Gender is a stereotype because we expect men to be tough and smart while females are are soft and emotional, thats why when people aren't what we expect them to be they can be bullied. But our opinions are changing for the better.
Sams Diary Entry One: Being a tomboy is rough, I’ll admit it. But the dresses and makeup and all the other crap that comes with that role is not for me, I could never live that sort of life. I mean what’s so fun about playing dolls or squealing about the latest gossip anyway? I am writing this diary because I lost a very heated discussion with my carer. I think the idea is so that I let all of my heat out and don’t hurt the kids that hurt me. My motto; Take no shit from no one! But I don’t think my carer agrees with my motto, hence the diary. A bit about myself: my name is Sam, my birth name is Samantha but I hate that name, for obvious reasons. So I am just called Sam. I am fourteen and no one absolutely no one understands me, but that’s okay because I like being alone anyway. My Dad died at the age of twenty-five in a house fire, I was 4 at the time. After my Dads death went downhill from there, I don’t remember much as I was only 4 but I remember my Mum crying and these men giving her bags of green stuff (The green stuff turned out to be weed) for money, she went to the bedroom with the weed and for a couple of hours after she came out she was happy and so was I. But that happiness didn’t last long. I can never forget the sight that I saw that day. I walked into that room at the age of nine, my mother hanging from the ceiling by a rope around her distorted neck; a trickle of blood ran out her mouth like a drop of water running down the windscreen after a bout of rain. After my mother’s suicide it was just counsellor after carer after police officer every day for two years, two terrible years went by before I was allowed to forget. For the past two years my carer Rachel has been there for me, not that I need it mind you. Entry Two: The kids at school have finally forgotten my past and have left me alone, most of them skirting around me in the corridor if they have to pass me. I think that they are frightened of me; to them I am the violent individual that should be left alone at all costs, for fear of being beaten up. But there are a few select individuals that target me because I am not like a “normal” person, I do not have the strength to fend off the five bullies, so I must succumb to their disgusting wishes. I do not need help from anyone and I will find a way to free myself from their horrid wishes of sadism and sexual pleasure, these boys disgust me but no matter how hard I fight, I am no match for all five of them. Entry Three: It has been a few weeks since my last entry; the boys have reached the pinnacle of sadism, they made me break my own arm. I am not going to go into the details, but I will tell you this it hurt, A LOT. Rachel was pretty distraught but I just told her I tripped down the stairs, she said and I quote “your arm looks like the S bend behind the toilet.” Entry Four: I have given up, those boys have destroyed everything! They burnt our house to the ground and there was nothing I could do, we were all unharmed but what I have I got to live for now, at least if I end it my father will be there. I think that, that is what I will do, end it now before it gets any worse. If anyone finds this know who I was and what they did to me, don’t judge me, I am happy with the decision I have made, give this to Rachel and tell her I said goodbye. I wrote this story because
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