Maryam Chaudhry, V-E
Bullying is like something rotten—it spreads and spoils everything around it. One day, I realized this myself.
I was sitting quietly at my table, eating my sweet jam-filled sandwich. I took a bite, but somehow it felt rotten, even though nothing was actually wrong with it. All of a sudden, I heard noises.
“Just look at your bag!” said Ali Khan.
“Ahmed! Look at your backpack!” said Faisal.
“Why is ‘Dora the Explorer’ drawn on it?” said Muhammad.
“Why is there a cartoon on it?” said Abdul Rahman.
All the children laughed and pointed at Ahmed, the bullied student.
The air felt suffocating, and I couldn’t breathe properly because of how horrible I felt for him. I decided to stay quiet, but my sandwich started feeling more bitter. The more I ignored justice, the more rotten things got.
One day, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Ahmed’s heart was also starting to rot, since he had bullied another child along with all the other children, yet I still chose not to stand up because of how selfish I was. My sandwich felt even more rotten.
Three weeks later, I stopped bringing my favourite sandwich to lunch. It felt impossible, but I knew I needed change. While eating my pasta, the child Ahmed had bullied came up to me. “Oh hey, is that your hair? How disgusting!”
“Who brings pasta to lunch?” said a student.
Everyone laughed and pointed at me. I saw a tomato in my hand, slowly rotting. I shook my head and stood up. “Stop. Break the chain. Be the chain breaker. Change is needed, but now it’s necessary.”
Everyone gasped at my audacity but didn’t have the right words to argue. It took a while for others to accept their mistake, but the chain broke, and the rotting hearts were finally set free.