nohopesnodreams
Drill Sgt. Greycel
★★★
- Joined
- Sep 26, 2025
- Posts
- 258
I was the only one to go neatly dressed on the first day I began all that.
I had to memorize the timetables for different classes so I'd know which hall I couldn't go through at different hours so I wouldn't get spat on.
One time I referred to an older kid as ,,sir" out of panic.











I naturally couldn't form any friendships besides the fact that I had nothing in common with any of the other kids so I'd spend all of the breaks in the bathroom (like in those american movies).
The school oldfags who'd get held back every year eventually caught up with this and they'd throw their garbage into my stall or wait for me to get out so they'd be able to steal my cigarettes or take mocking photographs with me that they'd share with people from their class or from other schools. Remembering all of this makes my head spin.
Even back in earlier grades I'd return home covered in bruises but at least then I had a group of other kids to hang out with, though I was mostly the punching bag. Those grades were warmth for the soul compared to what this was.
I feel as if the only person who sympathized with my condition to some extent was the sports teacher who was some older lady, but it was nothing significant.
The only thing that made me want to rope was the fact that I could never be able to fight them back and kill them all.
I had to memorize the timetables for different classes so I'd know which hall I couldn't go through at different hours so I wouldn't get spat on.
One time I referred to an older kid as ,,sir" out of panic.
I naturally couldn't form any friendships besides the fact that I had nothing in common with any of the other kids so I'd spend all of the breaks in the bathroom (like in those american movies).
The school oldfags who'd get held back every year eventually caught up with this and they'd throw their garbage into my stall or wait for me to get out so they'd be able to steal my cigarettes or take mocking photographs with me that they'd share with people from their class or from other schools. Remembering all of this makes my head spin.
Even back in earlier grades I'd return home covered in bruises but at least then I had a group of other kids to hang out with, though I was mostly the punching bag. Those grades were warmth for the soul compared to what this was.
I feel as if the only person who sympathized with my condition to some extent was the sports teacher who was some older lady, but it was nothing significant.
The only thing that made me want to rope was the fact that I could never be able to fight them back and kill them all.





