First day of First Grade. (P1?) (512 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.33 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by boop (View user info) at 2008-09-24 00:55:57 EDT
I'm wiping and wiping and the blood just won't stop. The tears are mixing with the blood and blurring my vision, but I know there's a lot of shiny red in my right hand.
"CLEAN THAT SHIT UP!"
whap.
"I'm trrrrrryyyyyying!" I bleet out between blotting my nose and trying to see if it's stopped running red rivulets down my ugly face. I'm sure that last "whap" didn't help.
"Well, it certainly doesn't LOOK like you're trying. If you were TRYING, you'd be DONE now." Each exasperated word forced from her blue face; irate as usual. I can do no right.
I'm crying because she's screaming at me. I'm crying harder because I'm bleeding everywhere and making us both late. I'm crying because I don't know why she's so angry, <i>ever. I don't know why I'm crying and this makes me cry harder. I just want to go to school. I just want to leave this place. This is not my home.</i>
This was the beginning of my first grade year. My first day of school since a teary-eyed goodbye to the most wonderful woman I'd ever met, Miss Kress. She loved penguins and Hawaii. I hope she moved there. I hoped that she could find a wonderful man who would make her a "Mrs." a Happy Mrs. Kress. These are the thought which drifted through my head, ignorant to the future. This year, this life.
The other memory I have of getting ready for school that year was running after the car immediately after a blizzard in my shorts. I can't remember why I wasn't in the car on time, but getting in was the only thing that mattered. I had green shorts on, shoes in hand, and some '90s-approved tank top. The day was white; and the cold air bit into my skin and feet, little shards of Legos angrily DT'ing.
This is the year I was beaten by sixth graders and stolen from. They were just "boys", I thought. I'd never before encountered a cruel stranger. My old school was full of fun, naps, and love. I wasn't sure what I'd done to these boys and I didn't care, just wished they would stop. I dreaded walking to the bus stop every day and then the ride home.
I eventually asked Ma about what to do when people are mean to you for seemingly no reason.
"Kill 'em with kindness," she said.
I brought cookies now. They ate them. The torment did not dissipate in the least.
I had no idea how to appease my teacher (who I later realized was just racist; therefor hated me. Everything about me pissed her off; but that's another story that doesn't matter) so I set my time to alternately avoiding them and bringing cookies to these boys at the bus stop. Thank god they left me alone at school, I'm not sure what I would've done.
Accidentally letting out what was happening at school; my mother was irate. She was on a mission.
"Why didn't you tell me right away?" she asked nonchalantly.
"I don't know." I told her. I didn't tell her because I knew she'd be angry. I knew she'd give me a beating worse than anything those sixth-grade boys could deliver.
Hope erased itself from my life when I was six years old. People still comment on my bitterness and rage. I don't care what they think. This was the first few months of my eighteen year journey through hell.
User Reviews
Submitted by BobSandwich (user info) at 2008-09-27 14:57:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 Cause I thought you were dead and shit.
Submitted by sage104 (user info) at 2008-09-24 16:18:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-09-24 13:21:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
AUTO +2 BEANO LOL
Submitted by John_H_Kim (user info) at 2008-09-24 12:37:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The content was really good but some of the writing style was a bit distracting.
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2008-09-24 09:26:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
It was decently written so I won't subtract anything.
But 'my 18th year of hell' grow a set and skate it of, sally.
Submitted by sandmantate (user info) at 2008-09-24 08:52:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
When I was in sixth grade, a skinny ginger chick made some dude eat dog poop. We ragged him so hard for so many years that he finally had to move away. We heard that he was popular in his new school, and we couldn't live with that news. So, a bunch of us drove to his new school and the ginger chick made him eat grass. We were in the 10th grade the second time. We probably destroyed that kids life.
Submitted by AyeCarumba (user info) at 2008-09-24 08:23:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 purely because I initially read "after a blizzard in my shorts" differently to the way you intended.
Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2008-09-24 04:22:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
well your life sure sucks.
i remember when i was in sixth grade, my friend got beat up by three second graders. his shirt got torn and he had a shiner on his eye. it has been 11 years since and we have not let him forget that day.
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2008-09-24 01:17:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This is the darkest day in the history of Springfield. If anybody
wants me I'll be in the shower.
-- Homer Simpson
Lemon of Troy