In the beginning, there was darkness. Then my fucking bitch mom turned on the lights, but I wasn't ready so my pupils got all wicked stung. Moms can really shit on you like that. So this began my first day of Middle School: the initiation to the teen world, which at the time I thought would be fucking awesome. Delusions fueled by the lies of adults; and so I went in to that jungle, unprepared for the hell that awaited me.
My childhood up to that point had been so far uneventful. In the third grade I was diagnosed with ADHD, due to my rowdy behavior and disinterest in petty things such as friendship and innocence. That year is also the year I began my obsession with ruling the world, a dream that has yet to leave my mind. This time I began obsessively reading everything that interested me. It did not matter whether or not it was at my "reading level"-- a sickening invention of the government to stunt my brilliant mind so that I may never rise up and overthrow them. One book I can recall reading, The Story of King Arthur and His Knights, an 11th grade book, was particularly interesting. I admired the strange language within, which I later learned was Old English, and read the 3 pound behemoth over a single weekend.
I detested the feeble-minded infants I shared my space with, but could do nothing in my position about them. So I waited, biding my time till, what I was told would be, liberation: Middle School.
In only my first few weeks, I was plunged into a maze of nightmares and judgement unlike any I have ever faced-- save one. The only child I cared for, Lea, was changed, perhaps more than even I. She smiled less, and stopped climbing trees or playing in the mud. She began to wear makeup, and the flower-scented shit veiled her face like its appearance represented her bitch transition: effectively.
I was tormented by my fellow students, and thus I quit from that awful place. (that's all for now)