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The Life Of "Mars".
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2016-11-18 10:55:29 (UTC)

The Eighth Year

Friday 18th November, 2016

Year eight to me was a weird time with an abundance of good and bad things. It was the final days of my flamboyant self, which was soon replaced by a shy child who was fearful and destructive.

William moved to a class where it was mostly full of the cool popular kids of our year. The good looking, funny and admired kids. There, and I don't blame him, he found his place with them and soon we became no more. Stella I was done with regardless, I don't even know what class she went to and I didn't think anything of it. Aria went with her too, but I didn't really care about her either. Emily moved schools, she was more friends with Stella and Aria too so I don't think I would of had anything to do with her anyway. The only person who I still think I would of talked to is Ireland but she moved schools as well. Everybody who I knew was gone. It was another fresh start for me.

But let's take it back a bit before me and William fully separated. I was put in Classroom One with Misses Eve. I didn't really have any friends in there for well all of term one. I would try to hang out with William during break, but he slowly became more and more attached to his new friends in his class then to me. And I didn't really hit it off with his new friends, so it felt awkward with me being there until it got to the point where I decided not to go with him, and just be by myself for most of the time. It was depressing. I had no one.

There was a kid in my class who I despised too, his name was Jonti. I hated him for all the wrong reasons too. He wasn't mean to me, quite the opposite at times, but I hated him because he was friends with everyone. He got along with almost everybody in our class, almost everybody in our year. I was jealous. It's silly I know, but his immense happiness made me dislike him. He wasn't trying to, but I almost felt like he was rubbing it in my face. He tried talking to me a few times and I think I gave him some snide remarks or was just a cunt overall.

I no longer looked forward to school in the mornings like I once did, rather I began seeing it as another undesired chore. I think for the first time in years I began lying to my mom, saying that I was constantly sick to avoid school because at least at home I found comfortable solitude in the escape of my video games and other similar passions.

At the end of term one we had this little house sport event in the swimming pool. Y'know kids would swim for their house and the rest of us would watch and cheer. That day William was with me and James. We talked normally and I think we somehow got onto the topic of what we would do if zombies started attacking the school right then and there. Our plan was to go to the P.E shed and grab the bats, even though we forgot to add the variable that it would of been locked with a padlock like it normally is. Not to mention we weren't the most fit bunch so getting there in itself would be a whole challenge in itself. Anyway that isn't really important.

At some point I started getting harassed by a group of these other kids. I guess they were year eight, but they appeared to be older. I can't remember the reason for why they were doing it, but I knew I was on the verge of tears; but I held it in. William tried to comfort me saying "just ignore them" and I tried, but I was kind of disappointed he didn't otherwise stick up for me. For some reason James chimed in with them. They were mostly just calling me a midgit and stuff along those lines. I was still pretty sensitive so that in itself hurt me, but later afterwards they approached me. I tried to walk away. I tried to walk past them but I was surrounded, and I was their captive like a lion in a zoo. I became their toy for their own sadistic pleasure, I was pushed shoved and booted to the ground my gut began to compress into a shrived mess as my insides were kicked in. They left laughing as if conquering some hard challenge. I don't know what I deserved for that. An old friend of mine from primary school called Braden saw part of an unfold. Rather then stepping in or even getting a teacher, he saw and just walked off. I was truly alone. The strength that I took not to break down in the middle of class was far beyond anything that I possessed at the time, somehow I managed.

When I got home I didn't tell my mom the full story of what happened to me at school. I just broke down, I cried uncontrollably for at least an hour. I wallowed in my own self pity and disgust for those around me. I had always been a target of bullying. I was an easy target, I was too short to stand up for myself physically and too sensitive to stand up for myself emotionally. In the past it was easier because despite any bullying, I had a mass of friends who would be nice and support me. I was a small fragile child who was still learning about the grey, beautifully majestic and cruel world that we inhabit. I started asking her, "Why me mom? Why me? Why are people always so mean to me? Why can't I be left alone?"

I didn't know what type of answer to expect, I didn't expect one really. But I got one. One that began the path of my psychological downfall. My mom sat me down calmly, almost excitedly, like she was about to reveal a long kept secret. I listened eagerly for an answer. Please, understand that when I was told this I was an emotional, gullible wreck. Any answer would of sufficed me at the time if it gave me comfort in my suffering.

