There's hundreds thousends, millions, billions of girls in the world. Smart girls, pretty girls, talented girls, bad girls, good girls, weird, strange girls, perfect girls, fake girls, blonde hair blue eyed girls. Then there's me Jamie Harp, Plain old Jamie Harp. Yes, I know Jamie is a boy's name, and I know what your first thought is of me, because we are all so judgemental nowadays. Your thinking that I'm a tomboy. Someone who like's to play football, run around, and hang outside with a bunch of boys outside McDonalds, and cause a lot of havoc...but I'm not one of those people. I'm nothing like that at all. Though I'm not one of those girl's who like's to smoother myself in makeup, making myself look like a barbie doll, or wear short skimpty skirt's that only just cover up my bum. But if I were one of those girls, that would be fine. Because that is how we want to be. I'm not the popular girl in any of the school's I've been to. I'm not popular with the boys, never have been, never will be. But that's okay. I don't go round school laughing high pitched with another group of girls. But even if I was, so? I'm me. I'm Jamie Harp. I'm an individual. But that's okay, that's who we should be. We shouldn't copy our friends just because it make's us look good. I'm Jamie Harp. I'm 15 year's old. I have black hair, skin as pale as casper, dark hazel eyes, and I wear glasses. But that is what make's me, me. This is me, and nobody can change me.
Since I was eleven years old, and I moved into secondary school, I got called a bunch of horrible, upsetting names. My dad was in jail ever since I was five, and somehow that got around my first secondary school, I don't know how, but I got bullied about it. Yes, bullied. I don't mean a little girly fall out, I mean bullied. I got called more upsetting names, I got pushed around, I'd got hit, I'd come home from school black and blue, with bruises all over my arms, and my back. I got dinner thrown over me, but what I don't understand is...why? I stuck it out for about two years, but then it got too much. I had to move school's. When it got around I got teased, and got called names like baby. I knew I should of just stuck it out, but I couldn't.
I went to my new school when I was in year eight, going into year nine. It was fine for a few months, I got called the odd name, and still got pushed around a little, but I had my own little group of friends, so I coped. Untill someone from my old school moved to my school. She told everyone lie's about me, made me loose all my friend's, and all hell started again. I decided I wouldn't move school's and just simply ask the girl why shy picked on me, why she choose to bully me, what was wrong with me. She gave me the most simplest, most stupidest answer. She picked on me. She bullied me because I wasn't one of the popular girls. All because I was myself. She said if I changed, became more girly, and outgoing she'd stop. She said I was an emabaressment to the school. But I wasn't going to change, for anybody! She got the jist that I wasn't going to change, so it got worst. I decided not to tell my mum, I needed to stick up for myself, not run away from my probblems. It was only February, I had only been at the schoool for 6 months, just another six to go. But my mum soon found out. The teacher called my mum into school and told her that I was having some probblems, so then without me having a choice mum packed our bags, and took me into another school. I had to move school because I was being myself...
I settled into my new school...not really. This was horrible. The teacher's were horrible aswell as the student's. I wasn't really being bullied here, so it all went well I suppose... the only thing I didn't like was the neighbourhood I was in... I got called names like Casper, and Emo there. All the people on my street assumed that I slit my wrists, because I had black hair. It wasn;t my fault though... I didn;t choose my hair to be this colour, my mum and dad had funny coloured hair, so mine was black, and my mum wouldn;t let me dye my hair, even when I begged her. Mum heard all the name's I was being called so she made us move AGAIN. I was sick and tired of moving. But because I am now in year ten, we can't move again! I have choosen my options, been put into my GCSE groups, so hopefully I will get on. Hopefully I will make friend's. Hopefully I will be able to be myself...
© Copyright 2016 Holly Blackwell. All rights reserved.
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