It was always on the back of my mind, the cruel words, the tears I held back for so long. Their words were like bullets, stuck under my skin. Their eyes, always watching me, always staring. I had grown up with them, since the first grade. They think they know me, but they dont. They think they can assume things, things that aren't true.
   

The lavish green leaves, still stapled to the trees, they blew in the wind. The light airy breeze, almost seemed welcoming, almost. The tan building came into view, the place that made me cringe. We pulled up in front, in front of the dreaded place. I closed my eyes. The light breeze picked back up, blowing my long wavy brown hair. My eyes fluttered back open. My hand searched for my necklace, I found it. I held on to the charm, tracing the star, The Star Of David. The girl who sat next to me fidgeted. She tapped her foot, over and over again. She gnawed on her limp, curly, brown hair. She was little, maybe a fourth grader. She was in a whole new world now. The large woman, with snowy white hair, who drove the bus dismissed us. I jumped up. Walking off the bus, I remember seeing the doors wide open, the doors that led to the 6th grade. I kept my head low, eager to leave this place.
    

Sitting down, at my desk. The first seat, in the first row, next to the old radio. My teacher, an older man, was sitting at his desk, towards the back of the classroom. His desk was next to a podium. I looked around, searching for my friends. I found them. One, tall and blonde, who played the cello in the orchestra, along with her friend the short and blonde one, who played the bass in the orchestra. I for one, play the violin in the orchestra.

Bustling talking, to catch up from the summer, started up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a short, skinny, blonde girl, with glasses. I walked up to her. “Hi,” I waved my hand. She looked up at me and smiled “Hi,” she responded. “Are you new here?” I asked her. “Yea,” she looked down. I sat down at the desk in front of her, and turned around. “Where are you from?” I asked the smart looking girl. “Bangor,” she replied. I nodded my head with a smile. “What is your name?” I asked. “Just call me Maddy,” she smiled. I nodded my head, “Okay,” I responded. “What’s your name?” She turned her head slightly. “Sarah,” I grinned. “Nice to meet you,” Maddy smiled back. We showed each other our schedules, we were in every class together. We made chit chat for a while, until I had to show her where our first period class was, math class. Walking to the orange curtains, that enclosed every class, Jonas, the leader of my bullies, knocked my books out of my hand. “opps, sorry jew,” he gave me a devilish grin. I bent down to pick it up, Maddy rushed over to help. “That was mean,” She stood back up, handing me the books. “Yea, now come on, we’ll be late,” we rushed to class.
   

In math, I sat in the third seat from the back. Next to me was a good friend of mine, Nate, we smiled at each other. We chit chatted about how Jonas knocked the books out of my hand. “I can’t believe he would do that!” Nate exclaimed. “Yea, I know,” I slid down in my seat. “Hey, I’m always here to talk,” I smiled at him. Soon the teacher, a medium height woman with short blonde hair, started to teach. Sitting there, I took notes. Out of the corner of my eyes, I caught Maddy looking at me, I smiled, she smiled back.
   

After, we had lunch, I sat with Nate. We talked, but then Jonas and his posse, of the other bullies (Sven, Brady, George, Keith, Hayden) came to sit down. “What’s up, jew,” they all said in unison. “The sky,” I replied. “Shut up,” Jonas said as he sat across from me. I rolled my eyes. “So are you like Mr. Krabs? You know, from Spongebob?” Jonas curled his lips into a grin. “Yea? Money money money!” Keith rubbed his fingers together, as in asking for money. I laughed with them, blinking my eyes to hold back tears. “Is that the jewish star?” Brady pointed to the charm on my necklace. “Yea? What about it?” I looked up. “It’s called the Star Of David!” Jonas laughed. “I must be Important!” he stopped laughing, getting serious. I hunched my back, chewing my food. “BWEOOO!” The whistle blew. We were finally dismissed, I was never happier to get away from food.
    

The boring autumn day dragged on,when we went to arts. I felt a cold smooth board on my face. “What are you doing here jew?” I recognized the nasal sound of Jonas’s voice. “Money money money!” I heard Keith yell. I realized that I was smashed against the lockers, my books scattered everywhere. “Is everything okay?” Another teacher said. I looked towards her, she looked young, with blue eyes and brown hair. Jonas and his posse immediately helped pick up the books. “Yes, just helping Sarah pick up her books.” Jonas smiled at the teacher. “Okay,” the teacher went back into her classroom. “That was close you dirty jew, don’t let me get close to getting caught again,” Jonas gave me a final shove, before the posse and him turned and left. I stood there, breathing in and out, heavily.  I ran to class.
  

I was late.
  

“Where were you?” The music teacher asked. “I-uh-I had to-uh...talk with my teacher?” I stammered. She eyed me, and beckoned me to sit down. Class went well, but Sven kept eyeing me, giving me the “money money money” finger rub. Soon it was over. Over with the teachers lectures, and over with the hurtful glares.
   

