***WARNING***
There is a lot of course language in my autobiography. If you easily get offended by course language, you may wish to go read something else.
If you missed chapter one, you can find it here:
http://www.jehovahs-witness.com/9/88236/1.ashx
Chapter 2: Junior High - The Elmwood Years
"When you lie to me, you lie to Jehovah" - my mother
==================================================================================
Before I start this chapter, I must mention a very important event that took place during the summer before I entered grade 7. My Uncle was a Mormon, and he was hooked up with a future wife who lived in Utah. He made the move down there, and had much of his stuff sent to our house to hold onto until he could retrieve it. My parents thought it would be fun to see what kind of stuff was in these boxes. They opened them all and went through all of my uncle's belongings. I, not knowing any better joined them. One thing that I found was an old pair of my uncle's glasses. They were slightly broken, but nothing major. I decided to try them on. Much to my surprise, I could see clearly! I decided to take these glasses to school to help me see the chalkboard. I used them for all of grade 7.
Another thing that happened was my mother recieved a bunch of hand-me-downs from her friend Eileen who had 2 teenage boys in the early 80's. The year was 1989 and these clothes were far out of fashion. I tried arguing with her about me wearing the shitty clothes, but she just screamed at me, and told me that Jehovah doesn't want me to dress like all the other kids, I was suppose to stand out. This is exactly what happened.
Jehovah's Witnesses see violence as wrong and competitive. Jehovah's people are NOT suppose to partake in any sort of violence. Whenever an issue arises, Jehovah's Witnesses are suppose to pray and leave the situation in Jehovah's hands.
Here's a quote from the ugly pink Great teacher book, pages 131-134:
But what if someone tries to pick a fight with you? He may try to get you angry by calling you names. He may laugh at you and say that you're scared. Maybe he calls you a sissy. What should you do? Should you let yourself be drawn into a fight?—
Again, let's see what the Bible says. Turn to Matthew chapter five and verse thirty-nine. There Jesus says: "Do not resist him that is wicked; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other also to him."
What did Jesus mean by that? Did he mean that if someone hits you with his fist on one side of your face, you should let him hit you on the other side?—No, he did not mean that.
A slap is not like a hit with the fist. It is more like a push or a shove. A person does this to pick a fight. He wants us to get angry. And if we do get angry and push or shove back, what happens?—We will probably get into a fight.
Jesus did not want his followers to act like that. So he said that if someone slaps us, we should not slap back. We should not become angry and get into a fight. If we do, we show that we are no better than the one who started the fight.
If trouble starts, the best thing is to walk away. The other fellow may push or shove a few more times. But that will probably be the end of it. When you walk away, it does not show that you are weak. It shows that you are strong for what is right.
Rumor had started to spread that I was a Jehovah's Witness. My classmates had started picking on me and teasing me. They would bash me in the head with their books and their fists. I would also get random kickings in the legs, my back, my ass, and my balls. They would also rub the bottoms of their shoes on my shitty clothes. The thing is it wasn't just one student, it was more than half the class. After I'd get my head bashed by one student's book, I'd immediately get punched in the head by another student's fist, immediately followed by another, etc, etc. There I would sit at my desk trying to hold the tears back, and praying like crazy to Jehovah. I would find myself closing my eyes, saying to myself "No! No! I can't take this anymore!" Even the ugliest, smelliest girl in the class was picking on me.
What would the teachers do? Absolutely nothing! I would get kicked and punched, and the asshole teachers would just sit there and watch. If I went and complained to the teacher about so-and-so hitting me, they'd just move me to another desk where another student would do the same shit, and the one who was previously hitting me would make fun of me for being such a suck. Even in Phys Ed, I had objects thrown at me. I actually started to fear dodge balls, basket balls, you name it. I still clearly remember the THOOMP sound of a basket ball hitting me in the head, followed by the ringing in my ears, the pain, and the redness in my vision.
