One too many times. When I was younger, especially throughout middle school, I dealt with bullying and toxicity constantly.

I'd never been much of a Reddit user, but I decided to post my story after watching some of these on YouTube.

This situation happened when I was in seventh grade. During that time, I was progressively bullied by a group of kids that I will call the Goonies.

Now, I'm not a small person and I never have been. Around that time, I was around 5-11 and 150 pounds. Although I'm a bit big for my age, I've never been one to fight back. I have impulse control issues and ADHD. So when I get worked up, I have a hard time calming down, or I go overboard. Even so, I can mostly hold back my emotions when on medication. So, the Goonies, the group of kids

who constantly made my life hard throughout my school experience. This group compromised five or six kids,

mostly small and on the football team, but due to their numbers, they had an advantage over most

people in my school. They prayed consistently on people who were without a group. Most of the time they just

took food items during lunch and asked for money from others. On the bad days, they would fight and

take whatever they wanted. They've been praying on me and my group of friends for a while,

mostly talking trash and taking food. This time was different though. I'd wore my grandfather's chain

and crossed the school that I'd gotten as

inheritance when he passed the week before. When I tell you it meant a lot to me, it did. My grandfather

was my pride and joy. We had the best relationship as my father was mostly out of town working.

Now he's never been in the best health, but he got lung cancer a few months before and passed on.

The chain was all I really had besides some model train sets and a ukulele. That day I wore my chain to remove some of the grief I was feeling from his passing to make it through the day. My friends knew about the passing and were trying to comfort me throughout the day. But the one class I don't have with them was Jim and in our school we are required to remove jewelry before class. That part was uneventful. The problem came when I went back into the locker room.

All of the goons had Jim the period after and I would see them as I was in the locker room.

As I walked in and took my chain out of my locker, one of them took notice and immediately asked what I had in my hand.

I of course not wanting to cause a problem said nothing important. I went to the bathroom to put it on and when I walked out all of them were waiting for me. They started to tell me to give them what was around my neck. In that moment I was on the verge of tears because I didn't want to lose one of the only things I had left to remember my grandfather. So I made a run for it. They blocked the door and started punching

and kicking me. I didn't want to cause a fight because I knew it would get out of hand and up until then

I had a perfect school record. When they stopped, I sat up and started to try and leave. The main goony,

the leader of the pack, grabbed my chain and ripped it off me, breaking it, and mangling the cross that my grandfather took

such pride in. He started laughing as I stared at him in pure disbelief. I saw red. I lost it and

...