I don't even want to remember my school days.

From the first to the fifth grade I was a quiet girl, I studied with my brother in the same class, but he is older than me (he has a postpartum injury that prevented him from studying normally). From the first grade, older students bullied him, no one touched me. Then, in the 5th grade, newcomers came to us, 2 guys and 2 girls. We met, but one of them did not like me right away. At first, he and several of his new friends bullied my brother, humiliated him, and when they saw that he did not resist, they moved on to me.

The thing is that oursthe family was very poor, we dressed strangely,Mom couldn't look after us properly, I had pediculosis, which was the reason. I remember how everyone started avoiding me, evenchildhood friend , only weakly asked him to stop, but in fact she was also laughing. I remember how he hit me on the head with several textbooks, how he called me names, how he spat in my food, and when I was given an almost new school bag, he spilled proofreader on it. He did this because test-antibiotic.com I resisted and tried to answer him and his friends.

I remember sitting at home, next to a basin, and pulling out my hair along with the nits. When I got rid of it, nothing stopped, once, in a fit of rage, I stuck a sharp pen into his vein, blood spurted, it was an accident, but I was proud of myself. This lasted until the 10th grade, but what's the irony, guys? In the 9th grade, a boy came to the parallel class who began to make malicious jokes about my tormentor, but I did not feel sorry for him. I always wondered why and why they were amused by my tears, by the fact that I shuddered? I suffered a lot. I could not tell about it at home,the mother could barely make ends meet,my father drank heavily, beat my brother, mother. My childhood, teenagelife was spent in violence.