Satire About Bullying

“Why do you wear that shirt? Those shorts are slutty. You should really kill yourself,” Rude, mean, bullying. Rude, bullying, bullying. Bullying, bullying, bullying. Is this generation too sensitive? Or are we just done taking everyone’s crap. It’s the age-old question, literally. Majority of today’s youth has been told at some point in their life that they’re being too sensitive. But why? We’re told as children that we have to report bullying. Yet somehow every time his words leave my mouth, I’m met with a chorus of teachers and parents saying, “don’t be a tattletale,”. So, I keep my mouth shut. I am five years old and I smile all the time. I am happy, even when he points out the gap between my front teeth. “That’s very ugly, you know? You shouldn’t smile so much,” He says, his sticky finger pointing at my face. I ignore him, but I stop smiling so much. It doesn’t matter though, I also stop wearing my favorite shirt when he calls it a word he had heard his dad say to his mother. His rude words run through my head and all I can think is, does he know what scandalous mean? I’m ten years old when he mocks my hair. It’s too curly, too frizzy. I laugh, because it’s just a joke, right? I straighten my hair now. Slowly, it makes its way into a ponytail that never seems to come down. This would be fine if he wouldn’t taunt my round face, adorned

I won’t, I refuse to. I’d be tattling, right? I’d be called a liar. I probably deserved everything. How come if I speak up I’m called a child? Do people understand that I was born with the disadvantage of being a woman. I’ll be raped by the time I’m twenty. One out of four girls are, and I’m typically that one. It’ll be by him. I won’t tell people. I’m lying. I deserve it. I should just wear pants. I should be smart and not be a “bitch”. I should realize by the catcalls that I attract too much attention. I’m too loud and proud. I’m too opinionated and in control of myself. I’m too much. Now, I’m