What's Wrong?

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Someone asked me. I turned around confused to see an old man with wrinkly skin and a balding head. What he said was more of a demand rather than a question. I didn’t know how to answer. What exactly is wrong with me? 

From what I remember it was a normal day at school, except it wasn’t normal. Today a new student was joining our class. I remember all the girls hoping it was a boy, and all the boys hoping it was a girl. I could not care, I was just excited that I was no longer the one going to get bullied. It is a tradition in our class that whoever is new gets bullied, it was just normal and no one ever questioned. It was now finally my turn to be a part of the group, to be friends with everyone, to finally have people respect me. I felt my heart drop when the kid walked in, no wheeled in I mean. Their body was rigid and tense and their mouth hung open, a little bit of salvia spilling out. Their wheelchair was bigger than most, and it had many things adorning it. I heard everyone gasp and harsh whispers. The teacher introduced them as Addy. Addy had a disorder called cerebral palsy which caused her to be different. The teacher made Addy sit by me. I felt so awkward, I couldn’t help but stare. The class felt like it would never end, the clock seeming to tick slower than usual. 

After some time it was finally lunch, except I was not hungry. My stomach was queasy and couldn’t decide if I was going to throw up or not. I watched as Addy’s aid walked, probably to use the restroom. That is when my heart dropped, even more, I watched as two girls from my class walked up to her. It always started off like that, they are nice to you at first, but then ruthless the next. They seemed to skip the nice part first and went straight to the torture. They “accidentally” spilled Addy’s chocolate milk all over her, leaving her pink shirt stain with a murky brown and making her chair all sticky. The lunchroom erupted in laughter. Although Addy didn’t move or even make a noise, I saw the sadness and confusion in her eyes. 

By the time Addy’s aid was back, the girls had sat back down acting innocent. Later, everyone got interrogated for the act. It was finally my turn to be questioned. I sat in the principal’s office by myself for some time. Leaving me alone to my thoughts. It scared me. I began to feel really hot, I felt the cool sweat drip down my neck and get soaked up by my shirt. The skin that I was picking on my fingers began to tear and my foot was vigorously tapping. “Hey, what is wrong with you?” Someone asked me. I turned around confused to see an old man with wrinkly skin and a balding head. What he said was more of a demand rather than a question. I didn’t know how to answer. “Do you know you spilled, no more like poured the drink on Addy?” I stayed silent. “Are you just gonna sit there and not saying anything?” I continued to sit there. “All you kids are the same, get out.” The man said. I rushed out of the office, only to be stoped by a group of boys. 

“Did you say anything to the principal?”

“No…”

“Good, you’re one of us now.”

I am one of them now.

The next day everyone in class high-five me. They shared snacks with me and actually talked to me. It was nice to not be ignored, to finally be seen. The class was wild and full of laughter, but suddenly it was cut silent from the squeak of Addy's wheelchair. The tension in the hair quickly became thick and suffocating. The teacher left the room and everyone locked eyes on their target. I felt sick.

I watched as everyone huddled around her, watching as she slowly came out of my sight. I heard giggles and harsh words, I sat at my desk, hoping that disassociating would make me feel better. I was pulled out of my safe place with a squeeze of my shoulder. One of the boys yanked me out of my seat by the sleeve of my shirt and dragged me over to Addy.

Since you're one of us now it's your turn. I stared at the girl who had ripped up paper all over her desk, and her once nicely done hair was disheveled. My stomach got queasy again. I felt awful, I didn't want to do this. However, I have been wanting this for so long, to no longer be bullied. I went into her bag that hung on her chair and pulled out her pencils and proceeded to break them all in front of her. I watched as her eyes followed my hands as they snapped each pencil.

The torture was a daily thing, and soon it became easier. Even fun. It was no longer torture, but amusement. I had convinced myself that what I was doing wasn't wrong, that she was actually enjoying herself. I mean, she never said or did anything to stop us. So it must have been okay, right?

The day I finally got caught was awful. I actually wasn't participating in whatever act they were doing to her next, but when the teacher came in with an ear-wenching screech, all the blame was put on me. The school called my parents, and I had to talk to my sobbing mother on the phone. I was punished at school, and at home, all because of what they did to Addy.

I went to school the next day to sit by my friends, only to be shunned away. I went over to the girls who were passing out snacks only to be yelled at and told to go away. It felt like the first day of school all over again, the torment and the horrible harming words. I guess I never did learn.