Thursday, May 1, 2014

Bitching Out

Slit #1

This one is for you, nameless classmate.

Yeah, you. The one. The only.

I don’t think anyone else at school ever called me a dweeb as many time as you did: 3,074 times. Yes, I counted. What, is that something a dweeb, as you like to refer to me as, would do? Count the number of times he was bullied in school? The number of times he was called a colorful variety of words, some he didn’t even know existed (ass-tard?) instead of his name? Count the number of times he was kicked in the groin (56) just because he was walking towards you, with his head down hoping you wouldn’t notice him in the hallways?

Slit #2

This one is for you, nameless teacher.

Thank you for calling me out for not completing my homework. I was unable to solve those “simple” math equations you wouldn’t be able to solve yourself if it weren’t for the cheat-guide you’d bought from the book depot down the road from where I live (you didn’t know that, did you—PSYCH) because my drunken dad made me clean up his puke when he got home after “working late with a colleague” with lipstick on his collar (and trousers), while my mum just sat and stared out the window, the same thing she’s been doing for the past two years, ever since her own dad died, because now she didn’t have anyone to talk to about her adulterous husband.

Slit #3

This one is for you, nameless school headmaster.

I was standing outside of class because I hadn’t completed my homework. Not because I had verbally abuse someone (the way you verbally abused me). Not because I had slapped someone so hard, his lip started bleeding (the way you slapped me). Not because I had reached for the nearest wooden cane and beat the shit out of a little kid so bad, he couldn’t do let out a cry of pain because even that hurt him just as much as every blow with the cane (the way you beat the shit out of me).

Slit #4

This one is for you, nameless parent.

It’s not your fault. You deserved a better son. I’m sorry.

Ted Van Pelt | Flickr