What Graduation?
My high school graduation sucked, primarily because I was not there. The day of graduation I was shipping out to Fort Benning, Georgia via Newark, New Jersey. That was all right because my schooling largely amounted to pain. The pain I speak of is emotional pain. The pain that made me wish I were dead on more than one occasion.
A History of Rejection
Toddlers Workshop
There is something about me that caused me to be different. I remember I was pre-preschool age when my mother put me in some sort of classes at the YWCA downtown. The play area was set below street level and I remember one day looking up and seeing her watching me, right after I was bullied off the slide.
Nursery School
Later she put me in this nursery school at a church in Highland Park. I only remember two things about that: once we made these cool colored flowers. They were composed of a wire frame and then dipped in some sort of plastic that stretched across the frame. Mine had different colors and I liked it for years after I had made it. Another time, we drew leaves. Mine was different than everyone else's because my leaf had a smiling face on it. In short, I don't recall much of a problem in nursery school, but I was only three (I suppose).
Kindergarten
Kindergarten was at the same church but in a different section. I remember nap time. I also remember the teacher who, while teaching time would say, "Two thirty. My tank is thirty." That always puzzled me because I didn't think it made sense. I still don't think it made sense. That poor pathetic teacher probably ruined the lives of thousands of children throughout her ignorance-fueled career. The other kids didn't like me in kindergarten. I remember being laughed at, and one child tripped me, sending my head into the side of an opened door, punching a hole in my forehead. I didn't have any friends.
Still Rejected
That trend continues until this day. I have no friends. I desperately want a friend, but there is some sort of problem. I don't know what it is either. We started going to church again a couple years ago, and I fully intended to make some friends, but the story is the same: no one like me. No one cares about me. I feel like if I had just one friend, my life would be so much better.
Right now I'm not going to finish going through all my experiences at school. Suffice it to say that at graduation time I had no friends. The only thing I ever liked was the Jr. ROTC, and my future sucked because I had caved in to my mother's demands that I go to Bob Jones University. I had nothing to look forward to. The recruiter picked me up at the house in the morning and took me to Newark. My parents could have taken me there, but they didn't. The only extent to which my mother cared was that I was headed to Bob Jones University where my life would be further scarred and ruined.
