This oneshot fanfic is dedicated to Karen Klein, a bus moniter who was bullied to tears by a bunch of middle schoolers.


Bully - a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people.


(Gaara POV)


It hurt. As I sat there, and took it. Words being spat towards me. Full of hate, and humiliation. I gripped my pencil harder, trying to ignore those intimidating stares and words that were aimed my way. "Red-headed freak!" "Fucking faggot!" "Monster!" I was drawing before all of this happened. Even though, it happened every day. I was drawing a picture of a hamster. I love hamsters. They are my favorite animal. So innocent, cute, and defenseless. I have two at home. I wish I was there than at school. How I hated to go to school. I would have to deal with this every single day. When I could be home, feeding treats to my two favorite creatures in the whole world. They never make fun of me. They can't speak words of hatred towards me. All they do is run up to the opening of the cage and greet me happily, awaiting their treats as I pet them. Unconditional love.

Unlike the predicament I am in now. My aquatic eyes look back at one of the people who are crowding me. There were at least three of them, today. "Look at you, you're so ugly. Ugly little bitch!" How could they look me in the eyes and call me such horrible things? What have I ever done to them? My gaze travels down to the picture I am drawing, eyes glazed over in hidden pain. "Aww, what's the matter~? Is the little bitch gonna cry~?" he cooed out hatefully. I did want to cry. Every day I wanted to cry. But I knew that if I did, I would only be fueling the fire to their actions. A tear would slip every so often, but most of the time I could hold it off, until I am back home, or secluded in the bathrooms. Then I would let it all out. I would cry for hours.

Is my life worth living? I have asked that question so many times. I didn't understand why others can be so cruel. I haven't done anything wrong, and I get treated like this? Every day is a struggle to live. If my existence was really important, then why am I constantly being harassed? Tortured with words. A person can't defeat their own loneliness. I learned that the hard way. I have no friends. Perhaps, that is what makes others attract to me. I am venerable. They bring down my own self esteem to raise theirs. They just don't know how much it hurts. If they were put in my shoes, then they would understand. They would know the torment that I go through every time I was called a: bitch, whore, fag, monster… They would understand the pain I go through on a daily basis.

They say that sticks and stones can break your bones but words will never hurt you. I don't know who thought of such a phrase, they, obviously, were never the victim. I would much rather have those sticks and stones break my bones, than having those dreadful words spat at me. Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words will kill you on the inside.

I felt one of them shove at my shoulder, slightly, making me look at them through the corner of my eyes. "What the fuck is this? Your drawings suck dick!" One of them spat, as they gripped my paper and tore it in front of me. They ripped it into little pieces, and threw them on me. Little pieces of paper showered me, as my eyes widened with horror. I felt them all in my hair, and sitting on my shoulders, upper back, and all over my desk. I looked down at the mess, and saw the "eye" of the hamster that I drew facing me. I didn't realize that I was crying until a tear plopped down onto the piece of paper, with the picture of my hamster's eye. I quickly, raised my hand and rubbed at them to try and wipe my tears away, before they could see. But it was too late.

I looked up at them, with unshed, tearful eyes. Silently, begging them to stop and leave me alone. I knew they wouldn't, but maybe they could have a heart, this time, and just leave. "My god you're so goddamn ugly! I don't think I would even let you suck my dick! Faggot!" I lowered my gaze, again, and kept it on my desk, flinching when that last word spoke out. I don't know how much longer I could take this one. I was about to burst out into tears. I could feel them roll down my cheeks unwittingly, as I bit my lip. A soft sob filled the air, as I closed my eyes. "What the fuck? Monsters don't cry! Stop crying you fucking monster!" Once again, they shoved my shoulder, with enough force to move me and my desk over a couple of inches.

I snapped my eyes open, when I felt them take my pencil from my hand. A quick snapping sound was heard, as I turned to look at them. They had broken my pencil in half, and tossed it my way. It hit the side of my head, as it fell to the ground. They laughed wickedly, as I balled my fists and tried to rub more of my tears away. "Look at this stupid mother fucker!" One of them hollered as they all howled in laughter at my distress.

I would ask the teachers for help, but they never do. I tried and they did nothing to stop them. I was hoping I would move seats, or change classes. They did nothing, though. I have no one to rely on, but myself. I could feel my chest constricting in pain, from their words. Their laughter penetrating my self esteem, smothering it into nothing. Their hateful glares, crushing my feelings beyond any hope of repair. My head fell into my hands as I cried softly, hoping they would just leave me be, and let me cry in peace. I knew that my life had no meaning, and I didn't want to live anymore. I am tired of everyone hating me for just being alive. They don't realize how much they can hurt others with their words. They cut deeper than any knife. I just wish it would all just go away…


(Lee's POV)


I couldn't help but to listen to the crowd over in the corner of the room. It wasn't much, around 4 people. They were all saying such hurtful things, aloud, and laughing hysterically. I was currently doing homework. No one would dare to bother me. I am the school athlete. I am the strongest, fastest, and the toughest out of the entire school. People honored, and feared me. I was not the one to mess with.

