text: KrissyKiller the Breaking of the Innocent when nothing else will work... 
   
   
     
   What is a bully? Let me tell you my definition. A bully is someone who constantly puts other people down because of how they look, talk, or who they hang out with.  
  	My name is Amaranda Lynn VonDanue. I am 16 years old and I have been bullied since I can remember. I am not one of the pretty popular girls; I am a band geek that gets good grades.  I have braces, bright red hair, and my face is covered in freckles. I have one friend, her name is Becky. Becky is a short plump girl with zits on her face and large glasses. We grew up next door to each other and go to the same school. Both of us always find ourselves in the same situation. We find ourselves at either my house or hers crying on each other’s shoulders.  
  	Every day we get up and walk to school together. Usually we make it to school without incident. But there was one day near the school’s entrance a group of popular kids drove by us and threw eggs at us. One hit Becky right on her new school dress, and another hit me in my hair. We ran to my house because my mother was already at work, and spent the day crying. We never said one cruel word to any of the other kids who make fun of us. 
  	The very next day we went to school and were called into the principal’s office. He wanted to know why we hadn’t shown up to school, because we weren’t the type of kids who miss school. We told him what had happened but didn’t tell him the name of the kids, because honestly we didn’t know the kids names. He had an idea which group of kids we were talking about and he promised us disciplinary measures would be taken. Apparently the kids had no problem laughing when the principal questioned them about it. They were suspended from school for a week, and apparently their parents weren’t too happy about it. Great you say? WRONG! They turned their attention to getting back at us for getting them in so much trouble.  
  	After a week or so the kids that had thrown the eggs at us cornered us in the school’s parking lot. They screamed at us that we ruined their lives, because none of them were allowed to do anything. Becky and I apologized over and over and tried to tell them that we hadn’t told on them. We didn’t even know who they were, they were a grade ahead of us and we only passed them in the halls. They called us liars and circled around us. The girls stepped forward and started pushing us. We begged them to stop, but they wouldn’t hear a word of what we had to say. Finally the girls began pulling our hair and punching us. Then when they had beaten us to the ground they kicked us. When they were done they laughed and spit on us before they walked away.  
  	We each spent some time in the hospital. Becky had a broken nose and a cracked rib. I had a large cut on my forehead that needed stitches, a fractured wrist, and a black eye. Our parents tried to press charges, but no one would step up and tell what they saw. So there was not much else to be done. 
  	When our time at the hospital was up we returned home, we spent every day together. We didn’t want to go back to school, we begged and pleaded with our parents to let us be home schooled. But at the end we were scheduled to go back to school when we were fully healed. That was when Becky and I decided we wanted to end our lives together. We made a suicide pact, and decided that we would wait until the day before we were to return to school. We spent our last days spending time with our families and making sure they knew that we loved them.   
  	Our last day finally came. We lit candles, turned down the lights, and dressed in our best clothes. Then we each said our good byes and with tear streaked cheeks we slit our wrists. We held each other’s hands while the blood drained from our wrists. When we died it was how we had always done things. Together. 
  	We didn’t go to heaven, but then again we knew we wouldn’t. However to our surprise we didn’t go to hell. We found ourselves somewhere in-between.  This is the story I whisper to all the kids that think it is fun to belittle others. I whisper this story to the kids that get pleasure from other’s pain. And I remind the kids that made fun of Becky and I that this is what bullying puts a person through. Its hell and I pray that no other person should feel the way we felt; that made us put an end to lives that had only just begun.  
   
   
   Publication Date: August 6th 2011 https://www.bookrix.com/-krissykiller