In Which We Meet Me

High school started on my birthday, August 18. I felt a sense of self-confidence as I got myself lost in the crowded halls. So far no one has said significant words to me. I was glad to be left alone for a change.

I was bullied immensely in middle school. It was an agonizing three years of verbal and physical abuse from a lot of the students. Now those students are scattered across the campus of 557 students with a 30 students to 1 teacher ratio. I may be able to slide through without a problem for a while.

The high school students seemed more grown than the middle school students I had to deal with. The students here want to learn. They didn’t gossip, nor bully. This was my type of school.

I had Biology first period. Now, Biology is a sophomore class that let only ten freshmen in each semester. I got in based on being a good student in middle school in accordance with the teachers standards.

It went by languidly. I sat in between two R.O.T.C. Cadets who obviously did physical training without deodorant. Their stench was revolting. The teacher was duller than his hour and 15 minute lesson on the etymology of the word BIOLOGY. I was able to partially focus while I doodled on my one line note for biology.

The bell rang and I was off to my second class, Algebra 1. That was in the 300 building across the campus. It was a rush getting there on time. I plopped my a*s in the front right corner with the class of 45 students and waited for the teacher to arrive. 15 minutes later, she showed up, announced her credentials, handed us our assignment, and then walked out of the classroom. All in under a minute. What the f**k just happened?

The assignment was over what I learned in pre-algebra, so the 50 question test went by fast. 15 minutes from the bell, the teacher walked in, handed us our homework, and left again. And again, I thought, what the f**k.

The bell rang and I had lunch. Nothing special happened.

I went to my third class which was World Geography. I was assigned to sit in the sixth column ninth row. A bit far back for my taste, but that’s life, out of my control. I was next to a bulky stock guy who was obviously intentionally looking away. Was I wearing my food? Nope. A petite teacher walked in and stared the most “interesting” lecture on the etymology of the word GEOLOGY.

I soon tuned out the teacher’s overzealous lecture and started to doodle on my notes. The whole time I never noticed that bulky guy glancing towards me. When the bell rang, I didn’t have time to talk to him as he ran out faster than I could catch him.

My last class was English 1. It was a languorous class. Ask me to write and you can get a lot out of me, and I can comprehend reading on a high level. So, it went by with as much thought as lunch did.

I got home quickly and immediately started my homework on my bed. The silenced killed my already fried mind. I blasted a Depechmode song and laid back as I sang to ENJOY THE SILENCE. I saw my mom roll up outside my bedroom window. Her hands were full with my little sister crying. I had to put away my music because they believe it promotes violence.

All of the songs I bought I had to hide. All my Nightwish albums, the Within Temptation albums, and most importantly my Archangel album by Two Steps From Hell. I am allowed to have them; I just can’t listen to them in front of my little sister. So I listened to them when I am alone.

My mom comes barging in and calls me out on what I wore to school. I had a plain black tee shirt and light blue jeans on. I’ve seen worse in her closet when I was 12 years old. She calls for me to go and put away the dishes. I did and went back to my room.

I went back to my homework. Three minutes later, my dad drove up. He barged in to my room, called me out on what I wore, and told me to wash up for dinner. We had a steak with mashed potatoes and peas. I stomached through half of everything before I had to excuse myself.

My stomach was churning a harsh nausea. I can only settle it by sitting in a corner of the house and waiting it out. It was a long 3 hour wait before I could move again. I washed the dishes while my parents sat and watch kid shows with my little sister. They won’t let me hear a tale about a retired sailor telling his solemn story about sailing the seas, but lets her watch the gruesome mutilation between a cat and a mouse. I finished the dishes and headed into my room.

I finished my homework when my dad announced lights out.  I laid back an hour later and fell asleep an hour and a half later.

My name is Gregg Sanders. Call me Ghost, though. My life is this endless cycle of one routine. I hope one day it’ll break.