You think it would stop outside of the classroom, but it didn't. Whenever I was at my locker, I'd have other students come by just to kick me or slam my head into the locker. It just never seemed to fucking end, and Jehovah didn't seem to be helping me out any. I had 1 friend named Murray who seemed to get a kick out of my sense of humor, but I often found him joining in with the others. Russ wasn't in any of my classes, and he had seemed to find some other friends. The girls, including Kellee were picking on me, except for a couple of them who actually showed a bit of concern asking me "are you okay". I would just answer with "yes".
As the daily abuse continued at school, it started to take a toll on me. I found myself shaking when I was getting ready for school, shaking walking to school, and shaking entering school. I've never felt anything of this kind where I was almost continually shaking with fear throughout the day. Every day I dreaded going to school, knowing I would face the torture. The amazing thing is that my school marks never dropped. I was still an honor roll student. I knew if I didn't keep my marks up, I would get reamed out by my parents. I really started to wonder if the torture would end. Would I get the same kind of torment after I was finished school and in the workplace? Grade 12 seemed so far away.
When the winter came, I was forced to wear snowpants along with my shitty wardrobe. I was teased incredibly about that one. If I refused to wear them, I would get yelled at by my mother, and threatened to be beaten by her. It was completely a lose-lose situation for me. I was trying my damn best to put my faith in Jehovah, but it just wasn't working. I couldn't stand up for myself because it was wrong in God's eyes. The teachers wouldn't do anything to help me. So there I am defenceless with my self-esteem plummiting, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
I was happy when Christmas break came along. I was able to get a 2 week break from the bullshit that I was putting up with in school. I enjoyed 2 whole weeks without any shaking, any nervousness, and any physical pain. When Christmas break ended, I found myself back in the same situation as before. I was literally counting the days of school left before summer break. All throughout this extremely nerve-racking period of my life, I never told my parents about it. I figured they'd just give me the old "tell the teacher" advice, or give me shit about not coming to them earlier about it. I also didn't want to suffer the embarassment of having my parents getting involved in the situation. I felt this would be an incredible blow to my self esteem, lowering it more than it already was.
During the summer, my mother had recieved some hand-me-downs from a Jehovah's Witness parent who had a son named Darcy. These clothes were actually still in style, and I was incredibly happy to recieve them. Because these clothes came from another Jehovah's Witness, they were okay to wear. There were 2 shirts that I mainly wore.
When grade 8 came along, I found myself not being picked on as much by the other students. I had some decent clothes, and it seemed to make much difference. My mother had recieved yet another nice care package from Eileen. I remember her pulling this shit-ugly brown shirt from the bag with a beige stripe across it saying "Oh, you could wear this to school!"
I responded with "no".
Then she started screaming at me, "Why not! This would look good on you!"
I told her "I'm not wearing that". Then she started giving me shit about being picky.
On the religious side of things, me and my dad were studying the bible with a man named John, ironically the husband of Verna who had brought my mother into the Jehovah's Witnesses. John was extremely proud of the progress that I was making in the congregation. He would take me out in door to door field service. He would help me prepare an opening line to say at the door, then he would jump in and explain the magazine we were trying to place in further detail. John eventually pushed me into being an unbaptized publisher. I felt incredibly pressured to do so by him and everyone else in the congregation, including my parents. I wasn't ready for this, and I had begun losing my faith in Jehovah. I was already doing things that were against "Jehovah's Principles". I was listening to rap music, and I had gained interest in a girl at school.
My school friend Isaac had introduced me to his cousin, an ugly bitch named Michelle. I immediately started teasing the shit out of her. However, she was hanging around a girl named Bethany, a girl who I had gone to elementary school with. The thing that made Bethany stand out in elementary school is that she had a special desk, with some very interesting equipment on it. Bethany had incredibly bad eyesight, and I'm guessing the equipment came from CNIB (the Canadian Institute for the Blind). I have no clue what caused her bad eyesight, since I was too chicken-shit to ask. Bethany also seemed too chicken-shit to tell anyone about her problem. I had noticed that she came to school in a school bus, which was unusual for any student. But none of this shit meant anything to me because Bethany was GOOD LOOKING!
