Year 5

In Year 5 I moved schools,

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Luckily, everything seemed to go fine for the first few weeks.

I met my best friend, and we're still best friends now.

But soon I began to realise that I didn't quite fit. I was a little eccentric and precocious, and unafraid to speak my mind. 

A little target was painted square on my forehead.

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That's what they called me for almost a year. An ableist slur, though I did not know this at the time. 

At the beginning, I was unaffected, but gradually I wore away.

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Later that night, I went home, and my mum scolded me for not telling her I was being bullied.

I hadn't even known, at that point, that bullying could be more than being physically attacked.

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Even now, I still can't quite form the word in my mouth. It's just a word, a slur, but I can't even begin to try to say it. 

I hear many of my peers still saying it, though. Not to me anymore, but it hurts just as much.