-No title yet- So, sort of a prologue? Not sure. CC appreciated. *Swearing*
Posted March 6th, 2013 by pluzzle
Charlie the fab dragon |
in my bed bc I'm always tired
I never thought I’d be in this position. The one where you are sitting at your computer, and then people start sending messages to you. That was vague, sorry. Messages that kill you slowly, the ones that get to you - that stick in your head like glue. It’s awful. You just see them saying things to you, and you just sit there, reading. But you can’t help but take it all in, processing what they’re saying.
I know that you should “turn it off” and “ignore it”, but, it’s not that easy. To all who say that: Bullshit. Aboslute crap. You want to know what people say. You want to know what they think of you, deep down - so you know if you still belong here. Eventually they will log off. And stop taunting you. And then, the next day, you face it again. It’s like hell on earth. It’s like hell, full stop, end of story.
“Piece of shit,” “You’re worthless,” And the priceless one, “Go kill yourself.” Every single one of these. Every single day. And each time I die a little more. Until eventually I do what they say, I kill myself. I do what they want, I give in. But the hate ensues. People tell your family you were shit.
My family don’t know. I’d get blamed, I’d get yelled at, and I would hate myself. People are just... evil. Lets face it; society is awful. Yup. And the funny thing is that we are society too. So whatever views we have on them? They are to us too. Even more hatred. Perfect. Now, I’m not some peacekeeper, but the last thing we need in this world is hate. Look at the wars.
But really, look at us. The way we treat others. We aren’t exactly kind. There is so much... bullying. So much loathing. Most people’s minds speak before their mouths. They don’t speak - their mind does. And sometimes what the brain says is more hurtful than anything. The deadly truth. But then again - truth is what holds the world together, the super glue.
So, I shut my computer. All the way down. Log off. Log out. And I wish I had the courage to do it forever. I wish I had the bravery to not comform to what they want. I don’t want to give in, I don’t want to watch them see me die with their words. I wish I knew how to get out of it. It being the internet. The applications, the websites, the hell that we all know.
I walk out of my bedroom, the door creaking as I open it. I creep around the corner, trying to be quiet - but it’s no use. It wouldn’t matter if I was anyhow, my mum is cooking, music on and she would see me without a doubt. I hope the tear stains aren’t evident. I make sure underneath my eyes is hidden behind my hair, just to be safe. I don’t want her to know what is happening.
I don’t know whether she’d be worried or not - like, she’d be either angry or scared. Mostly angry, because I didn’t tell her. But my father... that’s a different story. He’d be angry either way, no matter the circumstances. He’s always angry. I can’t really have conversations with him anymore. Mum holds the family together.
“Hi Jesse!” She says, ecstatic to see me come out of my room.
“Hey mum.” I reply to her, iced with a fake smile.
She grins at me and goes back to making the sauce for curry, and I grab a bottle of water. At least it’s cold. So, of course, I go back to my room. Not to do anything, of course. Just to lay back on my bed and think. Sometimes thinking is good for the soul. But sometimes it induces terrible thoughts, things you never thought you’d think about.
I twist open the cap with great force, nearly spilling all the water out. I take a huge sip and sigh afterwards, just because it is so.. fresh. Ha. Bottled water, fresh. Yeah right.
I stare nervously at my Macbook, anxious to see what’s waiting for me if I dare to open it. And so, I get up and pull my chair out of beneath my desk. My finger slips under the lid and I lift upwards. It’s actually quite heavy, strangely enough. I log in, but my mouse hovers over the “Online” button on Skype.
I hesistate for a further moment, but continue to open it up. I am ambushed by hate-mail almost immediately. A frown spreads across my already sullen face. I click on the person who has sent me the most messages, and soon I realise that she’s just spamming me with “You’re fat” and “I hate you”. Not the worst. But what makes it a lot more hard to deal with is the fact that she used to be my best friend.
I remember, a couple of years ago (When we were in Grade 6 and 7) we used to have sleepovers every weekend, alternating which house every time. We used to laugh, and cry tears of laughter. We would not get any sleep, we would stay up watching movies. Then she met another girl, start of year 8. She was a new kid. She was a bitch. I hated her guts. But, I’m biased - she took my only friend, then.
This girl hated me back, with a burning passion. She hated my looks, what I wore, my personality - everything about me. Every time I saw her I would turn around, even if I urgently needed to head that way. I was actually scared of her existence - if I ran into her, I would hold my breath and pray to God that she wouldn’t say anything to terrifying. Or punch me, kick me, hit me. I still, to this day, don’t understand what I did. She has laid off that a little, now - but then, my old friend started up.
She used to just give me dirty looks in the hallways. But then it eveolved into kicking and hitting. Then she would blame me for everything and call me names (childish, I know). Then, she found my Skype name. I couldn’t block her - she’d make a new account and taunt me from there. So, I was stuck. The last thing to do would be to delete my account. But there was other people who I actually did talk to, my friends. I didn’t want this girl to ruin my ‘social’ life. Not exactly... social. But whatever.
I will always remember the first message I got sent. “Hey there, Jesse. It’s your old friend here. Wanted to have a... chat. First thing’s first... I don’t like you. At all.” She was so blunt. I mean, why would you even SAY that?! IS there something wrong with her? Who are we kidding - of course there is. She’s the girl who ditched me for a cow! Great choice. Then again - it’s not like we were that close. I mean, we had sleepovers, we ate lunch together, we laughed, but we never... talked. About anything. I mean... we did, but nothing personal. Nothing no-one else knew. We each had our secrets.
I get a contact request 5 minutes after I have logged on. Honestly... I’m scared to read. It’s probably just another bully.
“Hey there, I saw you on my nearby contacts and I wanna chat! How ‘bout it?” Just a robot. Nothing new. I’ve always wondered if people actually talk to the bots. I wonder if the robots aren’t robots, they’re just really polite? Pfft. What am I talking about? No-one is polite on the internet 100% of the time. At least, no-one I’ve met.
So, once again, I delete the conversation, click Offline and shut it down. Not for long, of course. I will always be back. Even though it’s negative, I will always be back for more - it’s strange. It’s like the ocean - it pulls you back.
“Dinner time darlings!” Mother calls out, through the halls, sound flowing through every room. My brother rushes out of his room, obviously hungry. I just slowly step out, as if I have been frightened. I make sure as I enter the dining room to plaster on a big smile, and to thank my mum.
For a while, I don’t think of the messages. But then, a news story comes on. “Girl kills self because of cyber-bullying”. I freeze. I gulp every last bit on saliva down, and just stare at the screen. My mum turns to me and says, “If you were being cyber bullied (or bullied at all for that matter), would you tell me?”
“Yes, mum. Of course I would.” I have a look of sympathy in my eyes, hiding the lie. Lying has become my greatest talent -well, my only talent, for that matter.
Then I realise what a terrible child I have become. I excuse myself to the bathroom, but instead I go and delete everything. My internet presence. It would have such an effect on me - but, it’s for the best, right?
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