She told me that I had a father, who was my "real" dad. His name was Greg. As well as another person, who was like Greg's best friend and like a second father to me, called Jason. And that they had been looking out for me my entire life. They were leaders of a gang supposedly, a powerful one, the strongest in New Zealand, and the kids who would bully me were the children of rival gang members. In New Zealand, gang culture isn't that foreign of an idea. It's common actually, so the idea at the time didn't seemed too far fetched to me. To me it was plausible. I mean why else would I have been bullied so relentlessly? It made me feel better too. For the first time in my entire life I held a huge feeling of well, importance. I found happiness again. Growing up without a dad further fueled my fantasy of this idea. The idea of not just one dad, but two, two male adult figures loving me was nurturing. The idea of being wanted and sort after filled me in a euphoric frenzy that any thought of rationality or reasoning was thrown out the window. I believed her. And she seemed to be overzealous about it to say the least. I found a true feeling of happiness in which the likes I hadn't felt in awhile.

My life felt like it was on track again too after that point. I made a friend in my class called Brodie, and then a kid called Kahm, who later became my best friend. I made friends with girls too. There was Georgia, Summer, Paige and Kirsty. I no longer felt ill will towards Johti. We didn't really get along after, but that's not to say we disliked each other. I was at peace. I began looking forward to school again. I stopped feeling "sick".

Not really something to brag about, but I fought a kid called Blaine twice and won both times. My confidence was back in full force, so rather then cowering I stood up for myself and won and set an example to everybody else that I wouldn't stand for the lashes of tyrannical bullying anymore.

I preformed a speech on stage towards the end of the year on the topic of peer pressure in front of the entire school that I had crafted with no planning in under forty minutes, and it won. I won. I was offered to go to Wellington to represent the school in a speech competition. While they would of payed for the flight trip, the expenses of a place to stay were our own. We couldn't afford it sadly, so the second place winner went instead. My confidence was boosted even further, for days I had kids approaching me telling me how funny my speech was. I felt accepted again. I was no longer a small kid that everybody bullied. I was almost somewhat popular and liked.

We practiced for prom, my confidence was still at it's peak. I wasn't afraid to ask girls to dance with me, although I asked the ones who I was mostly friends with; the fact that they didn't hesitate to say no made me feel so cool. Heh. I even had a few asking me to dance. Me! Too bad it was probably awkward for them soon after because I was shorter then them, didn't know the moves at all for any of the dances, and had a really strong grip to where I would not lightly and majestically pull them across the room like a fragile feather, but tug on them and drag them everywhere. Smooth, smooth...

Within the last few weeks, things began to change with mom and her ideas. The entire year while all this good stuff was happening my mom thought that people were trying to insult her and get at her. That they'd "get smart" to her. I've never heard an official diagnosis of what my mom's schizophrenia consists of but I'm certain a part of it is paranoia. Since it's a common trait I guess. Anyway, she believed these people were getting smart to her; and that they wanted to take Greg and Jason away from here. Typically she thought it was girls getting smart to her. I never really thought of it until she started thinking my friends at school who were female were getting smart to her.

I eventually asked my mom how she spoke to my two dads, as I had never seen them in person or her on the phone. She said that she spoke to them through a satellite where they would put their thoughts into her head and communicate through there. She started talking to herself out loud from there. I began hearing all the things that she would say. I drew the line there. Despite how much I maybe would of liked for these dads to exist. For me to be important and sort after, I was a regular old kid. And I then remembered my moms past schizophrenia, and knew what it was from there. Still... when she wasn't raving about these people coming after her she was a good kind loving mom who looked after me. I was always well fed and cleaned. Our house was clean too. And she otherwise seemed so happy... she had an everlasting infatuation with Greg and Jason. She truly felt in love with them to the point where she would begin crying tears of joy. I couldn't take that away from her. She just wanted love. I saw no reason to take that away from her. So I continued to play along with her delusions.

The rest of that year felt it got worse. For the first time things got dreadfully violent, well they didn't really but I still heard it all the same, and it scared me. As a punishment to these people getting smart they'd only ever really get smacked or punched by "our team" which never really bothered me. This time, I heard her talking about killing someone. I was horrified with the amount of ease that my mom said that with. "Nah, just kill her who cares." That scared me. But, she still seemed so happy otherwise. I couldn't say anything. I wouldn't.

Like I said, I try and live for others. My happiness doesn't matter if it means somebody I care about can have theirs.

4:44am, I'm supposed to meet up with Hayley tomorrow so I've set a lot of alarms so I should try to go to bed now.

Peace, -Mars.