They didn’t know me. This was a new school. A new town.
Mother had to move us here. IT’s not like we had a choice.
And the kids here.They didn’t know me. But they didn’t like me.
They cursed me. They said horrible things about my mother. She wasn’t a whore like they said. She wasn’t screwing the principal, like they said. I wasn’t a screw up, or a loser, or gay and I didn’t like sucking Mr. Chamber’s…you know!
They called me dickwad or faggot.
I took a good beating from Kyle Rosweld today.I thought about each blow as I broke into his house, struck him in the head and tied him to the radiator. I exited the house, not looking back.
I pulled out dad’s old Zippo, as I made my way to the side of the house, crouching by the basement’s open window. Inside were the gas cans I’d left behind. Laundry laid out on the floor nearby. I tossed the zippo and the laundry caught first amidst the cans of gas.
Perhaps he should have gotten to know me first before putting a beating on me.
I whispered, “And my name is Charlie!”