How this came to be

Okay, well. My story had started out in kindergarten. All the kids in my class would call me names, and make fun of me. At first I took it as teasing, but as I grew up, I realized that for some reason… everyone hated me. I didn’t know why and frankly, I wanted it to stop, badly. It didn’t get physical until 6th grade, when these group of kids were calling me names and saying that I should burn in hell all because I had recently come out as Transgender Female to Male. These kids would torment me and push me and since my school had two giant staircases, they would push me down them. When my dad had seen bruises, I said I fell… and now that I look back on it, I should’ve told him I was being bullied. But, when I was in 7th, I got into more of my fair share of fights. I didn’t mean to argue with anyone… but I didn’t know how to channel my anger and hurt into something productive. One of my “friends” decided to “teach me a lesson”, all because I didn’t share the same opinion. Her and her friends ganged up on me after school on my way to the piano room and beat the crap out of me. My dad had asked why my lips were a blackish brown colour, and I held up a green tootsie roll lollipop wrapper saying that it was just me eating it. This year is no better. These kids are asking why I’m not dead yet. Sadly… I don’t really have anywhere to turn, and it hurts. Because every time I try to ask for help, nobody ever listens. I still get beat up, and I can’t sleep without having a nightmare. So… maybe I’ll find some help. It seems hilarious though. Why would anyone want to help me? But… yeah, that’s my story.