Behind What You See

Behind What You See

Ally Campton has been bullied through every year of high school so far. She didn’t even think it was possible to go near her school without being hurt in some way. But after moving twice with her mother, she finally thought it was over.
But when her troubles followed her, she didn’t think she was strong enough to stand up for herself. At least not on her own.


Constructive criticism, ratings, and comments are always appreciated! :)

Chapter 1

How It Started

I hate you.
You’re awful.
You’re worthless.
No one wants you.
You have no friends.
You have no life.
Go die in a hole.

The list went on and on.

Every day, I would come home to a message just like that on at least one of my social media sites. They all said almost the same thing. Less than a week after I moved to my new home in Colorado, it all started. Day after day, it just kept going.

Back when I lived with my mom in Virginia, I was one of the prime candidates for bullying.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t physical bulling. Sometimes I wish it was.

I was always that girl who was bullied emotionally. In a way, you could call it social bullying. Because that’s exactly what it was, in a sense.

Before I started high school, I had been living in Florida. And I missed it like crazy every day. I went to middle school in a small city outside of St. Petersburg. I had a few close friends, but other than that, I was left alone by everyone else. I was fine with that. In fact, I liked it that way. It was probably one of the only places I had ever felt that happy.

I never knew my father; he died in a car crash before I was born. I spent my childhood in the same house my parents bought right after they were married. Most people would think that would be the hardest thing to live with. Staying in the same house where my father was living before he died.

After he passed away, my mother still had enough money to support the two of us, but her job would start requiring her to move every few years. The move to Virginia was the worst.

Even though I never met my father, the town I grew up in was the one place where I felt connected to him. My parents lived together in the house for just under a year. They were still considered newlyweds when the accident happened.

But there was something about seeing the pictures of my dad in different places in the house, and around town. I felt like if I stood in that place, even for a minute, that maybe I could know my father, just for a second.

That’s when we moved to Virginia, and the bullying started.

I was constantly reminded that every other sixteen year old in my sophomore class was better than I was. Every party, sporting event, and gathering I didn’t attend, I would be immediately notified that the reason I wasn’t there, was because I wasn’t invited.

I had become a game. It was like my classmates were all competing to see who could come up with the most creative way to get under my skin and make me feel the worst.

I put up with that for my first two years of high school in Virginia, and I never told anyone about it.

Most people would just tell me to go to a teacher or my mom. But I knew that the teachers wouldn’t care. They were convinced that all the other teens in my class we were perfect little angels, with straight A’s and wealthy parents.

I guess all that was true from our teacher’s point of view. All they saw was me being the odd-ball of the class. They never saw what would go on in the hallways, or outside of school. My class mates were careful not to let the teachers see them doing anything bad to me.

They never hit me, or physically bullied me, and they never verbally bullied me either. At least not to my face.

"Who, Ally?" One would say, pretending not to know who I was, as a few of the “popular kids” walked past me in the hallway.

"Oh, her," someone else would reply.

"Yeah, she's a total loser."

Another other would nod, "she has no life, and no friends."

But the problem was, I could argue, they were right. I hadn’t made any friends since I moved to Virginia, and I wasn’t involved in anything at the school.

My first two years of high school were like that. I never complained, I never told anyone, and I never stood up for myself. Not once.

But deep down inside, it was killing me. Every night I would come home, I would do my best to keep it together for my mom. I never wanted to bother my mom; she was a workaholic. All she cared about was making sure that we were comfortable, and that I was able to go to a good college. But as soon as she went to bed, I would hide away in my bedroom, and cry myself to sleep.

But I thought it was finally over when my mom told me that we were moving again. This time to half way across the country, to Colorado. Thousands of miles away, where my classmates couldn’t hurt me.

I had never been so happy to leave a school behind.

But somehow, my problems followed me. That’s when the worst of it started.


~~~~~
Well, hello there! Thank you so much for reading. If you haven’t already figured it out, this is my entry for the Writing Contest. This is my first time entering a writing contest on here, so I hope I’ll be able to put my mind to it and finish it time.
As I said above, constructive criticism, comments, and ratings are great appreciated. :)
Thanks again!
~Christina

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