael, had then spoken up over my kindergarten teacher and allowed me a restroom pass.

I had run to the restroom as fast as I could, hiding in a stall for nearly a half-hour. I had burst into tears the moment I got inside the stall and closed the door. When I finally felt like I wouldn't hyperventilate, I quietly went back to the classroom, letting Brody's words repeat again and again in my mind, alongside my classmates' laughter. I told the teacher and Mrs. Carmichael that I had gotten sick and I was sent to the nurse's office, where they had promptly called my parents and then taken me home.

Carmichael had to fight my teacher on that decision though, my teacher hadn't wanted me to go home... She never did like me anyways.

My teacher had yelled at me and called me a very cruel word that started with an R when I said I didn't know how to tie my shoes yet... And I was literally only five at the time. She had even given me detention for a month, not allowing me to go outside for recess all because I couldn't write my letter A's 'properly'. ...Not that I was missing out on recess anyway—--after the detention had ended and the punishment was lifted, I came to realize that recess was its own new kind of hell for me. (Every day I had literally gotten beaten up by Brody.)

In that kindergarten class, the only single person who showed me any sort of kindness was Mrs. Carmichael... She had a kind heart... But, unfortunately, she passed away when I was in third grade; when I heard about that, I was almost done with my classes... I got home that day and just cried.

From that point on, teachers and students alike just hated me. I got detention often for things I didn't do—--as my peers would just blame me for things they had done instead of facing the consequences for each said thing.

One time, I had a teacher—--in fifth grade—--who gave me detention for not turning my work in at least three weeks in advance.

Everything had gotten so bad that people would even sabotage my year book photos by throwing things at me like pencils and glue sticks or by pushing me out of the chair... or even one time putting melted cheese in my hair.

Years and years of isolation and torment later, I'm about to go into junior year... And just like all of the years before this, I know it'll be hell on earth.

"Just another miserable year," I murmur to myself. "You can handle it, Jupiter. It's just junior year... and senior year." I gulp. "...and then a miserable life of all of your bosses and coworkers hating you." I weakly sigh, an anxious feeling creeping from my stomach up into my throat. "Yay..." I rub my face, exhausted with everything. "Hooray for me..."

I sigh yet again, getting ready for my day, knowing the last few days left of summer break will be just as much hell as the school year itself.