I stood there, shivering in the wind for a few moments, no clue what to do with myself. I pulled my clothes back on and went home. I never said anything, though Jamie still threatened me. In one fell swoop I'd lost the friend I'd had. Putting up with the primary school became considerable harder. I concentrated on class, not wanting to think about what had happened. I got into more fights than ever before, to the extent I spent most lunchtimes in a classroom in isolation. The teachers didn't bother trying to find out why I was acting out, figuring I was just being a bad child as always. Maybe if they had bothered to ask things would've been picked up sooner. Instead I spent months turning over the memory.
I stayed in the house, scared to go outside and run into Jamie. Me and my brother grew closer though, playing various silly games of lego. My imagination went nuts at this time, speeding me away to other worlds. I dreamed up perfect characters who would never hurt me. I listened to music and wasted hours writing poems and just lying on my bed thinking about my other worlds. I wished I could run away to them and not deal with the real world. Something I'm sure most of you can understand.
Despite the troubles in school I did well in my exams and for my last term moved up an English class. I struggled in it, somehow the change just completely threw me off. I'd thought I'd gotten used to it quite well. The people in this class were the ones who'd never spoken to me. They continued this, ignoring me despite my attempts at conversation. There was a school trip and while it was fun to see the museums and learn things. I hated the hotel and having to share a room with two girls who held no sympathy for my plight with the bullies. The two were close friends and had been bullied from day one themselves. They were harsh to me, telling me I made it worse by myself. To just ignore them. I'd heard similar words before, but the abrupt manner with which they delivered them shook me. After that I stopped fighting and actually ignored them. Most got bored and left me alone after a few weeks. But I never left the school with an actual friend, just people who had been slightly nicer.
A few months had passed since Jamie had assaulted me. I'd worked up the courage to leave the house and play with the others in the park. The bullies came into the park and people escaped back home quickly. I didn't manage it. They cornered me near the park entrance, trapping me between wooden fences and trees. The similarity to before was such I burst into tears. They sneered at me, throwing insults like 'slut' and 'whore'. I had no clue what they meant at the time. Then I heard one of them mention Jamie and I actually screamed at them to leave me alone. This took them by surprise. The head bully then told me just what Jamie had been spreading around the barracks. He made it out like I'd come to him and he'd had to turn me down. Why did the bullies believe him when I was just eleven? I have zero clue, I guess they were just really dumb. I told them everything, hiccuping and fighting fresh waves of tears as I did. They're expressions grew serious and the head bully took my hand and led me back home with his friends. They spoke to my mum at the door, repeating what I'd told them. She thanked them quietly and took me into the living room. She asked me to give her my side of the story. I repeated what I could before the crying became too much. I fell asleep in her arms. The next day she gave no indication that yesterday had happened.
A police women showed up around midday, the bullies had called them and said what had happened. She asked me questions but I didn't understand what had actually happened enough. She repeated what the bullies had said and I just nodded silently. I figured they knew what they were talking about. They'd embellished my story big time, since they hated Jamie so much. The policewomen knew this, it made the chances of a solid case small. So Jamie wasn't charged. A mark was placed on his record. The army moved his family somewhere else and just our immediate families and the bullies knew what had happened. Years later I got angry, it felt like the whole affair had been brushed under the rug and ignored. My mum told me they didn't press charged because they wanted me to have a normal adolescence. If something had been done then people would know about it when I started at secondary school. The memory would've followed me. It did anyway, the only difference was no one else knew it. A doctor said I would forget in time, they were wrong.