Once_Bitten,_Twice_Shy

I think I’ve lost it. I think I’ve lost my mind. I can no longer eat, no longer sleep. How am I supposed to deal with something like that' First they spray paint my bag, and not just any bag. It was a bag my mother had to work her limbs off to buy for me. Now they’ve taken my dog, Benny, and threw him off a two story building. Luckily he is still alive but with his two front legs broken. Even if after he is healed, he would have to live the rest of his life with arthritis in his forelimbs. I just can’t take it anymore. Why me' Is it because I’m … different' Ever since I came from China to boarding school in Australia, it has been hell for me. The straight A’s that got me here have long gone. I go home feeling numb. Yes numb, it used to be melancholy but now it’s just … nothing. My mother’s inert words: ‘Son it’s okay, just don’t worry about them and focus on your studies’, are meaningless. It’s just not that easy to ignore when you’re in a position like me. They are in my face every single second when I’m at school. And at home' We’ll all I can think about is the hatred surging beneath my skin. I feel … helpless. Like I am a broken winged bird, stuck within the branches of a single eucalyptus tree, with nothing but baren desert around me. Upon my initial arrival at school, everyone was welcoming. I mean everyone. Of course these greetings were all superficial as I soon came to realize. It all started during my first English advanced class. *** I walked into the classroom. Everyone was secretly laughing. Even the row of quiet girls at the back were giggling. What bugged me, was that they were all looking directly at me. I walked to my table and noticed my open bag … it was missing something. Roger had his back faced toward me as he arched over to secretly read something. “… and this is how I met the girl online. The only one I have remained loyal to after all these years.” He smirked as he read a line to the group of girls from the diary. My diary. I immediately felt my blood boil. “Give it back to me Roger” He turned his head and looked at me with the corner of his eye. “Give what back' I’m busy” “My dairy” “Later”. He turned to face the girls and continued reading. My fists clenched uncontrollably. I couldn’t control it any longer. I lunged at him clipping his lower jaw. He grabbed my shirt as I punched him again. He gripped my shirt. “Stop. Now” His words meant nothing to me and I continued lunged at him. I saw a change in his facial expression. His eyes narrowed. In retaliation, he flung his fist at my face. The impact tore my lip, causing blood to rush everywhere. I was dazed as he wrapped his arm around my neck and put me in a headlock. The teacher walked in. “Boy’s cut it out. Now!”, the brawny Ethiopian middle ages man grabbed us by the collar of our shirts and flung us apart. As I retained my right state of mind I looked around, to see a myriad of eyes staring at me in silence. *** It was from that day that I knew I was alone. Noone ever said ‘hi’ to me again. Everywhere I walked people stared at me. It was as if I was from out of space. I was a moving target. I was the joke of the tip of everyone’s tongues. I am forced to put up with this every day, the staring, the laughing. These pranks became a daily occurrence. I feel like I’m about to explode. Never have I felt this way. Sometimes I think about killing myself, and I wonder; would they care' The friends I had weren’t real, heck they weren’t even there in the first place. I have no one to talk to, no place to belong.