Kindergarten Bully When I was around five, I finally got out of the sketchy pre-school far away from my apartment. My mother enrolled me in another school, one much farther away, it took more than a few minutes to get there, unlike in my old school. Since I was five, I don't remember much. I do remember the odd feeling of dread. Of course, if anybody was going to a new place, somewhere they weren't familiar with, they would obviously feel dread, and a little bit of nervousness. But the dread I felt consumed me, in a way it shouldn't . Of course I told my mother, telling her about the sinking feeling in my stomach, as if my heart decided to jump down to my feet. I remembered the way she laughed, the way she looked at me, as if she was in on a joke I didn't know about. I felt frustrated then. Did she not understand what I was saying? Did she not get what I was trying to ask? Had I not made myself clear enough? My mother obviously noticed my discomfort and frustration as she turned to look at me from the front seat. "Look," she said, her face full of sympathy, "it's just kindergarten, relax, everything's going to be alright." She smiled at me then, and for a moment, just a moment, the feeling was gone, and I was relaxed. When we stepped in the building, there was a chubby lady waiting for me. She looked at me and smiled a little too sweetly. "Hello there, my name is Rosie, and you can take a seat right at this table," She pointed to a table filled with other children coloring furiously. I looked back at my mother, looking for confirmation, only to realize all to late that she had left. I felt the urge to cry out and run after her, but I bit my lip and squeezed my hands together until my knuckles were white. I was not going to be a little cry baby like the snotty girls in preschool. I looked at the girl to my left, and smiled a bit. To my surprise, she smiled back. "Hey," I looked down nervously, she patiently waited for me to continue. "My name is Mia, and um, do you want to, um, be friends, maybe?" I looked back up hopefully. She beamed at me, looking excited, "Yeah, ok." I don't know exactly when or how she came, but she did. At first it was the mean comments and hard glare. I remember one day, during nap time, Rosie was in a good mood, and she let us share our blankets with people. I cried out with delight, I remember, and immediately turned to go to my friend. It wasn't a surprise that she was there with her, but my heart did drop a little. "Hey," I said a little out of breath from running over there out of excitement, "Can I join you guys?" I asked, smiling a little to lift the tense apostrophe. Although my friend smiled back at me, the girl next to her lifted her chin. "The teacher only said two people per towel, so get out." She snapped, showing me no mercy at all. "Ok," I whispered, feeling extremely hurt, I looked down at my worn shoes, "have fun." Before my vision got blurry, I saw my friend looking at me, her face full of pity and regret. I ran back over to my towel and hid under it, crying to myself. A few days later, things only got worse. While we were at recess, she gave me a full lecture about how I was going to hell that lasted the whole period. I cried that day. When Rosie asked me what was wrong, I lied. I lied. That was when the phone calls started, she would call my mother, and then my mother would pass the phone to my shaking hands, once the phone was in my possession the mean comments would start, somewhere in between, threats made its way in there too, only leaving me more and more scared. Soon enough my mom caught on, noticing my fearful expression every time she called. She didn't pry, she just made up excuses or didn't pick up the phone once she saw the number. She didn't ask, and for that, I was grateful. Things became worse and worse, until finally kindergarten ended and first grade started and she wasn't there. To this day I can't forget I powerless and weak I felt whenever she did anything. If you or someone you know is a victim of bullying, don't let it go unseen, don't be a bystander. Tell a trusted adult, or stand up to the bully yourself. No one deserves to be treated with such low respect, and let that, be known. Authors note- READ COMMENTS My mother obviously noticed my discomfort and frustration as she turned around and looked at me f