Warning: Strong and severe content. Mentions of suicide.

Also, disclaimer, this is not me. This is not from my point of view. 

Once. twice. Three times. I've met the ground again and again. I've endured, I've survived, I've just barely lived through the invisible knives you throw whenever I'm in range. I've seen that small picture of you as words appeared on my screen, telling how I'm not worth anything, how nobody would miss me if I was gone, how I should just leave forever.

What did I do to deserve this? Is my existence really so terrible that you have to try and convince me to end it? Am I really hurting you that much?

I've lost count of the times I've hit the sidewalk, tearing my hands and knees, my blood and cries embedded in the concrete as a constant reminder of exactly how much I can be hurt, and how much worse it could get. I've tried to stay away. I've tried to leave you alone, I've tried my hardest to do what you ask. But I can't seem to please you. People don't bother you--the crowd just makes for a spectacle, a free-viewing of my humiliation. My pillow is stained, my keyboard glitching from the many tears that have infiltrated the circuits.

What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to give you the right to make my life a living hell? You say no one will miss me? You want to test that theory? Because I have a hard time imagining Hell is worse than this.

You treat me like I'm worth less than you are. Take a DNA test--I'm human too. I'm just like you. What makes me a target for renewed torture? What crime have I committed, who have I hurt, what have I done to deserve the words you throw, and the feeling of your hands on my back as the ground rushes to greet me?

I'm sorry. Whatever I did I'm sorry. If I hurt you in a past life, if some unknown force is fueling your hatred towards me, I'm sorry. Just please. Please stop. I don't know how to make you stop. I don't know what to say, what to do to make you realize how much I'm suffering. My friends say I've changed, but they don't know. They won't listen. I'm all I have left--please don't ruin it for me.

But you'll never read this. Never hear this. Never see it. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow.

Sincerely,

One Of You

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Guys, bullying is serious. Really serious. If you see it, put a stop to it. Our job as writers is to say things, to shout to the world all the problems that need fixing. Without us, the world would be a lot worse. There's a thousand cliches I could say, a thousand things we've all heard in those anti-bullying lessons at school. But I won't. All I'll say is this: The person suffering? They exist. They're out there somewhere and they're shouting for help. Will you help them? Or will you breeze right by this, all because it's not you?

Stop bullying. End the hatred. It takes one person to get a smile, and one smile to change a life.