Since it is Christmas Eve, I will finish all the bad things I've done and tomorrow I promise to have a wonderfully light story for you. (And I never break a Promise.)
8th grade: (continued)
Shortly after the folder incident, we had a project we had to do. But the thing was that it was going to graded by the entire class. At first I thought nothing of it, but then I realized my group had to grade possibly the only "failed" groupd in our class. It wouldn't be a problem, but since I was going to grade, you see, I was surely going to be punished. When the teacher asked me what grade the group deserved (which was a Fail) I looked around and felt those stares. I smiled weakly and said, a B. The teacher frowned and asked me again. Again a B, I said. She threatened to fail me for my part of the project (which was a lot), if I wasn't fair with the grading. Everyone was still glaring at me and I felt my eyes water. The stress was getting to me. I didn't want to fail, but I didn't want to be the bad guy either. When the teacher called my name I just snapped. I yelled, "LEAVE ME ALONE!!" and got up and ran out of the class.
9th-10th grade:
I thought I was going to die. Another four years? I just survived the last three by a string. How the fuck was I going to make it here? Fortunately, it was during this time that I met some decent people. People like Momo, Kenia, Nicolei, Monique, Ariel (my old crush), Lulu, and others. (This is also when I believe I met Leo, my best friend's boyfriend at the time -I fucking hated his guts. x3 Look at me now. :P-) These were people who somewhat defined the rest of me. I feel like all the bad thing about me, are from what I got from middle school. (I'm sarcastic to people, I tend to be mean, and keep my distance.) The good things are from the people who know me to a point where they can piece me together.
There were an small events that happened though that wheeled me back to the drawing board. Martin, a classmate from middle school loved to be funny at other people's expense. I was walking to my class one day when he spotted me. He soon followed and kept repeating, "Leave me alone," in a mocking tone. I ignored him, but as soon as I was in a restroom I cried like I never cried before.
Another incident that happened was in ninth grade. I almost forgot how Libby looked like when I saw her coming towards me. My insides twisted. She was smiling awkwardly and asked to speak to speak to me in private. as soon as we were alone, she began to hit me and then ran off, not really leaving any evidence behind of what happened. I never got near her again. (But chances are that I would still try to talk to her. Even now.)
11-12th grade:
Drama. I've seen all before in middle school and seeing it tear apart those around me was nothing but torture. But then I realized, it was like a test to see who were really meant to survive in this world. I'm not sure if I failed or passed, but all I do know is that if the majority lost their sanity during this time, I'm sure I'm practically INSANE.
There you go. A small history of the things most people would call friends. Now, go fuck off.
I'm joking. I feel lighter today. Like I accomplished something great. Something... deep? Nah. More like revealing. Yeah, let's go with that.
Anyways, I want to wish all of you, my readers, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
-Poppy Mare
0 comments:
Post a Comment