I feel as if I were shackled by my own personality. I'm someone that I can't stand to be at times, like my life would end up a lot better if only I would behave differently; act like someone I'm not. I don't have a very dominant personality. I'm too nice, too submissive. No matter how many times I'm taunted, harassed, or bullied, I just push my thoughts to the side, look down, and continue doing whatever I was doing. I don't tell anyone, even if their making my life a living h*ll, simply because I lack the ability to fight back.

In fourth grade, every recess I played with my friends. Back the I had lots of friends, back when life was a lot more simple. I had one friend in particular, his name was Gabriel I believe, who was one of the more hyper kids in the grade. He didn't fit in with my group of friends, since he was more athletic than our group of nerds. He always seemed like the odd one out, like he was out of place but just stood near us because he didn't know where else to stand.

We always had a bit of a bit of a love-hate relationship, and I could never understand exactly where our friendship stood at any given point. One month he might rat me out for "cheating" on a spelling test because I happened to be reading a book with a spelling word on its cover, which was haphazardly thrown at my feet at the start of the test. Another month he would do really nice things like buy my lunch for me or help me beat a puzzle on my newest game, for example. Looking back, I think it was his was of apologizing for the bad periods. In the fourth grade, after three years of bickering and being indecisive about our friendship, he finally revealed exactly what he thought of me.

Gabriel used to harass me alot, but at the time I thought it was all 'playful.' Even though the words hurt, we both thought he was just kidding around, so he was able to say whatever he wanted to and I just had to take it. I was always too nice, too forgiving, and even though he would sometimes bring me to the point of wanting to tell, my complaints would never reach a teachers ears. I think it was because at the time, I was intimidated by authority. I couldn't really speak to any adult that had an influence on my life, and any adult I told then had an influence on my life. And even though I hated being bullied, I hated being indebted to someone even more.

One day in early March, Gabriel had decided taht he was too cold. Surprising that as active as he was, he was still kind of chubby and needed to borrow a hat. He walked up to me at recess and demanded that I gave him my hat, which was little more than a baseball cap covered in grey wool. Being the nice little pacifist that I am, I allowed him to use my hat. The recess was mostly uneventful, right up until the recess aides announced that there were five minutes left in the recess and that we needed to line up to go inside. I realized that I had given my hat to Gabriel, and I still needed to reclaim it before I forgot about it. I found him playing off in the jungle gym that was in the far corner in the playground. The neon jackets of the recess aides were nearly invisible they were so far away.

I walked over to where Gabriel stood.

"Could I have my hat back? Recess is about to end." I asked politley. He looked around, pretending to not know who I was talking to.

"You mean this hat?" He asked, pointing to the cap on his head. "You gave it to me. You never said I had to give the hat back, so I don't think I will."

"Give me the da*n hat Gabe." I asked once more, a little less politely.

He began to run away, giggling and shouting that I would have to pry the hat from his hands if I wanted it back. But the problem was, I couldn't really run. I had hurt my leg the day before, and while it wasn't broken, it was definitely too sore for me to run. He thought it was a game, but my ears were begining to burn from the cold.

I began to walk away. I knew he had taken it too far at that point. I knew I needed to tell someone if I wanted to get my hat back. I was suddenly tacked from behind and slammed into the ground. I saw the recess aides begining to jog over, but they were too far away to reach me in time. I looked up to see Gabriel on top of me, his weight crushing my stomach with a very sharp stick in his hands.

There was brief struggle, that much I remember, and that I was able to get away nearly unscathed except for a scratch on my waist. Seeing the recess aides approaching, he decided that if he couldn't get away with it, he might as well do as much damage as he could. He began to repeatedly stab my hat and coat, and by the time the aides arrived, my hat was nothing more than a dirty rag. They picked the screaming child off of me, and then one of the aides escorted me to the pricipal's office, where I spat out a report of what happened through my tears. I didn't really care what happened at that point, as long as HE was as far away from me as possible.

I didn't want to be near anyone or do anything. I just wanted to be left alone to think. My trust in people led me to be attacked in someone I tried to be friends with more out of pity than anything else. It also began a series of events that led me into a deep depression that I'm still recovering from today. I think that's one of the major reasons I was, and still am, afraid of who I trust.