Both Sides of the Front
I hear laughter.
I tense up.
"Nobody likes you."
"You're ugly.
I've heard these words before.
Stupid words
Shallow
But they hurt.
I shake my head. "No."
This happened years ago.
So why am I hearing these voices now?
I look up.
There is a boy- dark hair, slumped over.
Eyes lined with tears.
They're talking to him.
Who is?
My friends.
"Hey," I say, my own eyes tearing up, "Stop it."
They don't hear me. Or they think I'm kidding.They keep teasing, cutting lower and lower blows.
"STOP."
Everyone looks at me.
I swallow. "Don't. People used to talk to me like that."
I stand up.
I walk away.