Anyway, I found myself frequently hanging out with Bethany and Michelle. I'll never forget the feeling of running into Bethany in the hallway and asking her to meet me at the cafeteria doors for lunch break. Sometimes I'd wait for her, and sometimes she'd wait for me. Guys in my classes would notice that me and her were hanging around together, and they teased me about having a girlfriend. I really didn't care, since most of them didn't have one. I also had to be extremely careful, since there were Jehovah's Witnesses in my school who went to the same Kingdom Hall that me and my family attended. I didn't want one of them to report me to my parents, or the Elders.
I remember when I had decided to ask Bethany for her phone number. I took about a week to build up my courage to ask for it. I would continually carry a pen and paper around with me. The friday before her birthday came, and I ran into her in the hallway. I grabbed my balls, and asked her for her phone number. I wrote it down, since I knew she wouldn't be able to do it herself. I was shaking like hell, but I was happier than a pig in shit when I got it.
Just as a side note, I had recently finished building up a machine to record telephone conversations. I built it from an old answering machine and it worked very well. I was quite good at working with electronics.
The actual phone call was another huge step for me to make. I found myself getting the same nervousness I got when I was trying to dial Kellee's number. It took me probably a total of two and a half hours to build up the courage to dial the seventh digit in Bethany's phone number. I was shaking and nervous as hell. I didn't know what I wanted to talk about, so I dug up some of my mother's Awake magazines, and planned to tell Bethany some of the useless facts that were in the back of the magazines.
I was shy, nervous, and shaking while I was talking to Bethany. We talked for about an hour and a half. This had been the biggest breakthrough for me personally. I also found myself phoning Bethany every second day, and would do it whenever my mother wasn't home, or sleeping. I had no way to actually take her out on a date with my mother being the way she was, so I called Bethany throughout the summer holidays. I was trying to get my cousin to help me out with taking her out on a date. However, we never seemed to arrange a day that we could pull this off. The phone calls with Bethany lasted for a total of six months.
Another fact about Jehovah's Witnesses is that they're not allowed to date until they're 20 years old. I had developed a plan with Bethany. I was planning on getting her to join the Jehovah's Witnesses, and we'd be able to marry when we were in our 20s. Now that I look back on it, that was one of the fucking stupidest ideas I ever had. But that's the way most teenage JWs think when they "fall in love" with someone "worldly".
There was one day that was extremely humiliating for me, and shattered any hope I had in my teenage dating years. I was talking on the phone with Bethany one day when my mother was home. My mother picked up the phone downstairs and asked "Who are you talking to Ben?" I told her I was talking to Russ, and my mother hung up the phone. Whew! I continued talking to Bethany. My mother picked up the phone downstairs again, and heard Bethany's voice. My mother then spoke, "Ben, that's not Russ, that's a girl! You lied to me! When you lie to me, you lie to Jehovah." I never felt so humiliated and embarassed in my life. I wanted to die. My mother then began to speak to Bethany, "What's you're name?"
"Bethany."
"Well Bethany, Ben is one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and we don't believe in dating the opposite sex until the couple is mature. Do you understand?"
"Yes"
"Ben, I want you to let Bethany go, and then I want to talk to you." My mother then hung up the phone. Me and Bethany were speechless. I told her I would talk to her later. I proceeded to go downstairs, and my mother pulled out the Watchtower Society's book "Your Youth: Getting The Best Out Of It". She then began reading the chapter on dating to me, and explained how it was wrong.
