Do I hate it or love it?

I looked up at the building, tall and wide. It towered over me, and I looked up at it like I always did, straining me neck. The reddish brick made it look new, but I knew that it was really old. Since...The early 1900's, I think. It was used as a boy’s secondary school, but that was shut down decades ago, so they started a primary school. So I guessed the school was really old, even though it appeared to be quite recent. The ground floor looked new. The first floor looked recent. The second looked slightly older. Then the third floor, which had stopped being used, definitely looked old. It was grey and dusty, and the fact the walls were grey did not help.1

This was the building I loved, the building I'd hated. 2

I loved it because well, I had my best friend there. I shook my head, trying to forget about him. 3

I hated this school, because, well, I was bullied in it. I was so quiet in it. No one really realised why. But it was because people used to laugh at me, take the mickey. Of my size. I used to feel like crying all the time. No, wait. Dying. All the time. I wanted to commit suicide, but I wouldn't allow myself. I told myself, that once I got to secondary school, it'd be so much better. And in a way, it was. But it could never take away the memories of the taunting. I would run into my room, and start crying the second I got home. 4

I don't have any idea how I held up in there, maybe because I was so much younger. By year six, (the last year) I'd started to slit. Deep. I really just wanted my life to end, that there was no way out. But typically, being an optimist, I told myself it'd all get better soon. It never did. Only until I left, of course. 5

I think in those years, I developed depression. I'd cry myself to sleep at night. I'd cry secretly in the girls toilets. I'd take days off school, pretending I was sick. 6

But here's some advice; if your being bullied, don't let them walk over you. Don't let them get away with it. You'll regret, like I do. It makes you weak, a push-over and maybe someone totally different later on in life. I just don't want it to happen to anyone else. 7

Now, I never show I feel. Maybe a side effect? Who knows? Maybe I should hire a therapist to find out. I'm just interested. I don't tell people many secrets. I just keep it inside. Who would have thought that just primary school did this to me? I hate what secondary school is going to do to me in the later years (I am in secondary school now). But I am who I am, because of everyone, I could say.