Happy Christmas, bullies!
December 19th
Dear Diary,
Oh, why was I born looking this way? Will I ever find anyone who sees past this cursed face of mine? I’d hoped by my age I’d have found a way to cope with it, but the old demons are still waiting, just behind my shoulder, to drag me down into the pit with them. Every mirror taunts me, and today has been worse than ever.
I don’t know why I applied for the transfer here; perhaps this has all been a horrible mistake. I seem to have got off on the wrong foot somehow, and I‘m not sure how to put it right.
They’re a tight team, none of them needs any new friends. That was most obvious at lunchtime. (By the way, Dear Diary, the food is gorgeous here: one up-side to the job, I suppose.) I stood in the overly warm lunch hall, inhaling aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg, and felt terribly self-conscious. Nobody made any space for me. In fact Donna, who seems to have some sort of control over the others, made them all move up and spread out, so that there was no room left for me at all.
At one point, I caught a girl’s eye. I grinned as hard as I could, and prayed that she would return my smile, just a little bit. And I think she would have, but Donna saw her and gave her a sharp kick to the ankle! And, of course, that was the end of that. Perhaps I should report it… it’s bullying, after all. But Donna seems to be the one in charge around here, at least while the boss is out of town, and I sense that she could make life very unpleasant for me.
I’ve spoken to mum about it tonight. She said it’ll rock the boat, and be a bad way to start trying to make friends. I told her how self-conscious I’m feeling, with my face and all, and she gave the usual reply: ‘You’re beautiful, darling! Hold your head high and be proud!’ How many years has she been saying that to me? Still, nice to feel someone’s on your side, I suppose.
December 20th
Dear Diary,
Things have moved on. This is no longer just frostiness. They’ve started calling me names, and they’re not being subtle about it. If only I didn’t look this way!
I’ll never forget my father’s last words to me: ‘Never let anyone tell you you don’t look right, kid; there ain’t nothing wrong with that face of yours.’ They were the last words he spoke on this earth. That was the moment I knew there really was something wrong with me. He knew it, mum knows it - we all know it! Maybe Donna and the others are just more honest than my own family.
Speaking of Donna, I passed her on my lonely way to the lunch hall today. I said ‘Hello,’ and she ignored me. What could I do? I have to try to make friends here, after all, I can’t keep applying for transfer after transfer. But she looked at me as if I was a total moron.
‘I just want us all to get along,’ I said.
She simply snorted at me. I could hear her laughing this afternoon, looking in my direction, enjoying another opportunity to ridicule me in front of the rest of the team.
But I can’t give up! There must be one charitable soul here, surely! It’s time to start slaying some demons. If this lot get to know me, they might start seeing the real me, the me on the inside. And I’ll get the perfect opportunity tomorrow night, at the Christmas social.
December 21st
Oh, Dear Diary, What was I thinking?! This has been the most humiliating night of my life!
We met for a meal and games night up at The Old Oak. They formed two teams for the quiz, (Donna heading up one, of course), and picked their team members slowly and deliberately, making sure I knew I was being left out.
Eventually, I was the only one standing there. Tears burned my eyes, but I fought every instinct to run and hide. No more running for me. This time, I’m seeing things through.
It was Donna’s pick, which is a joke in itself, as I was the only one standing there, and should have just been allowed to join her team no questions asked. But I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to, my feet felt glued to the ground.
She looked at me, long and hard, and then turned back to her team. In that awful, high, whiny voice of hers that fills my belly with dread, she said ‘I think we’ll stop where we are, thank you very much,’ and they all burst out laughing. Every single one of them.
There doesn’t seem to be a kind soul in this whole department. They’re either downright nasty or they’re too afraid of Donna to be nice to me. This can’t go on.
I went home, alone. And here I sit. Alone. I can’t even call mum: Thursday is her book club night.
December 22nd
Dear Diary,
After another sleepless night, I’ve come to a decision. I can’t spend my life in fear, and I can’t live with the way I’m being treated here. It’s time to take control. Dad was right, there’s nothing wrong with my face. It’s just different, and different can be good.
I’m going to report them to the boss. He’s due in tomorrow, and I’m going to make an appointment as soon as I can. I’ve heard he’s fair and firm, so I’m sure he’ll help. It’ll be my word against theirs, which may make things tricky. He’s not been here to see the way they’ve treated me so far.
I spoke to mum, and, once she’d finished telling me the extremely complicated plot of the novel they’d been discussing at her book club last night, she said ‘You’re beautiful, darling! Hold your head high and be proud!’
It’s too late for that, I told her. If the boss doesn’t take my case seriously, I’ll hand in my notice.
This has got to be the worst Christmas ever.
December 23rd
Dear Diary,
I am writing this with my mouth open in disbelief. In fact, I’ve just drooled onto this page, which is not pleasant.
This is what happened this morning.
We were all getting on with things as usual, when, without warning, in walked The Boss.
