Bullying - A short story by Amritha Suresh

Jazzy Short

                                            By:Amritha Suresh

Have you ever been bullied? I have. I, Jazzy Short has been bullied. I know what you’re thinking - Jazzy Short? What kind of a name is that? I know. And in case you are wondering I am short, very short in fact I am 4’4. I got bullied for that. Do you want to know how?

Here is the story of the time I got bullied: It all started on the first day at my new school. I was really nervous considering I was home-schooled my whole life. I was waiting at the bus stop, when a girl with long brown hair walked up to me, “Hi !, I am Ida B., What’s your name?” she said gleefully. “Jazzy Short” I replied. She snickered “OMG! Everyone!” Ida B shouted. “This girls name is Jazzy Short!” “Who? The tiny kid” said a blonde boy about 10 feet away from us. His voice was hoarse and sad as if he had just gotten a sore throat a soon as he heard my name.

He stepped up to me and I got a really good look at him. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and an ugly nose. “Jazzy Short?” His voice didn’t sound hoarse anymore, it sounded kind of like a wrestler’s voice except more clear and smooth. “Your parents must’ve hated you! Freakazoid!”  And walked off. # Rude.

About 5 minutes later the bus came. I swung my teal backpack over my shoulder and stepped on. On the bus I met a girl, she was tall, (like 4’10-ish) and she had long curly red hair and black-rimmed glasses. The top half of her hair was tied up and the bottom laying loosely over her shoulders. She wore a light pink collared polo shirt and a jean skirt that was about 2 inches above her knees. She looked really nice, so I sat down next to her. “Hi! I’m Jazzy.” I said (not telling her my last name on purpose.) “Hi!” she replied back “My name is Abigail, but you can call me Abby”.”Okay,” I said. The guy who called my short began tugging at my braid.” Stop it Rob” said Abby not even looking back. That must be his name! I thought. And Rob reluctantly let go. “Fine!” “two freakazoids being friends, makes sense he muttered. Excuse me? Abby asked OOOOOH said a girl with strawberry red curls. Shut up steamboat said Rob not taking his eyes off of Abby. The bus driver looked through her mirror “what is going on back there?” she asked? Nothing Ms.Lebby.

When we got to the school I quietly admired it. The school was about 40 ft. tall and had a big banner hanging from the roof that said WELCOME BACK TO GWC SCHOOL! “What does the GWC stands for?” I asked Abby “George Washington Carver” she replied. We both stepped off the bus.” I need to go to the principal’s office. Do you know where it is?” I asked. “Yeah”, she replied. “Go to the back of the school, and there will be a big red door. Open that up, and you’ll be in the principal’s office.”. “Thanks, Abby”. “You’re welcome” She replied and I walked to the back door of the school. I’ve never been to a school before and I assumed it would be like the ones I see on comic books or T.V. bad food, evil principals, loads of homework. But this place seemed way different. It smelled like a new house and the principal didn’t look evil at all.

The principal had a phone in between her ear and her shoulder. She was scribbling cursive rapidly onto a mini-spiral notebook. When she saw me, she hung up the phone and sat down. She motioned for me to do the same. “Hello, my name is Mrs.Smith and you must be Jazzy.” She said as she extended her hand over her desk. “Yeah” I said shaking it. She reached into her purse and pulled out a big envelope with my name printed on it in big black letters. In here is the name of your teacher, your class number, your student ID, and some forms you should tell your mom and dad to fill out, okay?” “ O.k,” I said. I slowly flipped the braid over my shoulder as I walked out the door I opened the envelope and read the cursive words carefully:

In my new classroom there was only 1 desk left. It was in front of Abby, but next to Rob. I quietly sat down, putting my teal backpack on the back of my chair. “Hello class,” said my teacher. “My name is Mr. Lupine ” Mr. Lupine had dark brown hair, styled with bangs about half an inch over his eyebrows. He also had a brown mustache and dark eyes. He was wearing a long-sleeved button-down striped with faded blue and white, paired with a pair of bootcut jeans. “Our first subject is art, so can you all please get a red notebook from the back of the room? “As soon as I got my notebook I looked up at the board and it said: ART: DRAW A SELF-PORTRAIT WHEN FINISHED, WRITE DOWN 3 INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT YOURSELF. So, I tore out a page in my notebook and began to draw.

I drew me so that I look tall and confident. Rob stretched his head over to my desk. Ha! He said once he saw my drawing. In your dreams! You don’t actually think you look like that do you? No. I muttered. And I crumpled my drawing and did a new one. In this one I drew myself as the short little weirdo I was trying to avoid telling myself I was. “That’s more like It.” for my facts I scribbled down

1. I was homeschooled my whole life

2. I have a chihuahua and golden retriever mix named Cosmo

3. Mom was once the mayor of Sioux town

 “Liar,” Rob said.   “Rob,” said Mr. Lupine you cannot talk so loudly, only a whisper is necessary.

Abby silently watched. Why isn't Abby sticking up for me I wondered? Is she even a true friend? This thought pounded in my head so much. What the heck? She stood up for me on the bus, is she too embarrassed to be seen with me now? She looked so nice, did I just judge a book by her cover? I couldn’t take it anymore and I didn’t sit with Abby on the bus. I sat with my little sister, Jade. Unlike me, Jade is really tall. She is only a 1st grader but she is already 4 feet.

I did the same thing the next morning. But then Abby came up to me. “Why are you avoiding me”? She asked. W-What are you talking ab-about? I said staring at my converse. Abby crossed her arms and scoffed. “Fine,” I said. You knew Rob was teasing me, you were there! “Well in my defense-” began Abby” No” I interrupted. You didn’t have my back. Friends have each other’s backs. And since you didn’t have my back I guess we aren’t friends. “Wha-” Abby hesitated “Fine,” She said putting her hands at her hips. “I don’t need you!” “Have a nice life.” And sashayed away. I buried my face in my backpack. What did I just do? I thought. I thought going to a real school would help me make some friends, but so far it was having the opposite effect.