If I listened carefully, I could hear what sounded like sobbing. Like someone was crying. I finally took a glance back and noticed a hunched over figure within the crowd. He had flaming red hair, and pieces of, what looked like paper littering all over him and his desk. If you looked carefully, you could see his frame shaking and jerking with every sob that echoed through the room. My eyes saddened from the horrible sight. Tears strolled down his pale face, dripping onto his desk. He tried to wipe them away, but there was just too much for his fists to wipe clean. They were making fun of him. Bullies. I remember him. His name is Gaara. He is a new student here at konaha high. I have heard many terrible rumors surrounding that poor boy. That he is gay, which I don't mind personally. I would actually prefer him to be homosexual. Noting, that I am gay, too. I have been out of the closet for about five years and since everyone likes me they didn't take it too hard. Just because I am gay, doesn't mean that I act feminine. I consider myself a dominant, or seme. Only in search for an innocent uke, to call my own. Hopefully, Gaara would be gay so that I could be friends with him. I always thought that he was cute, and would love to go out with him. Only if he is accepting of men, I don't want to convert anyone.

With an anger that I have never felt before in my heart, I stood strait up, and stomped my way over there. "Hey!" One of them turned around to look over at me, not really paying attention. "Yeah? What the fuck do you wa-!" His eyes bulged when he finally realized who he was talking to. "Leave him the fuck alone…" I growled out, angrily. The rest of them looked my way, fear slowly creeping into their senses. Until, one of them suddenly became cocky and stood up. "Oh yeah? And what, the fuck, are you going to do about it! Huh? Little bitch ass!" I easily towered over them, being over 6 foot tall, and glowered down at the punk. Without words, I snatched up some of his shirt and raised him up to my eye level. "I said! Leave him, the fuck, alone!" I said through my teeth. It took everything I had to keep from socking him in the face. I could easily break his jaw if I wasn't careful. I looked over at the corner of my eyes and saw that Gaara gazed up in my direction. His face stained with rows of tears, and aquatic eyes slightly puffy from his crying fit.

Just looking over at him, put a stronger sense of dominance over my prey, as I gave them a taste of their own medicine. "Fuck off! Bitch!" I yelled as I tossed him aside like a ragdoll. I could hear his body hit a desk, toppling it over. The rest of them looked at their fallen companion, then at me. "Who's, fucking, next?" I growled out, fists still clenched shut. They all scattered like cockroaches, and took off down the hallway. Just like them. They all act like they are so touch. Beating on the defenseless and weak. Then cowering when someone of their own stature comes and shows them just how badly they are hurting others. They all the true weaklings.

I sighed, and shook my head in shame, turning around to greet the distraught redhead. "Are you ok?" I pulled up a desk, and sat next to him, brushing off some of the paper bits that littered his hair. He sobbed, brushing off the last of the tears "Y-yeah… Thank you for helping me…" He sobbed quietly. I smiled, "You're very welcome. You are Gaara, right?" He helped in getting some of the paper bits off of the desk and his shoulder as he spoke "Yes… What's your name?" I noticed that he wouldn't look at me directly. Those idiots left a scar on his self esteem. "It's Rock Lee. But you can call me Lee."

We finished getting off those pieces of paper, and he looked up slightly and gave a small smile. "Thanks…" I couldn't help but to give my signature smile and thumbs up. "No problem. Would you like to be friends?" I asked. Hoping that he would say yes. He blinked those gorgeous aqua eyes at me, and smiled again. "S-Sure… I would like that…very much…" he spoke so softly, it was hard to understand unless I honed in on what he was saying. I beamed at him, happy that he said yes. "Don't worry; those fuckers won't bother you anymore. If you need anything, just holler for me. I will be right there to protect you." I saw those amazing eyes finally look into my own, and glaze over with happiness. "R-Really?" He asked, thinking that this was too good to be true. Would all the suffering end? Could he live a somewhat normal life now?

How could I say no to that face? "Of course. No one bullies my friends around. I love to feel needed. I love to protect what is precious to me." I accidentally spoke that last part out, but I rolled with it anyways. He smiled a little bigger as I placed a hand on his back for comfort. Silently telling him that "all the torture will end."

You will suffer, no more.


I was a victim of bullying. It is no joke. Bullies don't understand the pain they excert through their actions and words.

Stop bullying.