What a man! He seemed to command his surroundings, to draw admiration and awe from every living soul. Was it the cut of his suit, or that gorgeous complexion of his… hard to say, but the moment I saw him, I knew I could never work for anyone else, ever again.
And I’m not the only one who feels it. I could see it all around the place. They all adore him.
It was all ‘Hello, sir,’ ‘Great to see you, sir!’ and ‘You’re looking fantastic, sir!’
What a bunch of creeps!
I had a plan ready. When he passed me, I would say ‘Hello Sir, we haven’t met before and I’m afraid our first conversation must be a difficult one,’ and then I was going to tell him just exactly how I’d been welcomed into the firm by Donna and her crones.
I never got to put my plan into action.
About two minutes after he entered the room, the boss spotted me, and he came straight over. The others parted before him, with their sickly compliments falling on deaf ears. He seemed only to have eyes for me, and I sensed them turning, one by one, to stare.
He welcomed me as if I were an old friend, hugging me and laughing. And then he told me he has something really, really special lined up for me!
A quick glance to my left confirmed Donna’s open mouth and round eyes. It was tempting to make some sort of joke about her own looks at that moment, but there wasn’t much point. I decided to enjoy the boss’s attention.
This may just be the start of bigger things for me at last…
December 24th
Dear Diary,
Isn’t life strange? I’ve been the butt of every joke and jibe since I arrived here, and now, suddenly… suddenly they’re fighting to get me drinks and sit next to me. Me! With my face and all!
Oh, I know it’s only because of this business with the boss. They’re as shallow as a puddle in August.
The biggest shocker is Donna, who can’t be nice enough, it seems. ‘You’ll be famous before you know it,’ she said, ‘Once he’s picked you for his right-hand-man, you’re set.’
It’s slightly sickening, this change of heart they’ve had. I wasn’t sure whether to forgive them or take some revenge for the way they’ve treated me…
I asked mum for some advice. As usual, she was full of it.
‘Forgive them and move on,’ she said, ‘Taking revenge is like swallowing poison and waiting for somebody else to die.’
I think she’s right. I’m going to move on. After all, things are looking very good for me here, now.
‘Tell me again,’ mum begged me, chuckling, ‘What were the words that are going to make my son a star?’
‘Oh, mum,’ I sighed happily. I’m still feeling all twinkly at the thought of what the boss said, and I really didn’t mind repeating it at all, not even a little, teeny, tiny bit. ‘He said, Rudolf, with your nose so bright, won’t you drive my sleigh tonight?’
- The End -
Dear Diary,
Oh, why was I born looking this way? Will I ever find anyone who sees past this cursed face of mine? I’d hoped by my age I’d have found a way to cope with it, but the old demons are still waiting, just behind my shoulder, to drag me down into the pit with them. Every mirror taunts me, and today has been worse than ever.
I don’t know why I applied for the transfer here; perhaps this has all been a horrible mistake. I seem to have got off on the wrong foot somehow, and I‘m not sure how to put it right.
They’re a tight team, none of them needs any new friends. That was most obvious at lunchtime. (By the way, Dear Diary, the food is gorgeous here: one up-side to the job, I suppose.) I stood in the overly warm lunch hall, inhaling aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg, and felt terribly self-conscious. Nobody made any space for me. In fact Donna, who seems to have some sort of control over the others, made them all move up and spread out, so that there was no room left for me at all.
At one point, I caught a girl’s eye. I grinned as hard as I could, and prayed that she would return my smile, just a little bit. And I think she would have, but Donna saw her and gave her a sharp kick to the ankle! And, of course, that was the end of that. Perhaps I should report it… it’s bullying, after all. But Donna seems to be the one in charge around here, at least while the boss is out of town, and I sense that she could make life very unpleasant for me.
I’ve spoken to mum about it tonight. She said it’ll rock the boat, and be a bad way to start trying to make friends. I told her how self-conscious I’m feeling, with my face and all, and she gave the usual reply: ‘You’re beautiful, darling! Hold your head high and be proud!’ How many years has she been saying that to me? Still, nice to feel someone’s on your side, I suppose.
December 20th
Dear Diary,
Things have moved on. This is no longer just frostiness. They’ve started calling me names, and they’re not being subtle about it. If only I didn’t look this way!
I’ll never forget my father’s last words to me: ‘Never let anyone tell you you don’t look right, kid; there ain’t nothing wrong with that face of yours.’ They were the last words he spoke on this earth. That was the moment I knew there really was something wrong with me. He knew it, mum knows it - we all know it! Maybe Donna and the others are just more honest than my own family.
Speaking of Donna, I passed her on my lonely way to the lunch hall today. I said ‘Hello,’ and she ignored me. What could I do? I have to try to make friends here, after all, I can’t keep applying for transfer after transfer. But she looked at me as if I was a total moron.
‘I just want us all to get along,’ I said.
She simply snorted at me. I could hear her laughing this afternoon, looking in my direction, enjoying another opportunity to ridicule me in front of the rest of the team.
