Days of Great Change

I am tired of my life. Today, I awoke to nothing three hours early from 7 A.M. with no life in my body. I laid in limbo. I forced my body to animate.

After I sat up, I turned on my MP3 and listened to HATE ME by Blue October. The mirror across me showed a shell. One that doesn’t fit me. I cried.

I heard my parents leave earlier than usual, so now I can show what is on the inside. I dug out my Nightwish IMAGINAERUM shirt, the black Carbon jeans, and tossed on my Converse ALL STAR shoes. The chill fall air sent a shock up mu spine, so I went back and got my black Affliction jacket buried within my closet. The jacket was a size too big, but so soft.

The other students were silent around me. I broke the silence with a few hello’s and Hi’s. I don’t know why, but I suspected something was wrong. Boy, I was right.

Apparently my past caught up with me. The bullies I had back in middle school instilled the fear that I was a homosexual freak. I knew this because there was a post on the bulletin board.

I punched through the glass display and ripped it of the board. I didn’t noticed, but my hand was cut up and bleeding immensely. It wasn’t until I was in the principal’s office, with the paramedic tending to my wounds, that I realized the severity and the pain I was in.

“Now, Mr.Sanders,” she started, “I know you’re frustrated at this situation, but you should have just came to us in the first place. We would’ve removed it and see who had posted it. I’m afraid, now, I’ll have to suspend you.“

“What?” I growled under my breath.

“I understand that it was a reaction…”

“No. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t raise your voice. Two Days suspension to cool off.”

“What about the person who posted this?”

“We will do all we can to find this person, but you need to cool off first. I will call your parents to come get you.”

The paramedics spoke up and said, “I need to take him to the hospital to get stitches.”

“Fine then.” I walked out with the paramedic into the ambulance. It was a short drive to the hospital.

I was met there with my parents. Both of them looked pissed off. Is it because of what I did, or what I was wearing? No,It was probably both.

I saw a familiar  face wheeled by on a bed. It was Sam. His face was black and blue. Looks to me like he was beaten. I couldn’t say anything. Overwhelming sadness stricken me. I don’t know why.

I was released two hours later with two stitches in my hand. The Ace wrap that I got made it look like I punched a person and not glass. My parents were speechless and so was I. I went to my room and just downed the world away in Lacuna Coil’s VISUAL KARMA album.

Here it starts to enlighten

There’s a frame I can’t change that I just have to watch again

Reminder

Repressed inside me, it keeps repeating

Life is so short

Close to the edge of another back door

Life is so sure!

…Life will be ready to twist up your world

The two day suspension was a good idea. My parents bitched about my attitude, and then dragged me to a psychiatrist. After one session I was cut clear on what was happening. I am becoming violent because of my pent up rough life. I’m finally fighting back.

My parents had to stop their overbearing behavior based on the doctor’s order. I finally was able to express myself without repercussion. Boy did I take full advantage of that.

I showed them lyrics to my favorite song, and they were shocked. I told them about the artwork on a lot of clothes that I bought without their knowledge, my thoughts on the shows that my sister watches, and I got the house mostly to myself during the day.

There was one thing on my mind that I just couldn’t kick. It kept me leery about everything that has happened. I controlled my anger in middle school very well. What set me over the edge? And why was Sam hurt?

Why do I care about Sam? I don’t know him well enough to care, and yet I do. I closed my eyes and saw him. My subconscious played a horrible sight of him getting beaten. I awoke to a cold sweat. Why?