My favorite and worse bells were the ones that run at lunch time. For one I would get a chance to savor the sweet taste of food in case the bullies forgot about my existence for a short while and decoded t live and concentrate on their lives for once. The best parts of my lifer were always spent eating, with my mouth stuffed with food as juices dripped down my throat towards my digestive truck. The other happy parts were spent when I was sleeping and dreaming of no one in particular. Dreaming of no one and nothing as dear sleep took me to wonderlands I had never visited before. After the science teacher had finished his glory speech about potassium symbol being K, and advising me to take ten minutes of my time at the hallways and school gate every day to study the chemical symbols on the wall, the bell rung. It was a huge sigh for me, because finally I would stop feeling stupid and at least start feeling better. The hallways were crowded as usual and I matched towards my locker on th
‘‘You are a gem and you shouldn’t be seen with trash like her.’’ I wasn’t even surprised, I already knew who I was, I was a door mat and no matter what I would never be a doormat or rise to the ranks of a face towel. It was only good that someone got to remind me of who and what I was. I bit back tears that were threatening to come out of my eyes and breathed in and out as I looked down. ‘‘This doesn’t scare you; this doesn’t scare you, you have been through worse, you have been through hell and blazing fames, but you still came out alive,’’ my inner voice whispered, pleading with me to stand up and fight for myself, pleading with me to be a human being for once and defend myself Infront of the bullies. I was weak, I couldn’t do it, never could, I wasn’t man enough, or woman enough. It is crazy how I always planned one hundred outrageous things that I would do to the bullies everyday and fail to do them. How I had fantasized about killing Vince and wiping his DNA from the face of t
When you see your bully and greatest enemy suffering, the first instinct should be to cry out in joy, to thank the heavens and Gods, to whisper a thank you prayer to whoever made it happen. It is the natural law of the universe. When a competitive business that challenges yours goes bankrupt and calls, the first instinct should be to celebrate. This should have been my reaction, absolute happiness, the loudest scream and cheer when he got flipped. But this all sounded and looked like a dream. It wasn’t the first time that I was daydreaming, it was my talent, since I couldn’t live happily in the world I could comfortably do it inside my head. I rubbed my eyes and confirmed the events. It was the bully caught up in a brawl, with my newest friend Cage. Six minutes ago After Vince was doner with his mighty speech about trash and gems, taking sides and Barbra crossing over if she wanted to stay in this school, he made a you turn with his full team. His walking style was the usual one,
‘‘What is going on here?’’ the principal asked as he made his way trough the crowd of students. Wea all stepped aside and I looked down as he passed next to me so he could not remember my face and laugh loudly. ‘‘Step aside, can you all stop gathering here like uncivilized people,’’ he added as he entered the clearing. ‘‘Sir, I have been, I…’’ Ryan pretended as he began introducing himself, as a prefect, the fakeness of his speech was what awed me the most. Why did people find it so easy to pretend. One could go ahead to pretend so much, so much to an extent that they forget about their real identity or selves. Or perhaps like a famous writer and orator I couldn’t remember placed it, most of the time, the lies people tell, reveal more about them than the truth. Funny. The fight was still on of course. No one was ready to conceded to admit that they were finally defeated. Vince drugged Cage towards the wall as Cage pulled him back attempting to lift his weigh in a commando move and
‘‘Hey, they you are,’’ Barbra greeted. ‘‘Oh yeah,’’ I replied. She settled on the table next t me and we continued eating quietly. She looked like she had a burning desire to say something, something that she thought would change things and my situation as a whole. ‘‘I’ve never loved boiled chicken, I like fried or roasted, marinated chicken,’’ she declared. ‘‘Oh okay,’’ I played dumb, acting like I didn’t know whatever she was trying to insinuate with that statement. ‘‘You want some?’’ she asked. I didn’t lift my head up but kept on chewing my food in that posture. What was she trying to insinuate, it was very clear, Barbra thought I was fat, too fat that the amount of food helpings being served wasn’t enough for me. Sick right. It was a sick world but I didn’t care anymore, thy could do anything to me and I still wouldn’t care. I still wouldn’t give a damn about it. ‘‘No, I am okay, very okay,’’ I shot back. It wasn’t about what she said, it was the way she ad said it, like
Something tapped the ack of my head and I continued eating ignoring it. Ignoring it as if nothing had happened. I continued eating and some giggling caught my attention. I turned around to find Sasha and her friends giggling as she licked some jam with a wooden spoon. I didn’t inquire about what they were giggling about and instead just turned around to continue doing my own things. As soon as I was back, some stuff I couldn’t tell began hitting the back of my head again. I touched the spot and felt some warm and sticky substance. I couldn’t tell what it was and as I turned around Sasha and her friends took pictures of me frowning at the sight. I had never looked good n any picture. Pictures exaggerated my ugliness, they made sure to magnify all my imperfections and add salt to them. I hated images, pictures or anything that created a reflection or another copy of me. I turned back to my food and gobbled it up. Food was my only sense of happiness and I wasn’t going to let any of it
In my whole school life, there were two depressing and worse moments that kept on repeating themselves. One was the math class that I had to attend every day, chaired with the most unprofessional and uncouth teacher Mr. Thomas. The next one was even worse than the first one. Swimming classes that we took together. During swimming classes, two classes were combined together, together to make sure there were many students their altogether, added to by the harsh and scrutinizing swimming teacher. It was hell. I had pretended to be sick with asthma, but the pool was heated and the showers warm, rendering my excuses useless. There was no option to replace swimming, you had to learn it no matter the phobias, and since most of the students didn’t like French as a foreign language and there was an option to stroke swimming with French, a very outrageous option, of course in Maslow High School, they knew that no one or at least only two people would want to add French in their academic load.
I felt a hand tugging and pulling me as a voice I recognized kept on talking to me. ‘‘Perez, Perez,’’ it was Barbra again. ‘‘Oh, hey, I must have gotten dizzy,’’ I replied as I pulled myself back to oblivion. The lesson was awful as usual, after toying around for an eternity, she moved to the worst part of the lesson. ‘‘We will be competing to reach the other end, in groups of nine people each to see your progress in all the lessons we have been having,’’ she announced. ‘‘Fuck it,’’ Barbra hissed next to me. But at least the swimming lesson was better than the French class. Here you could lazy around for a whole lesson as you pretended to listen or do the things the teacher said. ‘‘Do you have a personal history with that teacher, because whatever she did there was pretty intense, I mean why would anyone go to all that length to defame and do all that to you?’’ I asked. ‘‘Never mind, its in the past now,’’ I lied. I noticed heads around me turning to look at something. We foll