Here’s my sad little story

Picture this: Me, a smart, whippet-thin second grader with confidence issues. My bully, a short, greasy-haired girl with weak morals. Our teacher paired us together for math class, where we would rotate to different stations to do different math related activities. At first, she was nice to me, but I noticed something. She would take all the materials, and not give any to me. She would also say really hurtful things, about how I didn’t deserve anything, or I wasn’t good enough. Everyday she would put me down like that, and I would sit there and take it because I didn’t have the courage to stop her. It made my stomach twist and ache. I didn’t want to tell my teacher because I kept thinking to myself that it wasn’t that bad, and that I shouldn’t bother her. But, one day, the bully casually remarked to me she had a knife stowed in her backpack, which of course probably wasn’t true, but that was the tipping point. I told my teacher, who told the principal, and after that I wasn’t picked on (at least by that girl) ever again.