downward spirals...
How did this happen to me?
I mean really, how did this all happen to me?
I used to be a good kid… a winner, top of the class. Someone all the other kids would look up to and try to emulate.
Where did it all go wrong?
My mom is gonna stuff my head down the garbage disposal for having missed the bus again. She’s been diagnosed with some kind of hormonal imbalance and hasn’t stopped bleeding for 6 years.
I swear these floors were designed to make kids like me feel even worse about their lives than they already do. It probably even makes the staff feel crappier, too. Maybe that’s why they don’t have any empathy for me. Maybe that’s why they just turn the other way while ‘the Hectors’ have their way with me.
And what’s with these lights? If I don’t get out of this room, I might actually have a seizure. They never stop blinking! They blink so fast that I think most people don’t even notice them. However, staring at this green and white tile floor in the dis- ciplinarian’s office for the last 20 minutes has made the flicker painfully obvious to me.
It’s making it so hard for me to concentrate.
I’ve gotta figure where it all went wrong. I’ve gotta connect all the pieces. I don’t even want to think about the look on my mom’s face when she gets here.
What if she has a hormonal conniption right here in the disci- plinarian’s office?
She had to leave work early in order to come and pick me up. Last time this happened, she said I would be severely punished if I missed the bus again.
But... I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t bring myself to get on that bus today. There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and I’ve crossed it too many times this year.
The Hectors have been threatening me all day.
During 3rd period, a group of guys known as the Hectors showed me the ropes.
During lunch, they showed me the scissors. Then during 6th period, they showed me the knives.
They had been making promises and chuckling all day. I ran into them in the hallway today a dozen times, at least. They were laughing and having a good time, while I tried to act like I didn’t care.
I acted as though I didn’t care what they were going to do to me today with the instruments they kept brandishing. I acted as if whatever they were going to do had no effect on me.
After all, that is the advice adults will always give you. They tell you to ignore guys like the Hectors because they feed on your reactions. Maybe that works with most bullies, but not with the Hectors.
They feed on each other. They feed on their mutual sense of sadistic humor. They cheer each other on.
Ugh, just thinking about it all puts me on the edge of bonker-dom.
How did this happen to me?
I used to be going places. I was popular and constantly winning awards. All the girls in my class had crushes on me. All the boys looked up to me. The limelight was mine.
That was only a couple of years ago in elementary school. In 5th grade, everything was going swimmingly, and I was living the dream at school.
Life used to be fun. It used to be something to look forward to everyday when I got up in the morning.
I remember everyone thought I was so cool because I would brave the cold winter mornings without a jacket. Picture me with nothing but a short sleeve shirt to shelter me from the blis- tering cold of New England all winter long. That’s how tough I was.
Well, it seemed tough back then; now, it just seems imbecilic. I guess elementary school kids were easier to impress, myself included.
The entire class used to watch in awe as I performed acrobat- ics with my school chair when the teacher left the room. I was convinced that I could someday turn such antics into a profes- sionally recognized sport.
Some of the other kids would try to imitate me, but they just didn’t have the skills. Again, I find these achievements rather paltry today.
I suppose I was a bit rambunctious, but I was never mean.
UGHHHH!!!
What have I become?
None of the teachers like me now.
Last week, my 65-year-old computer teacher called my parents in to school because she thought I was sexually harassing her.