HELP! Their Monsters!

Please note, this story is 100% true! This story contains adult material such as adult activity, harsh language, intense graphic violence and drug abuse!

It needs to STOP! Why are you treating me like this?!?!? You don’t even know me!!! Please don’t hurt me!

I can’t go to school, I can’t go to dance’s, I can’t walk downtown, Forget about the school soccer game. I can barely even go out into my own yard!

My dad always told me never to fight, to walk away…. It takes a bigger man to just walk away.

Although that is very solid advice, sometimes you need to stand your ground and handle your shit!

Growing up, I was always on the bigger side. Well to be honest I was never small.

I was a very soft hearted person, I would never want to hurt anyone, always tried to look for the best in people, and always tried to help others in need.

Lets jump back to the 1980’s, small town in Nova Scotia. Elementary school. It all started in Primary, although I was too young to even know what was happening, it all started back then. I remember very clearly, in class the teacher was always my best friend, we did all school projects that required a partner together, I always sat next to her desk and I always spent breaktime by her side.

Not because I was a teacher’s pet, but because no one else would have anything to do with me. I was 6 years old for frigs sake, I didn’t know any better. I remember knowing something was wrong, could never figure out why people were so mean, and freaking out when it was time to go to school.

Jumping ahead to grade 3, but don’t be fooled, grades 1 and 2 were complete hell, but again I was too young to recognize the hate.

Grade 3 is when I started to realize something was wrong, constantly made fun of, constantly pushed, hit and kicked.

I know what you’re thinking, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me”. Well let me tell you my friend, words feel like a knife piercing your chest and twisting.

But that’s ok, that’s not what stands out. The major thing that stands out is one fall day, me and one of who I thought was a friend was walking home, maybe a 10 min walk because she lived right beside me. We got out of school, and we were walking home. We came across a huge puddle on the road, because it just rained, being a kid we were amazed at his 3” deep puddle. What did we do? What every kid would do, we started jumping and splashing and having a grand ol time. No big deal right!

So fast forward about 2 hours. I’m home, changed and all nice and warm enjoying a little TV when I hear a knock on the door. Mom goes over and answers, and I hear mumbling, not thinking anything was wrong. Next thing I know I have my friend’s mother in my face (real bitch BTW, feels she is entitled to everything. You know the type) screaming how I ruined her daughter’s new dress, boots and jacket. Calling me everything in the book “Fat ass, Dumb ass, Retarted….” I couldn’t get a word in at all, but even if I did what would I say. She would never believe me that her daughter was just having fun.

My parents response was to stay away from her. Well ok I will. The next day, still very confused about what happened the night before, I went to school. Things in class were very very different this day. Everyone wasn’t saying shit to me. I thought “well great a great day!”

Break came at the usual time, and we all went outside. The thing was to walk circles around the school. Nothing different here, but as I rounded the corner, on the right side of the building, I saw a group of 5 guys standing with whom I thought was a friend. Mom and Dad said “stay away from her” so I turned around and started walking the other way. They followed!

It didn’t take long for them to catch up with me, and when they did…. I got the beating of my life!!! To the point I had to walk home to change because my jacket, pants and shirt were almost ripped off my body.

Anyways, I got home, told mom and dad what happened, they drove me back and followed me into the school. Next thing I know my father and principal were screaming at each other, and mom comes to my class, tells me to get my stuff that we’re leaving.

Flashing forward a bit, after the School threatening CPS (child protection services) I was forced back to school 2 days later.

Life was HELL!!!!

Jumping ahead 3 years. Grade 6, brand new school, brand new start, or so I thought. First day of school, I found a friend…. Yes, an actual friend! He was disliked just as much as I was.

Well anyways, same group of guys, they have learned over the years how passive I was about their threats, how I would just take their beatdowns, and how they have control over me.

VERY FIRST DAY of school, I faked sick just to go home, so I wouldn’t have to deal with these assholes.

My grade 6 year was full of ass whoopins, ridicule and hell. BUT!!!! This was the first time in my life, I finally snapped and had enough.

I took my bike to school that day. End of the day, we were all gearing up to go home. I see the ring leader (main guy) talking to 3 of his flunkies. They were glaring at me, talking back and forth. I knew for sure I was in for another beat down. Then it happened! Something snapped in my head, I started to feel brave, I started to feel rage, I started to think how it was going to happen, and what I would do if it did.

I walk outside, grab my bike, trying to hurry to avoid what I knew was coming. I got up the driveway and the goddamn chain came off my bike. As soon as I got off to fix the chain, I was attacked from behind.

3 of them drugged me into the woods beside the school and proceeded to beat the living tar out of me.