Ever since then, I could sense me and Bethany falling apart, but I didn't want to believe it. Around Christmas, my cousin had agreed to have me and Bethany over to his place, just so we could spend some time together without any problems from my mother. I tried like hell to call her and arrange it. I'd get excuses from her mother, her sister, and her brother as to why she couldn't come to the phone. Some of the excuses were "She's washing her hair", "She's sleeping", etc. On December 31, 1992, I had called her. Her mother picked up and told me "Listen, Bethany's got a boyfriend, and she'd appreciate you saying that it's her FRIEND Ben calling. Okay?" I was immediately shocked, and I responded with a simple yes. I quickly got off the phone, and I cried my eyes out. This was the first time I had ever felt a heartbreak.
My cousin had asked me "So when are you bringing your girlfriend over?" I told him that she dumped me. I was pretty down about the whole thing. He told me "That's allright, there's plenty more women out there". I really didn't give a fuck about any other women, I wanted Bethany. I only called her two more times over the next few months. I was still hurting from it, and I would for a total of 3 years.
Grade 8 had passed. It was now summer of 1993. My dad didn't think my bike would be stolen from just sitting in the yard. Boy was he fucking wrong. I had recieved a new bike from my parents to replace the one that got stolen.
In school, I had made friends with a very tall, but cool guy named Craig. While I was biking, I ran into him in a neighborhood park. I started talking to him, and was interrupted...
"Hi! I'm Craig's sister Becky!" I said Hi. and me and Becky continued to chat. I was still sitting on my bike, and she was sitting on my front bike tire, holding onto the handlebars. She was very talkative and full of pep. She "accidently" touched my hand while hanging onto the handlebars. Eventually, the light touching became us holding hands, and she was laying her head on my chest. I had also warned her about my mother to prevent any further problems. After about 40 minutes, I told her I had to leave. She wrote her name and number on a piece of a cigarette pack, and told me to call her that night. I did, but she wasn't home. I also tried the next day and she wasn't home.
I think I was just really happy that this girl was showing me the time of day. She wasn't the greatest looking, but she wasn't incredibly ugly. It was exciting, but at the same time frustrating. I had no clue how I would be able to date a girl and not get caught by my mother.
I still had the same nervousness trying to phone Becky. However it wasn't as bad as when I was calling Bethany. Becky usually had a lot to say as opposed to Bethany who never spoke a word. I finally got ahold of Becky and chatted with her on the phone. Listening to the recording I have of it reminds me of how shitty my conversational skills were back then. The bitch kept putting me on hold for 15 minute periods. As stupid as I was, I stayed on the line. She ended up asking me to meet her at the park, but I told her I couldn't because of my mother. However, I continually tried to set up dates with Becky.
I ran into her in a different park, and she was with another guy. I was a bit upset about it, but I didn't let it worry me too much since me and Becky never had an actual date. I called her a couple of days later. She had told me she was thinking of going out with me. I told her the same. She ended up dumping the other guy so she could go out with me.
We finally ended up agreeing on a date, and we were to meet on the bus. I told my mother I was going to spend the day downtown looking at all the stores. I remember trying to get ahold of Becky around 9:00 in the morning. I was to call her and wake her up, and pick a bus to meet her on. I had to phone her from downstairs in the bathroom since my mother was upstairs where my room was. We agreed on a time, and I went to the bus stop to wait. This was the first time I had ever gone out by myself via the bus.
The bus came along, and the door opened. There was Becky, sitting in the front seat waving. She had her hair done up nice, and she looked pretty good. We spent basically all day downtown. This was the first time I had ever held hands with a girl, and I also got my first kiss. I was looking foreward to grade 9. School was starting, and I had a girlfriend. We both figured the teachers would freak from seeing a good student dating a bad student. Apparently Becky was a bit of a hellraiser.
For the second date, we agreed to meet the same way. I called her in the morning to wake her up, and we agreed on a bus. I waited and waited, but there was no Becky on the bus. I got frustrated and got on the next bus. When I got to the mall, I called Becky. She apologized for falling asleep and told me she'd meet me at the mall. Time passed, and she finally arrived at the mall. She looked kinda shitty this time. Her hair looked like crap. I really didn't care because I had a girlfriend. She tried giving me hickies on my neck, but I stopped her. We went to her house after we were done downtown. I noticed the phenominal amount of religious literature that was on the coffee table. After our date, I was walking back to my house, rubbing my face constantly, making sure I had no lipstick stuck on my face.
