Welcome To The Broken Rose
The Beginning
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know why I’m writing this damn thing. But I guess all stories need a beginning. So that’s where I’m going to start. My name is Rose, I hate it, but I’ve managed to live with it for the 14 years I’ve been alive. The name means ‘rose’ but I don’t understand how it suits me. I don’t understand anything anymore. But I haven’t told you my full name yet. Rose Petals. My parents thought it would be funny to make my name comic. They must’ve forgotten its my life they were playing with.
I suffer from depression, I have done for a long time now. It has been building up without anyone realising, but it started with a long chain of events when I was younger. It mainly started when I was bullied at school. If you looked at me you wouldn’t think I would’ve gotten bullied. But that was the reason. I had long blonde/brown hair, and deep blue eyes. I wore makeup and I thought I should’ve been the most popular girl in school. In actual fact, everyone took the piss. They all told me that I was in love with myself, and the older kids called me a chav*. I didn’t know what it meant, but it hurt. Now I know what it means, and I can hardly live with myself for it.
In year 5 my attitude got worse and so did the bullying. I started to talk weirdly, and dress like a boy. I wore baseball caps, and tracksuit bottoms. I didn’t see what was wrong with it, but everyone else did. I had no friends, and after a while everyone left me alone. That was until a new person arrived at the school. His name was Daniel. I walked into the classroom before school, and I heard my name being mentioned. When everyone saw me walk through the door it all went silent. Then this person shouted “Look! I’m so cool I’m the top of the school, I’m so popular. With my white trainers and my tank top” Everyone laughed. I even made a fake laugh. They carried on talking about me, until I had had enough. I picked up my bags, and walked out of the room. Daniel decided to follow me.
In the corridor he shouted after me. “Rose. Where are you going? We were only joking. Innit!”
“Look! I’ve had enough of you taking the piss of me. It was all quiet until you came along. Danielle!” This hit him hard. He ran up to me, grabbed my bag and demanded I told him what I called him. “I called you Danielle. Why? Got a problem loser?” After saying this, he pushed me up against a wall. I went silent with fear, being pinned up against the wall. My legs weren’t even on the ground. He didn’t say anything now. He punched me square in the stomach twice, slapped me, and then picked me up and carried me over to his locker.
“Your gonna regret this bitch” He snarled, and folded my legs between my chin. He then squeezed me into his locker and slammed it shut. I didn’t get out until later when the cleaner heard sobbing. I ran home and locked myself in my room after that. However when my parents found out I was forced to change schools. And attitude.
I suffer from depression, I have done for a long time now. It has been building up without anyone realising, but it started with a long chain of events when I was younger. It mainly started when I was bullied at school. If you looked at me you wouldn’t think I would’ve gotten bullied. But that was the reason. I had long blonde/brown hair, and deep blue eyes. I wore makeup and I thought I should’ve been the most popular girl in school. In actual fact, everyone took the piss. They all told me that I was in love with myself, and the older kids called me a chav*. I didn’t know what it meant, but it hurt. Now I know what it means, and I can hardly live with myself for it.
In year 5 my attitude got worse and so did the bullying. I started to talk weirdly, and dress like a boy. I wore baseball caps, and tracksuit bottoms. I didn’t see what was wrong with it, but everyone else did. I had no friends, and after a while everyone left me alone. That was until a new person arrived at the school. His name was Daniel. I walked into the classroom before school, and I heard my name being mentioned. When everyone saw me walk through the door it all went silent. Then this person shouted “Look! I’m so cool I’m the top of the school, I’m so popular. With my white trainers and my tank top” Everyone laughed. I even made a fake laugh. They carried on talking about me, until I had had enough. I picked up my bags, and walked out of the room. Daniel decided to follow me.
In the corridor he shouted after me. “Rose. Where are you going? We were only joking. Innit!”
“Look! I’ve had enough of you taking the piss of me. It was all quiet until you came along. Danielle!” This hit him hard. He ran up to me, grabbed my bag and demanded I told him what I called him. “I called you Danielle. Why? Got a problem loser?” After saying this, he pushed me up against a wall. I went silent with fear, being pinned up against the wall. My legs weren’t even on the ground. He didn’t say anything now. He punched me square in the stomach twice, slapped me, and then picked me up and carried me over to his locker.
“Your gonna regret this bitch” He snarled, and folded my legs between my chin. He then squeezed me into his locker and slammed it shut. I didn’t get out until later when the cleaner heard sobbing. I ran home and locked myself in my room after that. However when my parents found out I was forced to change schools. And attitude.
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* ChavSlang term in the UK for a subcultural stereotype fixated on fashions such as gold jewellery and ‘designer’ clothing. They are generally considered to have no respect for society, and be ignorant or unintelligent. The term appeared in mainstream dictionaries in 2005. The features of this stereotype include the Burberry pattern and from a variety of other casual and sportswear brands. Tracksuits, hoodies, sweatpants and baseball caps are particularly associated with this stereotype. The term has also been associated with delinquency, the “ASBO Generation”, “Hoodie culture” and “yob culture.”. Chavs are often stereotyped as being particularly anti-emo and anti-Goth, two other subcultural groups.