The orange and gold blurred together, sleeping on branches. The green lavish grass, blew in the breeze. “Thump, thump,” my feet hit the ground in a rhythm. Chocolate brown covered my view, scratching my face. The breeze picked up, suddenly it stopped. My hair lay limp at my shoulders. I still had the brisk cold air in my mouth and throat. “Thumplump, thumplump,” I trudged up the porch. “Creeeeak!” The blue front door whimpered. “How was your day?” I heard a voice from the kitchen. “It was fine,” I threw off my shoes, and hung up my coat. “Where the bullies mean to you?” The voice appeared again, I recognized it as my step-mom, Jamie. I broke down in tears. “Dear! Are you all right?!” Jamie rushed over. “I-I-I can’t take it,” I cried between sobs. “What did they do?” She kindly asked. “T-th-they pushed me, a-an-and shoved me, and called me j-j-JEW!” I collapsed on the floor, face buried in my palms. “Shhh...it’s okay,” She soothed me. My sobs got quieter, to a small whimper. Jamie went over to our silver and black computer. “W-wh-what are you doing?” I rubbed my hand over my eye, drying my tears. “You’ll see,” her eyes glued to the screen. My hands met the cool, oak, hardwood floor. My legs, shaky and trembling, became straight. My arched back, straightened. Putting all of my effort into my legs, to make them move, I made my way to Jamie. “Done,” she looked over at me. “What were you doing?” I asked. “Writing an email, to your assistant principal.” She clamped her hands together. “Wh-why?” My throat, closed and dry, prevented me from breathing. “To tell him to stop the bullying,” She smiled. “Okay…”My voice trailed off.
   

Cold, slippery, gray leather seats, I could feel, holding me in a seated position. Trees and the grass, blurred together, as I stare out the backseat window. The tan and gray school, came into view. “Here we go again,” I thought to myself.
  

The older teacher, my homeroom teacher, stood before us, talking about the Great Depression. “Psst,” someone tapped my shoulder. I looked over. The assistant principal, Mr.Hancock, stood there. He beckoned me to follow him. In silence, I followed him, to an oak colored door. Inside I saw a chocolate colored desk, with a black computer chair, and many flat screens with different views, coming from the security cameras. “Sit,” he pointed to the chair across from his desk. I inched towards it. “So, I heard about the hullabaloo of this, bullying thing,” he took out a notepad and pen. My stomach knotted.  I gave him a blank stare. “What are you being bullied about?” He clicked his pen. “For being Jewish.” He nodded his head at my answer, and wrote it down. “Who is doing this, to you, Sarah?” His gaze met mine. “Jonas, Brady, Brendon, Keith, George, and Hayden.” I looked down at my toes, in my gray UGGs. “Mhmm, mhmm.” He jotted it down. “Now, I understand when people get teased about their hair or clothing, but this is different.” He started. “This is serious. I have no tolerance for the teasing and bullying of something a child can not help, such as this situation.” He looked right at me. “Uh-hu,” I agreed. “Okay, glad we’re on the same page,” he clicked his pen. “Now, tell me what they did.” He fiddled with his pen. “They shove me, push me, knock books out of my hands, call me jew, and go money money money, like I’m Mr.Krabs from Spongebob; they also say that all I care about is money.” My face cringed. He jotted down more notes. “Have you ever talked to someone, here in the school.” He rolled the chair to his computer. “N-n-no,” I stammered. “Alright, here’s what I’m going to do.” He started. I leaned in. “I’m going to talk to these boys. So you can go now, I will get back to you soon.” He smiled at me. I smiled back as I left. “Thank you,” I said under my relieved breathe.
  

Two weeks, two weeks it took for me to be called back down to his office. I wandered down the halls, back to the room. I entered, he gave me a big smile. “It’s nice to see you again.” HIs smiled started to fade. I smiled. “I talked with the boys.” He slightly leaned forward, resting on his forearms. “Yes, and?” I asked. “It took time, but they all admitted. One even cried. Now I’m not allowed to say which one. But, they wrote these.” He handed me some letters. I read them over. “They did these on their own, I have nothing to do with them.” He educated me. “Okay,” I whispered. “Now, they’re not allowed to talk to you, if they do, you come tell me. And they will be in trouble.” He looked right at me. “Okay. Thank you,” I looked up at him with a smile. “My pleasure. Now get back to class.” He smiled back.
   

That was the day, the day I won the war. The war of bullying. The war of crying for hours. And the war of not wanting to go to school. I won. It was a long battle of four years, the tragedy ended in the 6th grade. I have not forgotten the horror. Sometimes at night I still cry. I was wounded with a low self esteem. And now, I thank everyone for being there on the journey, the long road it took me.
      

All I can do is forgive but not forget.