But I can’t give up! There must be one charitable soul here, surely! It’s time to start slaying some demons. If this lot get to know me, they might start seeing the real me, the me on the inside. And I’ll get the perfect opportunity tomorrow night, at the Christmas social.
December 21st
Oh, Dear Diary, What was I thinking?! This has been the most humiliating night of my life!
We met for a meal and games night up at The Old Oak. They formed two teams for the quiz, (Donna heading up one, of course), and picked their team members slowly and deliberately, making sure I knew I was being left out.
Eventually, I was the only one standing there. Tears burned my eyes, but I fought every instinct to run and hide. No more running for me. This time, I’m seeing things through.
It was Donna’s pick, which is a joke in itself, as I was the only one standing there, and should have just been allowed to join her team no questions asked. But I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to, my feet felt glued to the ground.
She looked at me, long and hard, and then turned back to her team. In that awful, high, whiny voice of hers that fills my belly with dread, she said ‘I think we’ll stop where we are, thank you very much,’ and they all burst out laughing. Every single one of them.
There doesn’t seem to be a kind soul in this whole department. They’re either downright nasty or they’re too afraid of Donna to be nice to me. This can’t go on.
I went home, alone. And here I sit. Alone. I can’t even call mum: Thursday is her book club night.
December 22nd
Dear Diary,
After another sleepless night, I’ve come to a decision. I can’t spend my life in fear, and I can’t live with the way I’m being treated here. It’s time to take control. Dad was right, there’s nothing wrong with my face. It’s just different, and different can be good.
I’m going to report them to the boss. He’s due in tomorrow, and I’m going to make an appointment as soon as I can. I’ve heard he’s fair and firm, so I’m sure he’ll help. It’ll be my word against theirs, which may make things tricky. He’s not been here to see the way they’ve treated me so far.
I spoke to mum, and, once she’d finished telling me the extremely complicated plot of the novel they’d been discussing at her book club last night, she said ‘You’re beautiful, darling! Hold your head high and be proud!’
It’s too late for that, I told her. If the boss doesn’t take my case seriously, I’ll hand in my notice.
This has got to be the worst Christmas ever.
December 23rd
Dear Diary,
I am writing this with my mouth open in disbelief. In fact, I’ve just drooled onto this page, which is not pleasant.
This is what happened this morning.
We were all getting on with things as usual, when, without warning, in walked The Boss.
What a man! He seemed to command his surroundings, to draw admiration and awe from every living soul. Was it the cut of his suit, or that gorgeous complexion of his… hard to say, but the moment I saw him, I knew I could never work for anyone else, ever again.
And I’m not the only one who feels it. I could see it all around the place. They all adore him.
It was all ‘Hello, sir,’ ‘Great to see you, sir!’ and ‘You’re looking fantastic, sir!’
What a bunch of creeps!
I had a plan ready. When he passed me, I would say ‘Hello Sir, we haven’t met before and I’m afraid our first conversation must be a difficult one,’ and then I was going to tell him just exactly how I’d been welcomed into the firm by Donna and her crones.
I never got to put my plan into action.
About two minutes after he entered the room, the boss spotted me, and he came straight over. The others parted before him, with their sickly compliments falling on deaf ears. He seemed only to have eyes for me, and I sensed them turning, one by one, to stare.
He welcomed me as if I were an old friend, hugging me and laughing. And then he told me he has something really, really special lined up for me!
A quick glance to my left confirmed Donna’s open mouth and round eyes. It was tempting to make some sort of joke about her own looks at that moment, but there wasn’t much point. I decided to enjoy the boss’s attention.
This may just be the start of bigger things for me at last…
December 24th
Dear Diary,
Isn’t life strange? I’ve been the butt of every joke and jibe since I arrived here, and now, suddenly… suddenly they’re fighting to get me drinks and sit next to me. Me! With my face and all!
Oh, I know it’s only because of this business with the boss. They’re as shallow as a puddle in August.
The biggest shocker is Donna, who can’t be nice enough, it seems. ‘You’ll be famous before you know it,’ she said, ‘Once he’s picked you for his right-hand-man, you’re set.’
It’s slightly sickening, this change of heart they’ve had. I wasn’t sure whether to forgive them or take some revenge for the way they’ve treated me…
I asked mum for some advice. As usual, she was full of it.
‘Forgive them and move on,’ she said, ‘Taking revenge is like swallowing poison and waiting for somebody else to die.’
I think she’s right. I’m going to move on. After all, things are looking very good for me here, now.
‘Tell me again,’ mum begged me, chuckling, ‘What were the words that are going to make my son a star?’
‘Oh, mum,’ I sighed happily. I’m still feeling all twinkly at the thought of what the boss said, and I really didn’t mind repeating it at all, not even a little, teeny, tiny bit. ‘He said, Rudolf, with your nose so bright, won’t you drive my sleigh tonight?’
- The End -
Happy Christmas!