[ I thought I was making a fresh start…]
You could say I've lived the most boring life in the world, I feel like I grew up around little freaks and wasn't any better than them, especially having been under them.
*flash back
A step into the past
My mother, a woman undoubtedly very beautiful and smiling, I think, I believe, perhaps… I don't really remember anymore, I can't do it anymore.
Mother: Heresy! Come and greet our guests.
At the time, I must have been around 6-7 years old when I met them.
He had the look of a delinquent, a malicious gaze, and a forced smile.
Mother: Come on, come closer, don't be shy, pulling me to her side. I'd like you to meet Albert, the son of my friend here. You'll be going to school together from now on. You'll pick him up every morning before you go to school, okay?
I nodded in agreement and moved away from her. My hands were in my pockets.
– (Why do I have to deal with this Albert? I don't even know him, he's already annoying me.)
She always did too much, I'd like to shout it at her, I don't need company, I don't need support, I'm not sick, I haven't become lonely, why can't I be quiet, distant without you seeing me as crazy, telling me I'm going crazy.
Anyway, it wouldn't have changed anything, since we did all of primary school together, every day was a struggle and I quickly had a reason to hate him.
Every morning before leaving, my mother would always give him my lunch so that he could "keep" it and give it to me at the break, in order to solidify our "friendship," but he didn't understand it that way since he always gave me half of my meal, which he had shared with his friends and which he had given back to me at the end of the break quite naturally.
I never replied and didn't touch those leftovers; I really hate having to talk because every time I was angry and tried to speak alone, tears and a trembling voice would come out, showing me to be even more vulnerable as I exploded with anger.
So I decided to address the source of the problem, my mother, but as always and obviously, she didn't believe me and thought I just wanted to get rid of a "sincere friend" to isolate myself once again.
Mother: You can't go on like this, telling lies about your friend to distance yourself from him, HAAA, a long sigh of despair. What am I going to do with you? Where is my son, the one everyone wanted? Why don't you go back to how you were before? At least look a little like your brother.
– MOTHER, I'm not lying to you,... Because... Because, on the verge of tears. I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WITH HIM ANYMORE.
Silence
– hérèse .
She said simply, pinching the bridge of her nose
– Yes, Mother
– disappears from my sight before I get angry.
–..... But mother….
She glared at me with one of those looks that only she possessed.
- GOOD.
The next day was much worse, he didn't even give me back the leftovers or even my bag, and I was beaten up and extorted by my wonderful group of friends.
I was fed up, I couldn't take it anymore, nobody was on my side and the adults saw us as children.
So we fought, even though no one won. I don't really remember how it happened, but I confronted his group.
But that only made things worse, since they quickly "reconciled" us.
"He's your friend, he must have forgotten, he's just teasing you, it's nothing serious, stop being so mean to others," our teacher sighed.
Albert was right behind her with his group; I could clearly see him holding back laughter.
"He doesn't want to talk to me anymore just because of 'that'," said Albert.
My blood ran cold.
–.....
"Just that," those words echoed endlessly in my head, over and over again. Was I exaggerating? I wanted to know. Was I dramatizing everything? I wanted to get my hands on it, to pinpoint what was frustrating me and giving me this headache.
And then all this story passed and years went by until my last year of primary school, things had evolved but not me, it would have been too easy, I had become withdrawn and frustrated, hardly speaking anymore, had frequent memory lapses, and also that woodlouse Albert, Fate did everything in place so that we would not miss any classes together, he had grown up like all the others and as his "gang" had grown even more, my problems followed too, he never left me alone and always found an opportunity to push me to the limit and on top of that there was the son of our teacher, a close friend of my mother.
But on that "day", all my frustration, anger, anxiety and headaches exploded; it was the last straw.
Unfortunately, that day, like every day, in the row of "intelligent" students, which gathered more idiots, yes, it was indeed the only class in which a teacher separated her students by order of intelligence, and me, being "close" even though I didn't need to, I ended up in the first row in the first row with her son right next to her desk, next to us she called them the row of "attentive averages", next to them "those who have potential and can do better" and the last one she ignored and called the "stupids".
I remember I didn't have my lunchbox and therefore no water, as usual, but I couldn't wait any longer to hydrate, especially since our teacher had left a while ago to sort out some issues with our files. So I turned to the row next to me to ask for a bottle. After two long minutes of asking, I was finally rescued by some "idiot" who kindly passed his bottle through the rows to me.
But as soon as I arrived in my row, it was requisitioned by the mama's boy right next to me, thinking he had the right, he took it upon himself to open the bottle and empty it in front of me with a smile on his lips and shook the bottle to amuse his gallery, supported by Albert who was slapping me on the shoulder in fits of laughter, my whole row was in total fits of laughter.
I believe that it was at that precise moment that I stopped using my brain because when I grabbed that wooden cloth lying on the teacher's desk and gave it the first blow, the feeling of well-being that came through me as I listened to the bones of her nose cracking prevented me from stopping, again and again, I wanted to hear them break, that light fresh wind that freed my shoulders, I wanted to feel it again.
"STOP! YOU'VE GONE CRAZY!" Albert yelled, lunging at me.
I snapped his tongue with my elbow and made him taste a smack in the face.
– HHAAAAA WHAT?
The class was in tears and in crisis and was running away.
The teacher ran in a panic when she saw her students fleeing, she rushed directly towards us, her hands trembling, she grabbed me when she saw I was covered in blood but I quickly pushed her aside because after all it wasn't my blood, she took her son in her arms and comforted him before even noticing Albert's bloody eye, she instinctively turned towards me, the black of her eyes was dilated, it was magnificent, she wanted to confront me but at the sight of me, a smile on her lips, she couldn't help but give me two good slaps and send me back towards the administration.
– GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM
After this accident I spent two weeks on my knees in front of the whole class and was moved to the row of "beasts" it was like this until the day of the exams, I was happy to finally be free, after my CEPD, I learned that my teacher's son failed the exam and had nose surgery which my mother had to pay for and Albert ended up with a split mouth and 5 structural points above his eye, he will speak less now, with all this damage my mother decided to move to Lomé the capital to join my brother who had left a year earlier.
I'm punished for life, but I'll have a fresh start, a new school, and a good reputation to build.
At least that's what I thought…