The High School Diaries 2

A little backstory:

I like writing. I love it. I think I am afraid of it also. at 43 years old, I have written so many unfinished stories, I could have a series just dedicated to that!

The first story, “The Darkened Halls Of High School: A true story.” High School Diaries 1. Can be found here.

All the “Bullying” in the news recently made me pull out these old stories of mine about my days in school. I have so many true happenings rattling around in my head that I wrote many of them out years ago. I decided to edit them (Your welcome, they were horrible with mistakes, lol.) and hopefully the grammar and spelling errors aren’t so bad that some people might get something from the stories.

The High School Diaries 2

ALL NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE GUILTY. THERE WAS NO INNOCENCE THAT I KNOW OF IN MY SCHOOL.THIS STORY ALSO CONTAINS PROFANITY. IT WAS MY CHILDHOOD AND IT WAS A ROUGH TIME. I WANT IT TO BE ACCURATE.

It was a long time ago. I took liberty remembering all the words spoken. I did my best to be accurate. I’m sure the dramatic writer in me added many things here and there. I just want you guys to know though, this really happened. There is a part when I am talking fast and saying a lot of things quickly. I can’t remember what I said accurately. It was so long ago. But it was pretty close and I think I captured the moment well. I hope you get something from the small tidbits of my life that I am sharing.

-TL Stafford.

“So what is today going to bring?” I said to myself as I stepped off the porch into the cold, bitter wind. A wind only the lakes of Michigan knew how to create.

The morning started off great. My mother had been up for what seemed like three days on a bipolar high about some new adventure that would save us all from our financial woes. She had a huge breakfast just waiting for me. I stepped out into the steamy bathroom and was met with the aroma of bacon and eggs. My mouth had watered as I rushed with the towel to get to the feast down below.

“Damn it’s cold this morning.” My teeth chattered as I walked the icy sidewalks toward school. The sun had yet to rise and I was annoyed that winter couldn’t make up its mind this year. One week of sunny skies and seventy-degree weather, and now it’s ten below zero and six inches of snow.

“Okay, maybe it’s only five below zero and there are only 2 inches of snow. BIG DEAL, MAKE UP YOUR MIND” I shouted to no one in particular on my walk. I laughed amusing myself. I had over two weeks of freedom since the incident in the hallway at school. None of the “Shit Kickers” had even glanced my way. My palms began to sweat thinking about it. My heart quickened.

“Oh well, maybe I should skip the next few days till the weekend,” I said to the sidewalk, there wasn’t anyone or anything else to talk to.

I could see the school now, the steam from the boilers shot into the air like rocket ships, and all I could do was walk and think of my impending doom.

“What door should I choose today?” I marveled at the clouds rolling up into the air. I wanted to be those clouds. I wanted to fly so high in the sky and touch them with my fingertips. Dance in the warm mists being created. The daydream took a hold of me and I was flying.

“I think maybe the back doors today. I have been seen too many times this week going in from the side.” My thoughts were racing, always matching my heartbeat when I neared school. I rounded the corner and reached for the handle to pull open the big door.

“Got ya fat boy!” A gloved hand grabbed my jacket and yanked me to the side and behind a large brick wall. It’s hard to describe a “yank”. You see them in cartoons and you realize it is a very accurate representation when it happens to you!

The back of the school had small walls sticking out from each side of every window. I doubted it had anything to do with structural architecture and all probably just for looks. It gave many a student the opportunity to push against one side with their feet and press their hands against the other side and climb the walls to the school roof. I doubted very much the architects and school district had this in mind either. The odd walls also gave a great opportunity for people to hide out of view from others, as well as secretly meet that special girl or boy in semi-secret without prying eyes. The window blinds were almost always closed, so it was the perfect hiding spot. I always gave the walls a wide proximity for just that reason… no need to just offer myself up for sacrifice!

“Shit!” was my first thought even as I was saying it out loud. The “Shit Kickers” had me once again in their claws and there was a good chance no one else would use this door for a good while this morning. My heart was in my throat. Pete, the athletic drug and alcohol receiver, thumped my head against the windowpane.

