Part 3My Mother's "Diet Pills" Were Actually Killing Me to Save My Brother

I put on a worried expression and asked, "Mom, how's my brother? I went to check on him yesterday and he was barely breathing. Is he about to..."

I trailed off without finishing the last two words, deliberately trying to anger her.

"No, your brother is fine. You'll be late for school if you don't hurry."

I trudged onto the school bus with my heavy body.

As soon as I got on, I heard raucous laughter. The entire bus full of students was laughing at me.

I pretended not to hear and found a seat.

"Who said you could sit down? Get up! What if you break the seat? It's so annoying that someone as fat as you is squeezing onto the school bus. You're taking up space for several people."

The girl speaking was Samantha, the ringleader of the bullies in our class.

She especially loved seeking attention and thought bullying me was great fun.

"Fatso," she muttered.

Hearing the whole bus laugh at her comment, she nodded in satisfaction.

In my past life, I had been too fat to dare resist, afraid that fighting back would only lead to more bullying.

And my mom had told me to avoid causing trouble at school, saying she didn't have the energy to look after me.

So I had always been meek and subservient.

But now things were different.

I looked at her and smiled slightly.

"You want me to give up my seat?"

She folded her arms and looked down at me, nodding arrogantly.

Alright then!

Since you're so eager to sit here, I'll oblige you.

I stood up, and she immediately sat down.

It was so cold, yet she was wearing shorts with stockings. She really wasn't afraid of the cold.

I suddenly grabbed her head and slammed it against the window. "Comfortable now?"

"What are you doing? How dare you hit people? Are you crazy?"

"Yeah, she's just a fat pig with a narrow mind. So annoying."

"I know, right? Just looking at all that blubber makes me want to puke. I'm glad I'm not in her class."

I ignored the taunts from the other students. My goal now was to establish dominance.

"Let go of me! Let go!!!" the girl screamed. I sneered and released my grip.

"What, still want to sit?"

Samantha shook her head, tears and snot streaming down her face.

I pulled back my hand and she quickly stood up.

Even if no one approved of my actions, I didn't care. As long as I was happy, that was enough.

"Psycho," I heard Samantha mutter as she ran away.

When we arrived at school, I clumsily got off the bus, triggering another round of laughter.

They even gathered around me and started singing.

"Fatty fatty, blob of lard.

Fatty fatty, makes us barf.

Fatty fatty, ha ha ha."

I tried my best to ignore them and walked into the classroom.

I sat alone at a desk in the very back - it was the only place spacious enough for me to fit.

It was too cold outside, so I had just closed the door when someone opened it again.

"What's the problem? The classroom stinks. I'm just airing it out, is that not allowed?" said one of Samantha's minions. I looked over at Samantha, whose face still bore marks from hitting the window earlier.

I nodded. "You think the classroom stinks, huh?"

With that, I stood up and dumped the trash can over her.

"Now you're the one who stinks. Didn't you want to air things out? Go outside!"

I shoved her out and slammed the door shut.

Her shrieks could be heard from outside.

I had barely been at school an hour before being called to the office.

The homeroom teacher was biased against me.

"Jelena, what's going on with you? You come to school and immediately start hitting classmates. I can see you really don't want to study anymore. You already have a head full of food, and now you're hitting classmates too? I'm calling your parents."

I let out a cold laugh. "Teacher, do you know why I hit someone? How can you blame me without knowing the facts? Isn't Samantha such a good student that she can do no wrong?"

The teacher stood up and walked towards me in her high heels. I found the sound quite annoying.

"If it's not your fault, then whose is it? Samantha is such a good student, how could she be wrong? You're really giving me a headache. If you keep being so stubborn, I'll have to expel you."

At our school, homeroom teachers had the authority to expel students.

Fine, expel me then. I wasn't afraid.

"Oh really? So if I told you Samantha led her gang to bully me, cornering me in the bathroom and forcing me to drink dirty water, dumping garbage on me, and making me eat their leftovers, you'd still think it was my fault?" I raised my head and stared boldly at the teacher. "Teacher, I don't care if you're biased, but you can't wrongly accuse me. I have video evidence. Do you want to risk everything over this?"

She finally panicked. If word got out that she was a teacher who allowed bullying to happen, she would be fired.

"We'll discuss this matter later," the teacher finally backed down.