I
silently stared at the little boy sitting next to me on the
bus. The one they bullied. His eyes were bloodshot red;
he'd been crying.
And all I wanted to do was turn to him and tell him it's
going to be okay. It is
okay.
It's okay, everybody gets
picked on. It's okay, everybody goes through this. It's
okay to cry, it's okay to be hurt. It's okay, it's
okay. You're going to get through it. You're going to
grow up and be amazing. You are amazing. You are strong. You are
better. You are perfect. Don't worry, it'll be over.
Don't worry, there's always light at the end of the
tunnel, no matter how much you think there isn't and how
hopeless you may be. Don't worry. It's okay. You're
okay.
But i didn't. I didn't say a thing. I
kept quiet and shut, and then I got home and had lunch and
showered and wore pjs and forgot.
I regret that everyday because I
never saw him again.
it's a true
story.
