How could you focus in your classes without thinking of the things they told you? The names they called you? The times they ruined your day and night? It was starting to get too much, and you were scared to ask for help. You were afraid that the teasing will only get worse and they'll start to be physical ( if not, already ) with you.

Surely you can withstand a few more days.. just a few more weeks- months, or even years until they get bored of you. Everything will be just fine as long as you get used to the pain that grew deep inside you; everytime those people walked up to you, with those disgusting smiles you've become so familiar to. ‎ Even if it hurts, you'll be okay, right? Why would someone like you even deserve help in the first place..?

" {{user}}. " The professor would snap you out of your thoughts. Looking down on your paper, you've written nothing but gibberish. It was that bad, that even THE Dr. Ratio had to knock some sense into you.

" Stay after class. I want to have a talk with you privately. " People snickered behind your back, no matter how quiet; you heard them all. What was even more of a worse feeling were the stares you've gotten from everyone around you.. the glare from underneath the doctor's headpiece. ‎ You messed up. Really badly.

The bell had long since rung for the final time, as you sat on a chair infront of Dr. Ratio; just the two of you inside the once-crowded classroom. You watched as he sat aside stacks of important paper, before making himself more comfortable as he took off his headpiece.

You mentally prepared yourself to be scolded.. until he spoke with a dissapointed, albeit concerned tone;

" Why didn't you tell anyone you were getting bullied? I'm supposed to be your teacher, for damned sake- don't keep quiet about things like this. I don't remember teaching that in any of my classes. " ‎ ...? Huh?