I was now in grade 9, and I finally decided to start brushing my own hair in the style that I wanted instead of having my mother do it. She critisized me for the stupid hairstyle that I chose, and said I looked like an idiot. I felt the incredible urge to break away from my controlling mother, but I had to do it slowly.
In school, I was waiting with Becky in the lunch line listening to her talking to her friends. I heard her say that she was going to the HALL with her friend Amanda. This confused me, and I started to wonder if this "Amanda" was a Jehovah's Witness. Becky came up to me a couple of days later and asked me if I was a JW. I responded with "not officially". Becky was quite happy with that, and started studying the bible with a JW lady.
With this happening, Becky decided to get brave and come to my house, even though I had specifically told her not to. I was upstairs watching the whole episode through my window. She had told my mother that SHE was a JW. The excuse she used to get me out of the house was that her chain fell off her bike and she wanted me to fix it. Mother didn't buy it, and Becky never got to see me that day. I clearly remember mother writing the following on the calendar: "Sept 15 Becky comes to the house". My mother was fuming about this, and decided to find out some information about Becky, which she did by asking around at Becky's Kingdom Hall. She found out that Becky was only studying the bible, and had come from a horrible family. Mother was determined to stop me from seeing her.
After about a month of dating Becky, I got tired of listening to her nonstop talking about people I didn't know. I was also upset that she came to my house. I remember she walked with me home from school and asked me for a hug. I rejected her and made my way home. After that, I proceeded to get 3 notes from Becky. Her writing was the total shits, and I could barely make out a single fucking word. Obviously, she missed me. I wrote responses to the first 2 letters, but I believe I only gave her the first one. I wrote a "poem" if you wanna call it that. I was big into rap music at the time, so I was trying my shot at writing a rap song and using it as a response. The following is what I wrote her (I kept a copy):
In answer to your letter on October 5th
Through my whole damn mind I had to sift
Lookin for the right words and what to say
I don't want a price that I don't have to pay
You still wanna be friends well I don't mind
Don't wanna be cruel cause I'm not that kind
You keep some of your memories locked away
But neglect won't make them fade away
They're reaching into your dreams and down in your heart
They don't need fingers to be rippin it apart
You told me all your thoughts and still think I'm fly
I don't wanna break your heart, that's why I wrote this rhyme
But there is one thing that I want you to know
I'm writing clearly in this spot that I'm letting you go
Dance to the music, that's what you wanna do
But I haven't danced in a year or two
To teach someone to dance would be really cool
But you'd like me more and start actin like a fool
So Becky don't be blue cause I've run out of time
And now I have to conclude and end this rhyme
But bring back the rhyme cause the rhyme has evaporated
And all of the sucker ladies think they're well educated
Sayin' they would, they could, they think
But never ever never dare try to wash their face in my sink.
I'm laughing my ass of right now, I completely forgot about this stupid poem. The last 4 lines I stole from a song called "Wash Your Face In My Sink" by the Dream Warriors. Gotta give credit where credit is due. I must have left Becky incredibly confused, but I really didn't care.
Shortly after me and Becky broke up, she moved onto another guy, and got pregnant. It happened so quickly that some people thought Becky was pregnant with my baby. Anyway, I decided to move on, however this became and incredibly difficult task.
The difficult part of being forced to abide by the rules of the Jehovah's Witness religion is you don't have much freedom when making changes to your appearance. Male members have to shave frequently and keep their hair short. I always wanted to see what my hair would look like long, but I never had the choice. Anyway, Me and my parents were on one of our annual family trips to Kmart which is separated from a Safeway by a little mini-mall. In this mini-mall, there are two hairstyling parlours - one for men and one for women. I frequently got a haircut there, and this was one of those times where I was getting a trim. After the hairstylist was done, I looked in the mirror and thought my haircut looked like shit. I was never happy with any of my haircuts. With my hair being a bit curly, it was often difficult to style it the way I wanted it without using a phenominal amount of hair gel.
