The Darkened Halls of High School: A True Story Part 2
The dark sky looked down at me as I stepped off the porch into the cold and bitter wind that only the lakes of Michigan know 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 from all of our financial woes. She had a huge breakfast waiting for me when my shower was through. As I stepped out of the steamy bathroom, I was met with the aroma of bacon and eggs; my mouth watered. 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.
Ok, maybe it’s only five degrees below zero and there is only two inches of snow. BIG DEAL, MAKE UP YOUR MIND I shouted to no one in particular on my walk. I laughed amusing myself and pondered the two weeks of freedom since the incident in the hallway at school. None of the “Shit Kickers” had even glanced my way. It made me nervous.
"Maybe I should skip the next few days till the weekend," I said to the sidewalk. I could see the school now, the steam from the boilers shot into the air like a rocket ship. All I could do is walk and think of my impending doom and what was for lunch, of course.
"Maybe I should skip the next few days till the weekend," I said to the sidewalk. I could see the school now, the steam from the boilers shot into the air like a rocket ship. All I could do is walk and think of my impending doom and what was for lunch, of course.
"What door should I choose today?" I thought aloud again as my eyes marveled at the clouds rolling up into the air.
I think maybe the back doors today. I have been seen too many times this week going in from the side. My thoughts raced. They always matched 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.
You see, 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; it was 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 also 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 being shoved deep into the cold ground. John rolled off of me and grabbed my hair and yanked. My face popped up, spitting out a bloody mixture of mud and snow. The lump on my head was now pounding and my skin burned red from cold and anger.
"You like that fat boy?" John grunted as he 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 I had previously knocked out. No one at school had even 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 back away from me, "Get up, fat fuck. I want you on your feet before I kick your ass." He spat at me with a grin so wide the Cheshire Cat would shy away.
"Old assholes can learn new tricks!" I said putting the emphasis on "can". 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 a rage upon the two boys; an anger that had no problems surfacing once my control was unleashed. One would expect to see my skin turn green and rip my clothes like the Incredible Hulk, the image was not too 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 my 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 my 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. Even as I write this I know I said much more to him. Pleas mixed with insults. I was scared and pissed at the same time.
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. He took a step back now, the knife getting further away from scaring my face or blinding me.
“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 and block it with my hand. I would get sliced, sure, but I would survive.
“You are such a freak!” John spit out of his mouth with intense hatred. His eyes were looking everywhere at once. The intense cold of the air was freezing the sweat in his hair and he stood there with a newly frosted hair-do. His stare was intense and you could see the decision hanging there in his eyes. The hate and disgust for me was plain as night and day 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 spat with fury 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 than you should be dealt with? What did I ever do to you John? What?” My tears mixed with my sweat and dripped to the snow covered ground below. Johns arm dropped and the knife lay at his side.
“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, especially with a star athlete that all the teachers loved. I picked myself up and headed to the high school office to see what would happen next.
It looks 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 with puzzlement. She was trying to make me leave for class.
I’ll wait…” I started saying as VP Tucker walked into the office. His voice boomed like a marine as he saw me sitting there.
“You're 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 in to 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 hard-working stepfather as well.
“I need a vacation.” I said aloud to myself. I peeled off my jacket in the bathroom and found my arm sleeve soaked with blood. I grabbed for the med kit and tried to close the wound as best I 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 nineteen years!
You weren’t alone in your darkened high school halls.
The torture continued, many moments before this event and many after. I have written some of them out, just to get them out. All this because I was different then the “normal people”, different from what society says I should be, different because I was overweight. Maybe some of you can relate and see that even then, you weren’t alone.
Click Here to read about other people's experiences with bullying.
Join the Conversation:
Please share your feedback, experience, and stories on bullying.Most Active
Recent Topics
