English Essay Creative Writing – Bullying

English Writing Dear Diary I am stand al wholeness in a lake. The water is belt up, and at that place is no one with me nothing containing any life and yet I still come up like something is observing me. I cant hear anything or see through the thick blanket of fog that carries an air of sad across the marsh. I am standing alone in a lake. Until I open my nubs. Tranquillity leaves me and I am transported to a mark where there is no adequation where hierarchy takes over and all beings abide by it. If you enter this place and you begin the journey deficiently, you will never be accepted into this complex community they call school.Date I gasped for air among sobs. Tears from my wide, moistened eyes streamed unchecked down my pale cheeks. The tears tasted briny to my lips, with a meaning tint of bitterness in them bitterness that I felt and enjoin to the new(prenominal)s for putting me in such a root and pitiful condition as I was in that twenty-four hour period or always, f or that matter. Tears blinded my eyes as a reinvigorated tide of despair swept me. A muffled groan of grief arose in my throat, and my head throbbed with pain. But I kept silent, because I had learned to do so now.The way I have learnt to adjust to my surroundings in this alien, hostile school, and had learnt to accept countless jeers and merciless teasing from the people about me. I sat staring deeply at the engraved graffiti, severally letter giving a fierce image. Must die. They had warned it was sacking to be bad, although I never expected this. I never was a strong person. If only I had the courage to stand up and haul this. Date My spirit broke with the dawn. I opened my eyes to a new day full of potential nonetheless, the desolation of yesterday was still lodged within the thought of facing another day was abhorrent to me.I yearned for the day when I could leap out into the world with a beaming grinning spread wide across my glowing face, prepared for what opportunitie s the day would offer. Regrettably, there would be no such energy for me today, or any other day for that matter. This day, just as any other, I tore myself extraneous from the only place on earth I could feel marginally safe, to trudge to the haunt of my tormentors. I knew without a single doubt that there was not even a semblance of the most miniscule of smiles on my face but that I did, in fact, bear the dejected facial gesture of a prisoner as he ambles towards the gallows.Scuttling innocently through the twisty corridors I bore the same expression head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding any eye contact my desperate attempts to deter the despot for one day at least. Despite my efforts, there was no escape, as seemingly within the southward of having that naively optimistic thought, a cruel, callous voice demanded I drive home my broach. Fear spiked, as it always did, but with it came something else, an alien emotion facial expression back now, I see that it must have been the cumulative pith of months of torment that brought me to the realisation that at this point I had reached the nadir of my life.Deriding cackles punctured my ears and this time I recognised the emotion, fury. It burned through my veins, along with the memories of the bypast to form a feeling of overwhelming power. I met the daggers that would usually name terror, and calmly, I said No. Date With my newfound sense of value the desire to exact some kind of revenge for being so subjugated was inexplicably tempting. Though some say that by forgiving we create virtuous, was it not Shakespeare himself who said, If you wrong us, shall we not revenge?