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You know when you look back on your life and you just feel like there are just these certain days which define your life and exactly how you are now at this very second? Those days where little details stick out and they constantly ponder across your mind even years afterwards? This was one of those days. This was back when I attended high school, in a year which I now think of as a bit of a “rebel” year. It might have been one because quite possibly this day was the “baddest” day of my life. The weather was wet and cold and each step I took in the dark sodden grass reminded me of what I was doing. But it wasn’t what I was doing that was “wrong”, it was what many people were saying. The memory is clear of the exact happenings on that day, but somehow the people who didn’t share those memories had the most to say about it.

What actually happened on that winters day, only two will ever truly know. I felt as though nothing was wrong and surprisingly enough there was no little voice in the back of mind reminding me what I was doing was completely unmistaken. The events of that day people seemed to witness with their mouth, even though they didn’t see anything with their eyes. At the time it didn’t really come across, but now years on looking back I realise that I was caught in the abhorrent issue of rumours.

For a rumour to fully blossom and reach its full capabilities it requires a leg to stand on. In my case, I had two. My first being that there was no one to back me up, no one to confirm my story, no one to confirm my truth. And secondly, the only other person that was there with me and knows exactly what did happen is the one that made the rumours up.

It was a typical story of that game we used to play in primary school where t...

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...any opinions and it to me, I never found it fair that the reason they were changing their opinions, was just about as true

This whole situation gave me so much sadness, but it also gave me another insight to see what it is like on the other side. The side where no one is on your side, where no one even listens to your story, let alone believes it. When I say this time in my life really was hard, I’m seriously not kidding. I never felt any physical suffering really, but if I had to choose my closest feeling to it, I would choose this day and the weeks that followed. I learnt the hard way about rumours and it’s affected my general conversation up until today. Whenever someone tells me the “goss”, I always consider in my mind, “is this true?”, “I wonder where it came from?” and most importantly. “I wonder if behind this goss there is someone suffering and being hurt?”