Well here I was. Standing at the door to reality. Between me and the world of dreams there was only a shimmering screen of glass. My nose touched the center and ripples spread to the edges of the glass. I pushed my head through – the sensation like going through a curtain of water, yet not really wet. I stepped through the glass into this wonderful world…

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Source – Wikipedia

The alarm woke me from my dream and brought me back to my life. My horrible, horrible life. I didn’t want to go to school, but I knew that I had to. I don’t really see the point of school…why should I go somewhere where my prime role is to be a target, a target of abuse, insults and rocks, sticks and other light projectiles? What was the point of going somewhere where anything that was good in my life was taken away from me?

 I wandered down to the kitchen and sat myself down at the table – pulling the box of generic corn flakes over to me pouring them into a bowl. I sat and munched my cornflakes with vengeance, with each flake being something different which I hated. I finished my breakfast and reluctantly picked up my bag and wandered out the door; ignoring my mother’s pleas for me to get my hair out of my eyes.

As I arrived at school and walked through the gates I was greeted by a spit ball to the eye and a burst of laughter. I wiped my eye and walked on, ignoring the other kids. It wasn’t worth retaliating, they weren’t worth it. As I began to wonder how long it would be until the bell would ring and I would be able to get into the safety of class, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

Turning around, I saw my friend. She looked as beautiful as ever and all of my anger seemed to just disappear. I don’t know what it was about her that made me enjoy spending so much time with her, was it her light brown hair that hung lightly on her shoulders or her sweet voice that sounded like birds signing? She just seemed to make my days worthwhile, making the sun shine even on the rainiest day. None of the other people in my class could work out why she would even hang around me, for it was like a butterfly being friends with a dung beetle.

As we walked around the corner to our classroom, we were greeted by a lovely group of boys. They initiated this greeting by kicking me in the ankles and then pushing me into a wall. As I slumped down to the floor, they then began to chat up my friend. She obviously didn’t like it, and neither did I. But what could I do? I am a pacifist and I have less muscle than a newborn baby? Luckily the bell went and they left her alone.

I got up and tried to walk as normally as I could over to her; my ankles sending waves of pain to up my body with each step. I could see the concern on her eyes as she watched me, so I tried to stop the pain from showing on my face. I could see how much she cared for my, just from the look in her eyes, and this just made me hurt more, although now emotionally not just physically.

I didn’t want to burden her with any pain but the amount that I got bullied took this right out of my control. I loved her too much to leave her but maybe leaving her would be the best thing I could do. I didn’t want to put her through all of the pain that I have to go through, and I want her to be happy. She would be better off with another guy, for what am I but a rotting carcass lying on the savannah?

Class was now, six hours of incredible boredom, only brightened by the ‘pi to my r squared, the variable to my experiment, the metaphor for my noun, the capital of my country, the power to my circuit and the notes to my musical score.’