It happened, a feeling I never felt before, the strength I never knew I had. I stood up and started fighting back. Needless to say, I kicked the living shot out of the 3 of them. I started walking home, with my bike of course, face full of blood, a fat lip and a black eye when my father comes rolling up in the truck. “Hey Son” he said “Whats taking you so long” me being all of 12–13 years old, looks him right in the eyes, tears, blood and sweat just pouring down my face, and I say “My FU*KING CHAIN CAME OFF”.

As soon as I said it, I knew I cussed and I thought for sure I would be grounded for a month. I had never seen this look in my dad’s face before. As he looked at my battle worn face, he had almost a look of remorse and relief all in one. All he said was “Well fix it and get home” and that man followed me the whole way home.

Nothing was ever said about me cussing, and nothing was ever said about why my face and hands were full of blood until 5–6 years later.

Grades 6–7 I started to realize why people were like this. After hitting junior high school, I experienced the hate at a whole new level, not only did I have my peers, but I had much older kids at me everyday. I saw the “clicks” and the different social groups in school, and I started to feel the need to fit in.

I started to act out, started to do stupid shit trying to win the respect of others. Not even thinking about the impact it had on my parents, my life and others. I mean I was no better than these other assholes.

Half way through grade , I stopped and realized what I was doing, started to see the rep I was getting with the teachers, police and with my parents. But it was too late. The damage was done.

I lived through grade 7 with so many ups and downs, something died in me. I started to have suicidal thoughts, I started to have thoughts about hurting those who hurt me, I fell into a deep depression, started missing school and falling behind on my grades to eventually I just quit.

Life at home wasn’t any better, the depression was worse, I was thinking I was a failure, that I wasn’t worth anything, always fighting with my parents and brother. Life for me was hell. Nowhere to run. Back then, depression and anxiety wasn’t a thing that could be helped. The normal response was “get over it”

The year ended, and I started to realize that I need school to become anything in life. September rolled around and I went to speak to the principal, and I begged him to let me come back. He allowed me and put me in grade 8 although I didn’t complete grade 7.

The year started out very strong, I ignored all the bullies and their bullshit, just as I was taught. School was going awesome, I felt great. I got a job, making money… Then it happened!

Sitting in Bio class, next thing I know, the principal and a local police officer show up to the classroom, telling me to gram by stuff and follow them.

I got down to the office, where mom was called, not knowing what was going on, I sat quite until mom showed up. That’s when the local police officer asked us to follow him to the station.

At this point, I know I didn’t do anything, I had no clue what was going on. We got to the police station, and the officer started to question me, asking me all sorts of questions about one of my “Peers” from school and about their selling drugs and what not.

I am being completely honest, because well… I didn’t even know this person sold drugs, so I am sitting there being questioned, and thinking WTF is this guy talking about, why are you questioning me?

Needless to say, I was released, and I was still baffled, mom and dad freaking thinking I am some sort of addict, and me telling them I had no Idea what that was about.

Rattled, I couldn’t sleep a wink that night, all this running through my mind, first time ever being pulled into a police station (wasn’t the last), and trying to figure out why I was singled out.

The next day, I am off to school, tired, confused but still happy. I got there, and went to my home room. In home room everyone was staring, whispering like before and I am thinking “f@ck what now”

Then it all came to light between home room and first class, the typical bullies surrounded me, started to call me a rat and put a beating on me.

Now I know what the whole thing was about…. They took it up a level. The guy was actually a drug dealer, he was actually arrested and they (the bullies) told the cops I knew everything about it, to get me called in to the investigation, just to accuse me of ratting this guy out.

Wow a whole new level, I must admit it was pretty eventive, but wow the law.

The next few months, I experienced shit, I saw shit and I knew shit, and that kind of proved I wasn’t a rat. Even the older kids would stick up for me when the bullies would start screaming “He aint no RAT!” I was relieved that this part was finally over. Where I come from, being a RAT gets you buried. I learned alot about street justice, and I learned really fast that you NEVER see anything, hear anything or say anything.

SO the whole RAT thing died off, and typical bullying continued, at this point I am holding in my sadness, rage, confusion.

Next thing I know, I am being picked up by the cops again. Mom and I sat in the police station, and I was questioned again. This not not for witnessing something, but being accused of selling drugs. I keep telling the officer, I am not admitting to something I didn’t do, he believed me, because he knew what happened the last time. This officer gave me advice that would come to mind later on in this story, in part 2. He said “A bully is only as powerful as you let them be, for god sakes son, handle your shit”

Now these bullies are at a whole new level, it went from bullying to plain out hate. They are making shit up trying to get me arrested. They are now MONSTERS!

Stayed tuned for Part 2. “HELP, Handling my shit.”