So anyway, I paid the lady and walked out with my shitty haircut. My dad was as usual sitting in the Kmart coffee shop playing scratch tickets and drinking coffee. My mother was off in some fucking part of the store. I, as usual went over to the CD rack and was looking for my next investment in music. So I'm standing there and some guy comes up to me and asks me for my name and phone number. I gave him a funny look. He says "Don't worry, it's not for me, it's for this girl". Immediately, I get a ton of questions running through my head. Is my shitty haircut really not that shitty? If I give out the phone number, how will I stop my mother from picking up the phone? What does this chick look like? I decided to give this guy my number for the hell of it. While me and my parents were walking out, I saw the guy, a friend, and this girl. The guy said "Hey Ben, that's her" pointing to this cutie laughing. My parents asked who they were. I just responded some friends.
Shortly after I got home, this girl phoned me. Mother was downstairs, I was upstairs in my bedroom. I picked up the phone, and talked very briefly. I told her she called at a bad time and to call me back later. I also got her name - Penny.
The next day Penny phoned me again. Mother was home, so I had to cut the call short. I asked her for her number, but she said she had just moved and didn't have a phone. I again told her to call back later. I never heard from her again.
I really didn't know how the hell I was going to handle a woman with my mother trying to keep me away from them. Nevertheless, I kept working on landing a girlfriend who would understand my situation. The first in my big line of crushes, according to my memory was Tammy. Hell, I daydreamed about this girl a lot, and I'd get a bit nervous if she looked at me, or passed me by in the hallway. I really couldn't figure out a way to ask her out, so I decided to get my buddy Kevin to do it. Yeah, fucking stupid move. The thing is, the guy got me go tell Tammy that he wanted to talk to her. Now that I look back on it, it was a waste, I should have done it myself. Anyway, Kevin ended up talking to her. She told him that she thought I was nice, but she had a boyfriend. I figured it was a lost cause, but it didn't hurt to try. This was a better response than my next rejection.
During the fall of 1993 I decided to get my beginner's drivers license. I went and picked up a beginner's handbook and read the thing 3 times. I made an appointment to go and take my written test. When the day came for me to take the written test, I went down there only to find that I needed a permission slip signed by one of my parents to take it. So I had to head all the way back home. My mother was completely against the idea of me getting my driver's license. Unfortunately, she was the only one home. I had to beg her to get her to sign it. However, there was a catch. She wrote out an agreement for me to sign stating that I was not to piss her off ever again. This was a contract that she had come up with in exchange for her signature on the permission slip. I was desperate, and I signed it. After my signature was on the agreement, she let out a laugh and said, "I can use this against you! I can make you do anything I want with this contract!" Pretty fucking pathetic thing for a parent to do.
I started developing a crush on a girl who also went to my elementary school named Natalie. She had just recently got a perm, and she looked pretty damn good with it. This girl I persued a little harder than Tammy. From what I remember in elementary, she was pretty nice, and we previously had a couple of goofy conversations. I thought I would have a decent chance at her, so I decided to go for it, but I didn't know how the hell to get her attention. She didn't seem to have a boyfriend.
At school, I got along pretty good with the teachers, and decided to get Mr. Mcbean to relay a message to Natalie. I told him to tell her to meet me at the cafeteria doors tomorrow at lunch. He later told me he relayed the message to her. I waited for about 15 minutes, but she never showed up. I still didn't give up.
It was getting close to Christmas break and I felt that I was running out of time. I wanted a girlfriend to spend the holidays with. In my desperation, I phoned up a radio station one night, and requested a song for Natalie. The song was "The Air That I Breathe" by The Hollies. The fucking DJ asked me "what would you like to say to Natalie?"
Like a fucking dork, I answered "I just want to say that I really want to go out with her really badly."