“Damn it, I wish you guys would stop doing that to my head!” I cursed an instant before I realized Pete was alone… bad move for Pete. I was about to give him a lesson about trying to pick a fight with a bear and not having back up. Before I could make my move, John dropped from above my head, a spider going in for the kill from the roof’s edge, waiting for me to be in just the right spot.

I collapsed under John’s weight to the snow-covered ground. My face shoved deep into the cold wet slush. John rolled off of me and grabbed my hair yanking my head up. These guys really loved to yank things. My face, being pulled up, spitting out a bloody mixture of mud and snow. The lump on my head was pounding and my skin burned red from cold and anger.

“You like that fat boy?” John grunted throwing my head back down and stood, leering over me. I rolled over and saw him spread his lips to reveal his perfect teeth. I peered at those teeth. I was amazed how fast his parents had gotten him a false one to replace the tooth he had previously knocked out. No one at school had ever talked about his missing tooth. It was like no one had even heard of the incident. It was pushed far under the secret carpet of lies. I always thought John’s friends knew better to say anything or start rumors about it. It was amazing how no one knew, but I knew, I would always know, and soon I would have a permanent reminder of it.

John stepped away, “Get up, fat fuck. I want you on your feet before I kick your ass.” he spat at me. Not just his words hit me, but a warm yellowish phlegm from his throat hit my cheek. It burned there. With a grin so wide the Cheshire Cat would shy away, he chuckled.

“Old assholes can learn new tricks!” I said as I started getting to my feet. I had more wise-ass remarks that I had been saving but I didn’t have time to say them.

“You afraid something might get squeezed or hurt again Jon’ boy?” I sneered with a widening smile. I was about to unleash my rage upon the two boys. I had so much anger. It had no problems surfacing once my control was relinquished. One would almost expect to see skin turn green and rip clothes like the Incredible Hulk, the image was not to far off from that reality.

John’s hand whipped out a long silvery object. I froze in one spot looking at the sharp knife just under his nose. Pete said something then. I thought it was a swear word but didn’t really hear it. I had more important matters at hand. Pete said something else and started running away. John stood there glaring at me with those fucking white teeth of his… minus one real one.

“You better kill me, John… you better do a good job too…” My breath was coming in hard puffs from his mouth and nostrils. “If you don’t, I will kill you. You hear me, John? Don’t you? With all that crap you call a brain bubbling in your head? What the hell did I ever do to you, John? WHAT? Can you even understand me you dumb fuck!”

I was talking as fast as my brain would let me. The knife was inches from my nose. John was looking in both directions, his paranoia was on edge. He just noticed Pete was nowhere to be found to back him up.

“What are you going to do, you ass? Make up your mind.” I seethed with anger and hate as my words poured from my lips. I had made up my mind. The minute John lunged at me, I would grab the knife, or try to block it with my hand. I would get sliced, sure, but I would survive.

“You are such a freak!” John spit out with intense hatred. His eyes were looking everywhere at once. The sweat froze in his hair and he stood there with a newly frosted hair-do. Steam rolled off his shoulders. His sweating was intense and you could see the decision hanging there in his eyes. The hate and disgust for me were plain as day and night on his face.

“I am a freak? ME? You dumb fuck! Look who is holding the knife! Look who needs all his friends to pick on the fat kid at school.” I yelled, teeth clenched with furry and my own hatred.

“And now you stand there, ready to what, you asshole? Stab me? Kill me and show the whole world how much one person that is different then you should be dealt with. What did I ever do to you, John? What?” My tears mixed with his own sweat and dripped to the snow-covered ground below. John’s arm dropped and the knife lay at his side.

All these things I can piece together and sort of remember. I said more things. I rambled on and on and I can’t put the memories together very well anymore. But the next part was hard to forget. The next part stayed with me forever. I remember questioning his motives. Pointing out how his mommy and daddy would be so disappointed in him when they found out.