That day Rob said really nasty stuff like “Only 6th graders can go on this playground. Wait you're not a sixth-grader? Whoopsie! And during recess, he put an ant on my finger and said do you wanna know what this guy said about you? What a shrub. “HAH!” And at lunch, he said: Don’t waste your money buying milk,it obviously hasn’t been working. And so on. He was really getting on my nerves.

While I was getting ready for school the next day I said in the mirror, “ I will tell on Rob today” So I put on some high, high heels and the black floral dress that made me look like a 9th grader. As I wobbled down the stairs my sister said “Who died” And skipped away. For breakfast I gulped down a strawberry milkshake and strutted out the door, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

Everybody at the bus stop staring at me. It is not a picture day, isn’t it? asked a girl named Piper. She sat 2 desks in front of me in Mr.Lupine’s class. She had strawberry blonde curls and was super hyper. The way I remembered her name was, Hyper Piper. No, it isn't, I told her. On the bus I sat with Piper. Hoping she could be my new friend. Abby couldn’t look at me without bursting into giggles for some reason. Is she planning something I thought? 

When we reached the school, I tried to look as casual as I could n’ for 2 reasons: 1: so nobody would judge that I was wearing a dress and 2: so nobody would know I was wearing heels. When I got to my classroom, Mr. Lupine was standing at the door his foot tapping and arms crossed.  “Hi, Mr. Lupine,” I said. “Jazzy, can we step into the hall for a moment?” he asked Me.” sure I replied.”

In the hall, I saw Abby and Rob. Oh my gosh! I thought, is this it? “Yes,” said Abby as if she was reading my mind. “Jazzy,” said Mr. Lupine in a firm tone “Has Rob tease, no bullying you?” I hesitated. Ever since Rob began picking on me I have wanted to rat him out. But now that it was actually happening, I was a little, no-way scared. “Uhh-umm-aaa” I muttered “Yes! he has been bullying her!” exclaimed Abby.” No no no” said Mr.Lupine waving his finger “I was talking to Jazzy”. “Yes,” I whispered, “he has.” “Okay”, said Mr.Lupine “Do you know why?” Mr.Lupine asked, “Because I am shriffhyre”. Pardon me, said Mr Lupine. Because of my last name! I yelled oh! said Mr.Lupine. That’s the case. Well, Rob, I will talk to you later and Abby thank you for telling me but I would like to have a little chat with Jazzy.

Abby and Rob walked into the classroom. Jazzy, said Mr.Lupine. Can I tell you a little secret? He asked kneeling down so his head was even with mine. When I was about your age, the same thing happened to me. Really! I asked not buying it. Don’t lie to me I have seen your’s first name and last name on your school name tag, you have no idea what I’m going through. Jonh Lupie What’s wrong with that I asked. Well, began Mr.Lupine,  I did get bullied, but not because of my name. Why did you get bullied then?(by the serious look on his face I knew he wasn’t joking. I mean seriously that guy looked as if someone had killed his puppy!) I got bullied because when I was a child I had a stammering issue. On the inside I was so furious I wanted to get up and scream at him and say you don’t have to lie to make me feel good I don’t need you to pity me alright you know I have parents who can make me feel better without lying to me.

Even though I had been acting super rude I had enough sense not to go completely ballistic on him so I just said. ”Well, how come you are not stammering now, huh or was that a lie? “Jazzy, I got over my problem and I swear I have been in your shoes. You shouldn’t care much about this issue. I will talk to Rob but if he or anyone continues, you have to tell a teacher or parent so we can make sure it doesn’t continue. Okay, he said. Okay, I replied.

Deep down inside I was happy like crazy He will stop! I thought. No more Rob!  Most of all I was happy because Abby had stood up for me. I wanted to give her a big hug and apologize for calling her a bad friend. But, I had a whole school day before I could actually talk to Abby without getting scolded by Mr.Lupine. On the bus that day, I rushed to sit with Abby. “Abby I am so sorry, you stuck up for me even when I was so mean to you”. Its okay said Abby, I wasn’t being very nice either I knew Rob was bullying you, I was just a little too scared to tell a teacher. It’s okay. And to be honest, I said. “I think I only expected you to do it because I wasn’t confident enough to do it myself.”

On the bus the next day, I saw Rob picking on a plump 4th-grade boy with a blue minion shirt and a mushroom haircut named Ronnie. “Hi fatso,” Rob said, “What did you eat for breakfast, Concrete?”” No” said Ronnie crossing his arms and pouting. Omg, I thought.  He’s like me, Rob bullied him and-and I’m the bystander, I need to fix this. So I walked up to Rob and looked at him right in the eye. “Why do you do this? “ I asked. “Just because you think something’s wrong with us because of how we look, we won’t get upset about that, because we know that we are good people and it doesn’t matter how we look. It matters how we act and think! Wow-uh-um stammered Rob. I never really thought about it like that. I-I guess You’re right, sorry Ronnie he said shaking Ronnie’s hand. You're a smart boy and I’m sorry for being so presumptuous with you. “It’s okay said Ronnie. And Jazzy, I really admire you. “You stood up for Ronnie even though you were probably scared to death, but you didn’t want to be a bystander” and walked away.

That’s the story of the time I got bullied. I hope you enjoyed it. And remember if you are being bullied or constantly teased please tell a teacher or an adult.

                                                                    With love,

                                                                              Jazzy Short