Continued story from Issue three of The Roar, “The bully boardgame.” Photo by SHAI NIELSON

It never crossed my mind. It seemed too impossible to be true. But in the end, it turned out to be exactly what I thought it couldn’t be: my “best friends” were actually my bullies.

It all started on the first day of second grade. My class had a new kid, a girl named Sami. Within the first few weeks we became best friends. She was a little — let’s just say — grumpy at times, and she hated whenever I hung out or played with any other kids at recess. She went as far as to tell me I couldn’t have any other friends but her.

I was 8, so I agreed.

We were like any best friends, always hanging out and having sleepovers.

By sixth grade, we had accumulated four more friends. Sami and our other friend Sara were “the leaders” of the group, and they sure did enjoy that power.

I was the most sensitive of the group and let small things get to me. This must have been exciting to Sami and Sara because they relished in the reactions I gave to their teasing.

Throughout the years of elementary school, they would call me names like “stupid” or “loser,” and not in a joking manner, but as serious remarks to me. That may not seem too terrible now if they were said to me as a 17-year-old, but back then when I was 9 and 10-years-old, their comments were cruel and made me feel terrible.

They went on to always ridicule my ideas or thoughts, tearing my confidence down whenever they could.

It was like a game to them, like Monopoly. They owned every single landmark and covered the game board with hotels, leaving me to pay for every move I made. They had a million “Get out of jail free” cards and all I had was a small supply of money that was always running out yet never gone enough for me to be out of the game.

I was too young to realize what they were doing. Perhaps they were, too.

If I ever stood up for a moment to call them out on it, they simply claimed it was me being too sensitive and “stupid.” Of course, that only made me cry harder or feel worse, and made them feel stronger.

Sami and Sara’s taunting was enough misery until eventually the others in the group fed into the torture by calling me names and picking on me, as well.

I came home crying most days, yet I still never thought that their treatment toward me was bullying.

I mean, me? Bullied? I wasn’t necessarily above being bullied, but these were my friends, they couldn’t possibly do that to me.

My dad went to the principal after trying to talk to their parents (which did not go well), and once the group heard about that, it was even more downhill from there (if that was possible).

By this time, we were all in seventh grade and still no one had ever told Sami, Sara or the others that what they were doing was wrong. To them it was fun or nothing serious — just me being too sensitive.

My dad tried to make the accusations anonymous to the principal, but those things never work out how you want. I ended up in the principal’s office with Sami and Sara, having to defend myself with tears rolling down my cheeks and their hateful eyes stabbing me from a foot away in the chairs next to me.

Being taken out of class can be fun, unless it’s to be tattled on and then reprimanded by the principal. Even worse when you’re the tattler and the two being accused tell everyone else what a terrible person you are afterwards.

Nothing could really be done by the principal besides a stern lecture to them and a lame apology from them to me that meant nothing. If anything, Sami and Sara took that meeting with the principal as fuel for an even bigger fire they planned on spreading and letting loose on me.

It got worse as they used a more mature vocabulary, including cuss words, when taunting me until they could get me crying in the middle of the lunch eating area in front of everyone, and almost everyday.

That’s when I finally realized I was being bullied.

Not knowing where I fit in or who I would sit with at lunch or talk to in class was traumatizing. I felt like I really was everything Sami and Sara said I was. Maybe I didn’t deserve friends.

I ended up sitting by myself or going back and forth between other groups who weren’t really accepting new members and my old group who kept saying they were sorry only to get me back and mentally abuse me more.

Sami, Sara and the others only wanted to be my friend so they could be cruel and rude to me, so they could feel better about themselves by degrading someone else, so they could be bullies.

Sadly, though, others called it “teen girl drama” and thought little of it.

Looking back now, I feel bad for some of the other girls. They never joined our group of friends to bully me, they just ended up being followers who were too young to realize what they were doing and not strong enough to try to stop it.

In eighth grade, I finally found my spot in a good group of friends who made me feel good about myself and gave me confidence instead of tearing me down. They showed me what real friends are like. They showed me that I should never put up with people who spend their time making others feel bad about themselves.

Writing this, it all sounds so cliche: the bullied girl finally finds friends and lives a happy life, but in reality, that cliche is too often not fulfilled. Many people who are bullied never find an escape, or when they do, it’s one that can end their life.

And actually, why is this a cliche anyways? Why is being bullied such a normal thing in today’s society and the lives of young children and teens?

Thinking of my own story, I realize that maybe more kids are bullied than society believes because the kids are teased and taunted by their “friends” or don’t realize that they truly are being bullied.

Yes, I feel like a stronger person and that my past shaped who I am today, but does that still make it okay?

To this day I still have insecurity issues and feel the effects of being bullied for six years as a kid. Many other children are bullied for much longer and don’t know how to get away from it.

I don’t have the perfect solution to rid bullying from the world forever and save innocent children from being tragically affected by bullies, but I do think it can be lessened and stopped.

It just takes one voice to start something and we have 1765  voices at this school.

By SHAI NIELSON