When I was in middle school, my parents finally decided to stop traveling. My mother, like I, didn't exactly believe the scare-tactic ideals that [drama ministry] espoused. And my father agreed that it would be best if my baby sister and I were around kids other than, you know, each other.
I spent seventh grade getting my bearings at a private school so small there was only one other girl in my class. She was, but given my limited choices, my best friend. The next year she and I were both thrown into our local public school, where I expected us to stick together, and she proceeded to tell every kid there that I was, among other things, "slutty" and "bulimic."
So I had no friends, save the school drug dealer, who was cute enough, and moreover, took an interest in me.
He told me I was ugly, my teachers hated me, and that my boobs weren't big enough. A full head taller than me and probably fifty pounds heavier, he threatened me when I would wear nice clothes and accuse me of trying to pick up other guys. Then, we would make out behind the cafeteria after school.
One time I caught him there when he was making a deal, and he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the brick wall. It tore a hole in my shirt.
I was in eighth grade.
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2 comments:
What?! He sounds like a maniac! What did he do to you?
Whoa, grade 8 is when we go from junior school to high school here and similarly my bf turned on me too. It was rough but nothing i reckon compared to what you had to endure..
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