As I got out of bed one cold winters morning and looked into the mirror, I was greeted by the horrible sight of blood red, tear stained cheeks which belonged to a once beautiful and confident girl – myself. While looking at myself in the mirror, memories of the harsh names that were given to me by people I didn’t even know kept circling through my mind. My emotions from a year of verbal abuse started coming back and hitting me like a sledge hammer and I couldn’t help but scream out of anger. I felt so embarrassed at the fact that I was not able to stand up for myself and I eventually felt a tear roll down my cheek. I closed my eyes and the memories of what happened a few years ago started playing through my mind like a film. It was the 14th of January 2014 and it was my first day at my new school. I walked in confidently and was super excited to start a new chapter of my life and meet new people. Unfortunately, the reality did not live up to my expectation as I was totally oblivious to the transformation that coming to this school would have on my life. For a whole year, the only thing that woke me up was a little bit of hope. Hope that one day all this hurt will come to an end, but instead it just became worse. “Ugly” soon became “nobody will ever love you” and this made me doubt whether my family really loved me. I started hating going home because I thought I was not loved at home and I hated school because everywhere I went, bullies where like shadows that were always following me, looking out for every opportunity to use their merciless powers to break my already broken smile even more, and even though these torments were never physical, the emotional scars they made were deeper than any cut. I couldn’t bare the feeling of worthlessness. I would go home every day, run to my bedroom, shut the door and get into bed and cry until I fell off to sleep. Then one day when I got to school, I overheard a group of boys whispering, in an almost canard type of way about a group of girls who got expelled. I was eager to find out which group of girls it was, but at the same time was to afraid to ask anyone about it because I lived in constant fear that the words might become physical. Soon I realized that the group of girls who were expelled were the same girls who tormented me every single day. I remember the sigh of relief that went through my body as if it was just yesterday. I now realize that a bully surely does not need a fist, because that group of bullies used words far more dangerous than any blade or fist. Words that were sharp enough to pierce my confidence. They were bitter, vile words that mentally made me go insane and destroyed every piece of happiness that was ever inside me.