The DJ said "Well, maybe she'll hear the message and you two will end up together for the holidays".
I used to have a recording of this request, but I erased it for a reason I will mention later in this autobiography.
Anyway, I highly doubt she heard it, and I spent Chrismas alone. When school started up again, I got an incredible idea. I was taking a typing class, and I noticed Natalie's 5 1/4" floppy sitting in another section in the class floppy disk storage. When the teacher wasn't looking, I grabbed Natalie's floppy, wrote her a note asking her out and telling her to reply on my floppy or leave a note in the floppy jacket. I then saved it on her disk with the filename "A-OPENME.WPS" (we were using Microsoft Works version 2.0). When I put my floppy back, I also put Natalie's back.
Next class, I didn't get a reply. The following class, I found a folded note in my floppy jacket with "Open This" written on it. I had a huge rush of excitement run through me, and I went to my desk to read the response.
The gest of the note was "Why are you fucking with my property? How would you like it if I started fucking around with your disk, leaving shit on it." I took it as a NO and promptly threw the note in the trash. I was pretty upset about it, and felt like writing her an apology and sticking it in her floppy jacket. I decided it would be a better idea just to try and forget about the whole incident. Rumor got around about me asking Natalie out, but I really didn't care who knew about it. At least I was making some kind of an effort to get a woman, unlike many of my schoolmates.
Every morning, I had a math class. I was starting to sway between staying in the classroom and going to a special room designated for Jehovah's Witnesses, who aren't allowed to stand up for O Canada. Every morning, the teacher would ask me if I was going to the room, or staying in the class. All in all, he was nice about it and probably knew that I was struggling with the issue. I probably would have stayed in the class more often, but there still were other Jehovah's Witnesses that went to the same congregation as me, and they would start to question me if I wasn't in the special room at least half of the time.
Anyway, in my math class, there was a girl named Alana that was super friendly, although not incredibly attractive. I started developing a thing for her. I decided to inquire about Alana's thoughts on me through her friend Denyne. Denyne had passed me a note, saying that Alana was seeing a guy from another school. So I decided to write Alana off. The year after, Alana got pregnant.
I was transferring to a different school next year, and I was still trying at another shot at landing a woman. I started to not care what others were thinking of me, so I figured I could make an ass out of myself anyway. There was a girl in my Automotive class named Marcy. She was also in one of my math classes before I transferred. She would wear the sweetest smelling perfume, and we had chatted a few times. I started trying to figure out the best way to ask her out. Notes didn't work, getting a friend to do it didn't work, so I decided to grab my balls and do it personally. I was nervous as hell. I told Marcy that I wanted to chat with her briefly after class. She asked me "what about" but I told her I'd do it after class. After auto class was finished, me and Marcy were chatting. Everyone else had left, and we were taking our sweet-ass time walking back to our lockers. I popped the question if she wanted to go out and do something one night. Marcy was surprised. She said "I wasn't expecting that. Well, sorry, but I'm sorta seeing someone right now." I took it quite well since she was actually kinda sweet about it. You'd think that I'd learn that face to face rejection was much easier to take than a nasty note, but I didn't learn.
The last few days of Grade 10 were hell. The nightmare of Grade 7 came back. I was goofing around with this asshole named Ron. He flipped my binder off my desk, I tipped his hat off his head, and the asshole punched me in the face. Everyone around was laughing. I was stunned. He apologized saying "I'm very protective of my hat", but I felt that his apology wasn't sincere. Other classmates started joining in the hitting war with Ron in the next few classes. The tears started to fill my eyes again. I didn't have the confidence to stand up for myself, and I regained the feeling that the whole world was against me. I decided to stick it out for the last few days, and it was hell all over again. On the very last class, rumors started going around that I was going to get the shit beat out of me after class. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, went to my locker, picked up all my shit, and returned to class. When class was over, I immediately left through the back of the school and took an alternative route home. I was thankful to leave that fucking school and never return again.