PUNK PROSE: My Bully's Name is Stephanie by Kelsey Coletta

My Bully’s Name is Stephanie

In kindergarten I tried to change my name to Kelly and I became best friends with Stephanie who didn’t try to change her name but never told me I was weird and we laughed on the playground and played with our dolls and learned how to spell and dream. In second grade Stephanie decided to be friends with Brittany instead and no one ever told me but I figured it out when they laughed at me at recess and made excuses to keep me from playing with them and I tried so hard not to cry until I got home. In middle school they played sports together but I found solace in books because maybe books wouldn’t make me feel so empty inside. In high school Stephanie nearly starved herself to death and I wished we could have been friends again so she’d know that I spent half my day with my face in the toilet because I couldn’t control myself the way I assumed that she could and it never occurred to me that she hated existence just as much as I did. In college I tried to forget all the laughter and words that cut and dug like dull razors and I told myself that maybe mean girls grow up into women who wouldn’t hate me so maybe I could make friends in my psychology class. In grad school I went to our high school reunion and I drank a bottle of wine before I went and then I drank some more and remembered each word she’d ever said or not said and each recess she left me sitting alone under a tree where I tried and I tried and I failed to pretend like I couldn’t hear their laughter and I told the bartender that Stephanie was a (terrible word) and to be honest, she really kind of is and

more than anything I want to hate her but sometimes I remember that people grow up so that they can grow apart and nothing will ever erase the ache she planted within me and maybe this poem letter verse outcry scream echoing inside me is nothing more than a waste of time and energy

she

never

deserved

--Kelsey Coletta