Rabble

Well, Here I will post my story.

I was born.

Okay, now I will post some corrections that need to be made.

Biography
I was born in Medford Massachusetts. But when I was one I moved to a "better" place called Waltham. I went to Douglas MacArthur Elementry school which was great at first, but it spiraled into HELL as I grew older. My best friend was a kid named Chris Gengron. We were really good friends because he had so many things I didn't. At that time, kindergarten thru third grade, I didn't have any luxereries. No computer, no video games, no CD's. But the thing was, I didn't want any of that. I didn't know why, but I never wanted to go listen to music, or go play video games. But he started to change that. It started off like: "Let's go play Super Mario," to "Come watch me play Grand Theft Auto." Now, I'm sure you will think this is rediculous, but I don't enjoy sensless killing and monstrous violence. Sure, I played GoldenEye when I finally got an N64, but I could never enjoy Resident Evil. In fourth grade, he stopped liking me. Leaving me friendless. But what made me want to cry, was that he stopped being my friend to be with the punk slime ball Derek McIver. My worst enemy. This is what started my awful life. Derek(how I loath that name) turned almost evryone in the school against me. People wouldn't talk to me, and I was made fun of like a red-haired step child. Eventually, I found a friend named Mary. Our friendship was awkward. We could tell each other what ever the hell we wanted to and we really wouldn't care. She stuck up for me, and because she was popular, I became popular by assosaition. She was prolly the biggest tom-boy in the world, which was prolly why people didn't hastle me that my only friend was a girl. As grades progressed, we became "insepreable." But it was weird, We'd fight and complain and steal things from each other, but wouldn't care. We'd argue over something gay, and the next day make plans to go over one of our houses. Even now, when I go to her house, we barely even do things together, we play seperate games in the same room and do nothing for hours. But then talk about how awesome it was. But as my friendsship with Mary, my anger against Derek did not abate. He treated me worse and worse every year. He bacame "the coolest kid in school." He never did school work, never went home, smoked, drank, had weapons and drugs. He had so much power. He'd gotten arrested before, so I was afraid of him. But I hated him so much. Let's jump to sixth grade. In sixth grade I was the comedy kid. Everyone thought I was funny. But I had no self control. I never raised mt hand. I was a clown, but people liked me. And some how, Derek did to. Then I bacame "popular." I never saw him after school, only in it. I never told my parents about our friendship because of all the bad things I said about him. every day him and his friends would ask me to say something funny. After a while, I ran out of ideas. Then he hated me again. And all the teachers thought we were still friends and thought we were "just playing around." When we stopped bing friends, him and two other kids snuck beer in soda cans and drank it in the morning before school. Then, they'd throw them out in there class room and go through the day drunk. It took four days for the teachers to notice. But they must have. They just didn't want to deal with it. Finally a parent called the school and him and his friends were expelled. I thought it was great. He came into class in tears to get his stuff. It was a long awaited victory. But his gothic mother called the school and they let him come back. He was gone for three days. For drinking in school. My victory hadn't lasted. During the summer, I lifted weights and ran to get stronger. I was tired of being pushed around. It had been organized so he wouldn't be in any of my classes. But I wanted to be prepared. But guess what: he was in my English class. As soon as school started, he had his friends yell obsenities at me i unison. Mary had gone to a private school, so I didn't see her in school anymore, and I was alone again. I had some friends but they weren't very good ones. They were afraid of Derek. On the second day I pushed one of his friends down about four stairs. I
thought I had made my point, I didn't think I was a target anymore. The enxt day on the busride, I realized I was wrong. They were worse than ever. They were yelling things at me from the back. I lost it. I Got out of my seat and went to the back. I pulled him out of his seat and threw him on the ground. I told him I was sick of him. I swore at him. I let it out. His friends were astonished, but just said Derek could kill me. but I just stood there, nervous. I was just waiting it out for the idiot bus driver to get me to stop so I could get off. But he sat in watched. He spit in my face, but I didn't do anything. He dared me to hit him, and I wanted to, but I don't like getting in trouble. Eventually, the bus driver broke us up and told ME to go sit and shut up, as it was my fault. I got off the bus and my friend chased me down. He said that Derek would be waiting for me at the park. I had to go and fight him. I told my parents. I asked my dad if he'd try to reason with him. My dad accomponied me to the park. I'll remember this scene forever: My dad, six feet tall, talking to the midget punk. My dad asked why, Derek said I had a big mouth. He said he would never stop. I attacked him. There was a big fist fight- and I was winning. He hit me three times, and he hit me in the nose, and I bled. A LOT. But I was able to get him down, and rub his face on the pavement, leaving him with some attractive cuts. After about ten minutes, the police came. They grabbed us by our necks and seperated us. My dad and I told our story. I week later, when we thought it was all over, we got a letter. We needed to go to court. Whn I say court, I don't mean a big room with a jury, but a cold, little room. No lawyers, no gavel, just a cold little room where we would tell our stories and they'd decide what to do with us. I was very scared. I didn't want a criminal record. I didn't know what to expect. My mom and I just got dressed up and went. Derek and his mom were int ehre usual attire. They were disgusting. Inside, there was a big argument. Hir mother did everything ot get him out of trouble. She lied straight to the judge so her son wouldn't go to jail. They decided that we go on probation for three years. If anything happens in that time, we go to some juvinile correction facility. But it was so unfair. It was a first offense for me, and I was afraid of going to jail. I'm STILL on probation. I actually have just heard that Derek broke the law again, and he has to go to boot camp. Well, it's about time. When I finished the school year, I moved to Wells Maine. It seemed so perfect, and it still is. Everything is so quiet, and safe. The complete oppposite of Waltham. I made new friends very easily. I made more friends in two days than I did in my whole life. I finally found people who were smart, like me. But there were lots of problems. The grading system here, it's much harder. I have managed to still pull an "A" in most of my classes, but it's so hard. In Mass, I was the smartest kid. Here, I'm average. I hate being average. I am still a clown, and I am still immature. But, My dad does not agree with me. He yells at me and asks how long this "trying to be funny" act will keep me friends. He said it's not my job to be funny. He said when we moved, I could be anyone I wanted te be. But I stayed the same. I feel like he's not happy with em because I'm not an athlete. Right now, I am afraid of depression. Some of my friends are mad at me, I'm trying to please my parents with grades, I can't keep my room clean, My father doesn't aprove with my hobbies. It's very difficult. And I don't know what to do. If you have any suggestions, E-mail me. until then, I'm no longer the funny kid i enjoy being. I'm the quiet depressed, hateing everything kid. As of right now, I'm out of depression. So ignore the last couple of sentences.