I broke down crying afterschool when I saw I got 40% in my English exam.
The morning I arrived, 10 minutes late and without warning, I was given an essay. I thought, "Hey, such a nice day. It won’t matter if I fail this entirely, so heh, *scribble scribble scribble*"
On the top of my essay plan, I wrote "I’m screwed. Screwed like a whore on crack."
Still, I was fortunate because nobody watched me cry. I guess what pushed it over the edge was Sam, who was walking past.
He always has the collar of his blazer up, just so I put it back down. It bothers me when collars are up, you see. Anyway, he was walking down the stairs, and called out
I tried to vault the railing and land on the platform below, but I kind of stuffed up, major time. I just about fell off and landed on the concrete, scrambelled to my feet and jumped on top of him, forcing his collar down and pinning him to the wall.
"Just keep your fricking collar down, or I will kill you. *shoves down stairs*"
Then I went back up to my books which were resting on a broken chair, leaned against it and sobbed uncontrollably for a while at how much of a failure I was. Alas, sometimes life doesn’t go all that well for me.
Heh heh. Mr Watson was pretty mean.
I thought to myself: Hey, I’m having such a shitty day, news of my essay will surely cheer me up! Even if it’s bad, it won’t really matter. How very wrong I was.
"How did I do?"
"Don’t remember. Oh wait, very bad."
"Terrible, I knew it" I smiled.
"I would even go as far to say terrible."
"Appalling, without doubt." My heart had just fallen a few more notches.
40%, ha. His comment was rather cruel too. Completely missed the question, did basically very poorly.
In response to Chazwozzer, yeah, it’s hard to get out of those kind of moods without a pick-me-up, but nobody realised I was feeling capable of murder. When Sam left, I fantasized killing him the next time I saw his collar up. I’m pretty unpredictable. When I’m in a normal mood, that’s just being erradic and peculiar. I don’t like following the norm, being labelled as a certain type of person who’s part of the mediocrity. If I’m labelled anything, let it be weird, a freak, or a Shibi.
Anyways, you might want to just disregard a lot of everything I’ve said. I just get close to snapping when I’m put under intense pressure. One year 11 did walk up behind me while I was kneeling against the chair and trying to control my breathing.
"You okay man?"
"I’m not the one kneeling against a chair here."
After a moment, I asked "How are you?"
"Well good on ya mate." He left a while later. Drying my tears (I’m not a pussy to be human, all right?), I got a drink and trumped off to chorale, checking along the way if it was obvious what state I was in. I eventually got back into a good mood over the hours that followed.
Until Eugene silenced me, that is.
"You really can’t tell when someone doesn’t want to talk to you, do you?"
"It’s very hard for me to," I answered quietly.
"Learn!" I didn’t talk for another half hour, settling myself with ideas about letting people forget the sound of my voice and never talking to anyone unless they wanted something from me first. Anyways, got out of that mood after an extensive period of time, and I’d just like to apologise to Patrick, Sam, and anyone else who is perturbed by this entry. I’m sorry, but I’m human too, albeit one who’s eccentric and despises the actions of humanity (myself included at times). Man, I can really be a total jerk one minute, then offering my cheek (as the saying goes) the next. In other words, asking whoever I’ve annoyed to hit me as retribution, but very rarely do they have the heart to. Nobody’s taken up my offer to kill me either. I don’t get jokes very well.