Anonymous support online located across Europe

The Voice of Mónica J.

CONTAINS MILD SWEARING!!

Some people may have heard about the suicide of a girl in Spain. Some may have not.
Mónica Jaramillo was a 16 year old girl from Ciudad Real, in north Spain. She was originally from an  South American “ecuatorial” country, making her skin darker than that of the average Spanish person, her bone structure nicer.

She was a pretty girl, and very shy. For some unknown reason, she got bullied. I’m not going to talk about how the school is reacting to this, or what they’re saying, I’m going to talk about how she felt.
Mónica got told on a daily basis that she was ugly, that she wore shitty clothes, her shoes were ugly, she was an idiot, things like that.

Not only that though. People made her stand when she went on the school bus, they didn’t leave any seats for her. They locked her in or out of classrooms, they ganged up on her.

Imagine how it feels, your only way out is suicide. Some people don’t have to imagine, they are the same. Mónica had a hard time making friends, because she was so shy. She was hated for being different, for not being as outgoing as the rest. Mónica could have been a very social person inside, but what happened to her made her shy and awkward when around other people.

No one our age should feel like that, yet a lot of us do.

It’s hard to tell Mónica’s story, it’s hard to get the words in the right order in my head.

What Mónica felt because of what was said and done to her was sadness, hate and uselessness. All towards herself. she probably looked in the mirror and thought, ‘They’re right, I AM ugly.’ or something like that.

I don’t know Mónica, but I do know that she probably cried. No person would be able to not cry receiving that abuse. That’s what it is. Some people think that physical pain hurts most, but it’s actually mental and emotional pain that hurt most. People say “Oh, it’s not abuse, don’t worry.”, it IS a severe form of abuse and bullying.

She used to have to stand up on the bus because people wouldn’t let her sit with them. I know what it’s like to have to go on a bus full of people that hate you, but as least I always have somewhere to sit, and I’m fiery enough to grab someone’s bag and throw it in their faces if they don’t let me sit with them. I usually sit alone, but what I just mentioned has happened.

Mónica probably didn’t have that fiery streak in her, was probably too scared that the abuse would get worse if she did that.

To me, every single one of the people that get bullied or hated on is a brother or sister, even if I haven’t met them. I cried the night I found out about Mónica, because one of my many sisters lost her fight against bullies. She hung herself last week Friday when her parents were out. Imagine how hard it was to do that. To stand in front of that hanging noose and decide that you will do it. Mónica was very brave, and very sad.

“I want to have someone to love me, to notice me for me. I want to be who I am without being afraid, I want to laugh freely about things that I find funny. I want to have a friend. I want someone to hear me.” that is what goes through our minds every single day when we’re in the same situation as Mónica.

Mónica told her parents what was going on. And they tried their best to help her. She told her school what was going on, and no one helped her. No one said that they would do something about it. At most, they said that they could change her from classroom. That isn’t enough. What about on the bus? What about when she’s walking from one class to another? What kind of school says that?

Supposedly, her school is prestigious, and yet they said “It wasn’t bullying of any kind.” when they got asked. It WAS bullying. Why wasn’t the school doing its job? Because it was too worried about its prestige, its name. They didn’t care about Mónica, but I’m sure there was a teacher that did. There always is, but one teacher alone can’t speak for the whole school.

I’m a writer, so I’m going to express how she felt when she had to go on the bus in the form of a story. A very short one.

(THIS IS NOT A TRUE STORY, I’M INVENTING IT AS I GO ALONG, VERY FEW THINGS WERE TRUE.)

‘I don’t think I can handle much more of this. Everyone hates me.’ I think as I walk out of the school gates, knowing what would come next.

“BITCH!” I heard from behind me. I put my head down and keep walking, praying that I would be left alone today.

“She is so ugly. It’s a surprise her mother didn’t throw her out of the window when she was born.” I heard the squeaky voice of a girl. One of many, I wouldn’t be able to tell you which one exactly. As I waited for the bus, girls laughed at me, boys pushed me around.

When the bus finally arrived, everyone pushed in front of me so that they could get on first. When I got on, I try to have a seat at the front, but no one lets me sit with them. No one at the back did either, so it was impossible for me to sit somewhere. I stood, just like any other day.

I finally got home, and said hello to my parents. They asked if it was any better today and I just shook my head and went up to my room, with my dog.

My parents called up to me, saying that they’d be out for a while and they’d see me tonight. I shouted back that I’d be fine while they were gone.

I sat on the edge on the edge of the bed and looked at my dog. He whined and I let him go outside. The sun would be setting soon.

I started thinking about my day… I’d recently skipped 15 days of school, so when I returned it was worse than usual. The girls threw my pencil case down the toilet today. It had my house keys.
I started crying, and I got the rope I’d hidden under my bed out. I looked up at the ceiling and I took the light fixture off.

I hung the rope and made a noose, high enough so that my feet wouldn’t touch the ground anymore. I stood on my bed, I put my head through the noose and slowly stepped off the edge of the bed. I felt the rope cut into my neck for a moment, then it all went black and the pain left me… Finally left me alone.

And that’s where my parents will find me… hopefully dead…

Mónica hung herself, later found by her parents when they got home. They took her to the hospital and the doctors did everything they could to save her, but she still died 4 days later. Mónica didn’t have the will to live anymore, she didn’t want to wake up. She thought that death would be her only way out.

Do you know WHY she thought that? I’m guessing you do. She didn’t know where she could find someone she could trust. Someone she could talk to that would actually believe her.
I don’t want anyone else to die because we didn’t step out of the shadows people pushed us in to, because we didn’t fight back.

Mónica wasn’t heard, and thousands of teenagers our age(12-18, I’m talking in general, not the authors of this blog) aren’t either and they’ll end up like Mónica. I don’t want that to happen, so PLEASE, if you know someone who would want to help someone like her, or you yourself want to try and help, do it. Forget about what people will say or do to you, the feeling we get when someone is on our side makes us want to start doing star jumps out of happiness.

This is for the teachers out there, and the schools they work for:

If a student tells you they’re being bullied, you ask for a name and you either kick the person out of school, give them a lifetime’s worth of detention or have a serious talk with them. There isn’t a line between “bullying” and “not bullying”. It depends on the person, and if a person thinks it’s bullying, it’s bullying. And you take the right measures so it won’t keep happening. And, if the school is going to lie and say it wasn’t, forget your job and be honest. Someone needs to speak up, and teachers hear a lot of stories about bullying.

Again, you can contact us via:
E-mail: ourvoiceproject@hotmail.com
Or MSN: ourvoiceproject@hotmail.com

We will ALWAYS reply, unless you say otherwise, and we won’t post your story unless we have your specific permission, and, if we do, we’ll do it anonymously unless you say otherwise. You can always talk to us on MSN, we’re online nearly all day, so don’t be afraid. There’s only 3 of us working on this blog, and we’re the only ones with access to the e-mail and MSN, so it would between SoulSister, Zaracaz, myself(Meiskie) and you. No one else will ever hear a word of it. WE WANT TO HELP YOU.

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