A Lesson Learned

I just wanted to share a story, a walk down memory lane if your nasty.

Imagine if you will a young man, with shoulder length, brown hair and glasses the sizes of small planets. Oh, the frames were pink (another story for another day). I was new to my school, having just moved from Texas to Indiana.

This was sixth grade.

This was 1991 (I think), my memory isn’t so good. Too much booze and crack.

Anyway.

I was excited to be back in Indiana, my family is originally from Lafayette, so I thought the move would be good.

It wasn’t.

You see, kids back in my elementary school had gotten to know me pretty well as the quiet kid who liked drawing monsters and writing horror stories. I was the kid who checked out tons of books on vampires, zombies, and all sorts of mythological beasties. I’m not sure if they liked me back then, but I didn’t feel out of place or judged.

Indiana was different.

I remember sitting in my first class and working on a short horror story. I didn’t think much of it, just doing my thing when suddenly the girl in front of  me, a girl I thought was kind of cute, turned around and looked at me.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Writing a story,” I answered.

“About what?”

“A monster that wakes up from a long slumber and starts eating a bunch of people.”

“Are you a Satanist?”

“No.”

“You’re a Satanist.”

The next thing I knew, this girl (whose name will remain hidden to protect the judgmental cunt) started telling everyone around her that I worshipped Satan. By the end of the day, I had gone from the quiet new kid, to the new kid who worshipped the Devil. It destroyed me and forever damaged my reputation at school. It didn’t help me get dates either, if you can imagine. This was in Greenwood, the school was Greenwood Middle School.

It recently got tore down.

I didn’t give a fuck.

I got tore down, it’s only poetic justice for that fucker to be torn down too.

And so it goes.

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