“I hate you, you fat fuck!” John said as he brought the knife back up and threw himself at me. I stepped to the side and the knife slashed into my coat and through the t-shirt and flesh below. I fell to the ground and hit my head against the brick wall to my left. When I looked up, John and the knife were gone. No one would believe me if I said anything. I knew I had no case. I picked myself up and headed to the high school office to see what happened next.

“It look’s like you hit your head, Mr. Stafford, do you need an ice pack?” Mrs. Dean said to me in the most stuck up way possible.

“That would be great, thank you. Is Vice Principal Tucker in, or Principal Roberts?” I said in a low voice. I had yet to look at my arm or take my coat off to see the damage to myself. My head was spinning and I felt like getting sick.

“No, the Principal is gone for the week, but Vice Principal Tucker will be here soon. Here is a tardy pass for class.” I looked at the small square piece of paper in her hand was confused for a moment as to what it was. She was trying to make me leave for class.

“I’ll wait…” I started saying as Vice Principal Tucker walked into the office. His voice boomed like a marine as he saw me sitting there.

“Your not sick Mr. Stafford, get to class, you have missed enough school this year already, don’t you think?” I looked up at him and started speaking and was cut off again.

“If it’s that important, talk to me after school when I have more time.” His voice faded on the last part as he was walking into his office shutting the door. The secretary looked at me with a smirk on her face and was waiting for my next move. I got up and started leaving the office.

“Don’t forget your pass, Mr. Stafford?” Mrs. Dean said with a definite attitude and somehow, with much practice, I am sure, a perfect amount of sarcasm.

“Don’t need it,” I said as I walked out of the office and then out the front door of the school headed home. I arrived to find my mother passed out from being up three days in a row, and a very sound asleep, and hard-working stepfather as well.

“I need a vacation,” I said aloud to myself peeling off my jacket. My sleeve soaked with blood. I grabbed for the med kit and tried to close the wound as best he could. It no doubt needed ten or twelve stitches. I wrapped my arm up and went to my room… It was going to be a day of Nintendo instead of school.

I tried explaining what happened to the school counselor the next day. She did not believe me at all. That week she suggested to my parents, I go to the local “Rough Neck” school called Discovery. Hell, at least they got smoke breaks every two hours! I almost wished my parents had agreed to it. To this day, John has never had to take responsibility for his actions. I have quite the scar, from the knife cut. It doesn’t look so bad after twenty-seven years! –Laughs

 

The High School Diaries Part 3

TL Stafford.

This is part of a series of true stories I am writing about my high school years. You can find my first story, The Darkened Halls Of High School: A true story”, High School Diaries 1, here.

The High School Diaries 2

Advertisements

6 comments

    • yeah… Those people at my school. They weren’t all bad people. Though, their priorities and values and judgment were ass-backward! I really appreciate your sympathy. I feel embarrassed, lol… publishing these for the world to read, a little scared too i guess.

      • Not yours to feel shamed over. The truth is powerful and lays all blame on the perpetrators. We are just here to share our stories. The truth is not something to ever be embarrassed about.
        It does make one a little vulnerable to put things like this out there. I have been doing it for two years and I share my life because 1 i love to write and 2 secrets can absolutely destroy you. Especially if you are silenced by others. I won’t be silenced again so when I want to share parts of my life I do. It may be the past or the present. It took a lot of courage for you to put this out there. You should be really proud if anything

  1. Thank you… There is a lot of guilt and shame. I was a perpetrator myself. Violence, fighting. Not caring… If I even received a nasty look or small insult, I attacked. Sometimes quite violently. I forced myself to clean up and change at one point. I think people call it, hitting the bottom. All things I’m trying to put into words. It is very difficult. Thank you for your sympathy and saying I have courage. I appreciate it!! I think you sharing for so long is amazing! I know myself how hard it is. My wife has been trying to make me do this for many many years! lol… I think your courage and bravery to write it all out is amazing. You and several others peoples lives I have been reading about is inspiring and gives me hope. I should talk to someone, I know… One step at a time. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s