This story took place when I was fourteen, it was PE and my class was doing table tennis. By this time I had moved to an all girls school and had been there for a consecutive four years, over the course of these four years I had grown a hate club for absolutely no reason other than jealousy on their part. However much they teased me verbally I knew nothing could be done other than tell them to stop, I also managed to convince my dumb self that they would never do anything physical. Right. Wrong. I am sitting in the corner of my class with my best friend, the both of us choosing not to participate in the mini-tournament that the teacher had orchestrated, this teacher and I had a less than acceptable relationship but that story is for later, now as me and my friend sit in this corner chatting I get hit in the face, hard, by a ping pong ball. This was hard enough to leave a bruise on my cheek, luckily I could cover it with my mask, I looked in the direction in which it came and saw the co-president of my hate club. I decided to ignore it until it continued to happen. When the class is over I go to the teachers and tell them what happened, showing the bruise on my face and getting the account of my best friend as evidence, they proceed to tell me they will look into it. Next day I am called into the office and the teacher tells me that since the teacher didn't see and there were no cameras in the gym she couldn't do anything, she also told me that it was likely I could have given myself the bruise as an excuse to blame these girls. I knew the teacher had seen and that the gym did have cameras but that wasn't what bothered me, what bothered me and eventually made me cry was the fact that this teacher continued to tell me how I was most likely making it up and lecturing me for what I had said to make them stop, when I started to tear up she told me to stop trying to get pitty.