My Life As A Book

Chapter 2

Okay, so now I am 5. My first day of kindergarten at South Street in Fitchburg is right around the corner and I'm super excited to finally be out of preschool. I'm so enthused about the fact that all my hours of playing school (where I insisted on being teacher) were finally about to be paid off. Tragically, kindergarten wasn't all it was chalked up to be. I enjoyed the school part of it, and flaunted my reading skills frequently. But this was my first time being bullied. I would go out onto the playground at recess, and everyone would run away. I would go into corners and just cry for the half hour that we were outside playing. Nobody wanted to be my friend. I hated recess. And to this day I remember all the names of the people who had tortured me like that. I hated them with all I had. The people who called me stupid and ugly every chance they got, and especially the ones who would pull on my hair during snack time as they walked by. The ones who made me believe them sometimes, the ones who crushed every hope I had for friendship. The ones who thought I was a teacher's pet, and I was, but only because I felt that my teacher was the only one who understood me. My first teacher became my best friend, my go-to, the only one who I could tell about this and expect them to do something about it. Outside of school was nothing more than going home to the everlasting company of my cat Pumpkin. I loved him so much. Yeah, I enjoyed spending time with my brothers, but animals were different. They don't judge you when you speak, heck, I'm pretty sure they don't even listen, but it didn't matter then. And it never would. At this point I was finally understanding my brothers, and the way they acted all the time. Brandon, then about 7 or 8, had finally started talking. Before he would just scream and tug on your clothes to get your attention. I didn't know before then that he was autistic. I thought it was normal to not talk until then, I thought I was some sort of superhero or something. We were all so happy for him, and so proud. I remember my mother burst into tears when she heard him. She had worked so hard to get him where he was. I found out later that my brother Jacob was autistic as well, but less severe. He had already been talking for a while, around the same time I had. It was then I realized how different all people were.

Oh gosh, when I was six. I just about cried every day. First grade was rough. I tried to go back into my kindergarten classroom instead of having a new teacher. My heart sank when she told me I didn't go there anymore. I liked my new teacher, just not as much as I liked my first one. School was okay, too. I just didn't have any friends. I tried to fit in wherever I could, I just couldn't find where I was wanted. Bullying was constant, I even had acquired 2 new bullies. There was a girl and a boy, brother and sister, and they were on my bus. The girl, who I won't release her name for privacy purposes, was a year older than I. I never actually knew what grade she was in, she stayed back a few times, and never told me when I asked. For a while I thought she was in second grade, but that was debunked a week later. She still remains a mystery. Her and her brother would say so many things to me, that I would sit on the bus, in tears, with my hands clamped over my ears. I hated going to school. I tried to talk to my mother about it, and she listened, but promptly took me over to their house to talk to my oppressors. I found out, plot twist, that the girl had actually wanted to be my friend. Her brother was just a jerk. She sure had a weird way of showing her interest in my companionship. We later became friends, but weren't very close. I guess you could say she was a fake, but hey, she was all I had. Besides my cousin, of course. My cousin Kaitlyn has her own story. A very sad one. At one point she came to live with us because she hated the situation she was in, and that's when we clicked. We became best friends. At the time she was a year older than me, and was so sad all the time. I never knew why until she told me her story a month ago. (Maybe that's what inspired me to write this, idk).

Jumping right into me as a seven year old here. Um..let's see..I started second grade. My least favorite of all my school years. Why? Because my teacher hated me. Not lying, she really did. We had this thing in class where we would have to write all of the numbers up to 1000 in word form. This happened only on Fridays, where you had the option of either just playing with some dolls in the corner or writing this. Obviously, I chose the dolls. I occasionally did the math thing, and when I did I got a lot done. We had to go up and check at the end of class. I would typically have 100 done, but apparently it wasn't enough for her. She would always scold me saying things like 'you can do better than this' or 'I expect a lot more next time'. Like lady, you're lucky I even put in the effort to do any of it. Honestly. At the end of the year, there's a pizza party thing I heard was really fun. I didn't go becahse I had 50 numbers left. My conclusion was that my teacher hated me. Other people started warming up to me, getting used to me I guess, and I let my guard down. About 6 months into the year, I was happy again. Now let us go back to the dolls on Fridays. Some jerk who I don't remember the name of, he obviously hated me. He used to verbally harrass me, throw my backpack at me, etc. One day he cut off the hair on ine of the dolls I was using and ran up to the teacher and tild her it was me. And just like that, I was banned from my only escape: selfplay on Fridays. And yet, I still didn't do much of my math (lol). Okay, so this kid made me cry. I sat myself down at my desk and cried silently into my hands. The teacher came over and yelled at me, which made me tear up even further. I don't know why, but I just have this emotional thing with people yelling at me.
These kinds of things happened often, and I brought it up so much that my mother decided that we were going to move. Have a fresh start. Before that happened, I went to Disney. And y'all know how fun that is so I'm not going to say anything about that. The day after we got back from our trip was the day we left. We were moving to Ashburnham. Maybe this would be the second chance I so rightfully deserved.