Laughter: it’s a good thing. In fact, it is said that if you laugh a lot, you live longer. But when the laughter is aimed toward you, it’s a lot different.

All the way back in elementary school, third grade, was my first encounter with bullies. Bullies, what are they?  Dictionary.com’s definition is a person who uses strength or power to harm or intimidate those who are weaker.  My definition is a person or group of people who say mean and hurtful things to someone. They do this in order to hurt the weaker person or to make themselves feel better. All of us are either the bullied, the bystanders or the bully.

In my school, third grade was considered the year when you found where you stood on the scale of social status. Their was the popular, sporty, tomboys, nerdy, smart, dumb, weirdos, unnoticed, and geeks. I read a lot of books, and I was very reclusive when it came to people. I didn’t care what people thought about me until one day.

“Leah. Leah. Leah!” I looked up, and it was my one and only friend, Christen. She came up to me. She seemed very aggravated. “When are you going to get your nose out of that book?”Christen growled.  The way she talked sounded as if she was ready to attack me.

“Umm… Christen, why are you mad at me?” She didn’t answer me. She shook her head and walked away.

For the next few days, I was perfectly content in my little bubble of happiness. I was oblivious to things around me. I didn’t see how Christen wouldn’t come talk to me anymore, or how she would regard me as if I had the plague. In my consciousness, I knew something was off between us.

I walked up to her one day. She was sitting with a bunch of the “popular” kids. As I came closer, I said, “Hey, Christen.” It was inaudible. There was a girl sitting next to her. As she saw me her eyes showed great interest.

“Oh, Christen. Look who’s here!!” She then faced me and said, “Oh wait, I can’t see anyone, I might be going blind.” She smirked at me and sweeped her hand in a motion indicating there was nothing there. Christen didn’t defend me. She just laughed with everyone else. I walked away and went to find myself a quiet place to cry.

A few days later, during recess, I sat at the corner of the playground, reading. I was so engrossed in the book, I was absent to the events happening around me. When I looked up from my book, I saw five girls huddled toward me. They all seemed very keen with the expressions on their faces, a lets-get-down-to-business expression. I feebly asked them, “Hey, what’s going on?” All the girls laughed in my face. They all looked at one another.

There was one girl in the group with brown locks and bright blue eyes. I knew that she was in a different class from me. She looked at one of the blonde girls and opened the dam of words which changed the way I perceived myself. “Seriously??”the girls snorted. “What’s going on?” she mimicked in my voice. Everyone laughed at that.

Then another girl took her turn to insult me. “Who do you think you are?” She paused, waiting for my reply.

“Well, I’m Leah Punnoose, and I’m in Ms. Branard’s class.” I said it so quietly. I wasn’t even sure I could hear what I said myself.

“My god, you’re so stupid. No dumbo, who gave you the right to talk to us?” she replied with such a venomous snarl. Her lips curled back. I was terrified at this point. She laughed like a witch.

“Guys, move back, it’s my turn.” I knew that voice. It was the voice that used to comfort me all throughout kindergarten to second grade. It was Christen’s time to tell me what was on her mind. “Leah,” she said with a shake of her head, “what possessed me to be friends with you?”

All the girls cooed back, “Ohhhh…. Burned!!!!”

Christen kept on going, “Oh wait, I know, no one talked to you!” Her hand went up to stifle her giggle, which made me grimace with hurt. At this point, I tried hard to keep the sobs at bay. “You only read. Never talk or care about how you look.”

I croaked back to her, “Why should I care what people think about me?”

“Leah,” she said with a sigh, “You were drowning my reputation. Next to you I am beautiful.” I froze. This girl who used to call me pretty, to my face, just called me ugly. Pain sloshed through my veins and coursed throughout my body. “With your black hair and ugly face, all you need is a pair of glasses to be totally unnoticed.” She had a satisfied smile on her face. “Leah, you are an Indian who is obsessed with bollywood films and reading. I am an Indian that has a beautiful face and reputation, unlike you.”

A different girl came and said, “You can be pretty and join our group of friends, instead of being friendless. All you need to do is comb your hair and put on some decent clothing. Who am I kidding, you’ll just be a fraction of a step from ugly.”

Christen showed her face again and said to me, “Leah, let this be a clean break between us. We were never friends to begin with; I was pretending.” With a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she and her “friends” walked away from me.

I was numb with hurt. I walked up to the teacher and sobbed. I told no one what happened until it happened again. As an eight year old, to hear that you’re ugly and worthless was painful and believable.

I was bullied over and over again up until sixth grade. I went to the peaceful school library to find books. As I was talking to the librarian, I noticed that the football players entered the library. The whole atmosphere around me changed. The football players who entered the library were the same kids that took advantage of me. I started to panic. I walked into the non-fiction section, thinking that they won't come near this area. Like always, luck was never on my side. I started to hear them coming closer to where I was hiding. Thinking through sheer panic, I turned my back on them. I took a random book from the shelf next to me and pretended to read it. I heard them come closer and closer. My heart was pounding; I prayed that they didn't spot me. They finally passed where I was hiding. I released a breath, which I didn’t realize I was holding in. I turned back around, heading out to the non-fiction section of the library. As I turned into the fantasy-fiction section, I heard chuckles.

“So, this is what you read. You’re such a wimp.” I kept my back to them as they insulted me. “You’re such a weirdo, and we thought you were better than this!” They started to laugh.

I heard enough of these insults; now it means nothing to me. They persistently taunted me, and finally I had enough. Facing them I had a surge of pride. “Okay,” I said to them, “I get it. You guys think I’m a useless idiot who isn’t cool and never will be cool. Guess what? I don’t care!”

Most girls thought these guys were handsome. Two of the guys had sharp blue eyes with wavy blond hair. The other three had misty gray eyes with curly brown hair. Just because they played football made them the most popular kids in school. I stared back at them as their faces smirked back at me.

Liam, one of the blond haired guys, bumped into me as I was walking away. “Do you think you can have any friends after talking to us like that? You are an idiot who doesn’t deserve friends.” My friend, Parker, was standing behind me watching what was happening between the football players and me. After hearing what Liam said, Parker came and saved me from those egocentric jerks. 

He told them to back off and that they had serious issues. He didn’t have to do what he did. I started talking to him more. I would stop him in the halls and have conversations with him. I started talking to him in class. Soon we got to the stage where we both stopped each other and caught up. He invited me to sit with him and his friends. They greeted me with open arms and such warmth. Such warmth that I hadn’t felt since second grade. They would joke around and act like the nasty boys they were.  He and his friends helped me to be who I am today and not care what the outsiders think. Whenever they saw me, they would say, “Hey, Beautiful.” These tiny actions started making me more comfortable in my own skin.They always stood up for me no matter the situation. Their actions and acceptance of me allowed me to grow in self-esteem and self-confidence.  Parker always kept a smile on my face, even when I felt terrible. He would say tiny things like, “You look amazing today!” and, “You have a beautiful smile.” They taught me to embrace who I am and be proud to be me.

All it takes is one hurtful word to change the mindset of a person. I’m still self-conscious, but I don’t put up with bullies anymore. Friends should be people that encourage you to excel, not encourage you to change and be like them. I learned that you shouldn’t let other people’s words get to you. You should be yourself and shine like a brilliant star, because we all are stars in our own incredible ways.

-Leah Punnoose