The next day at school was... definitely an exhausting one for me. It was the first exhausting day out of many more to come, but I would not realize that until much later in the year.
First class of the day was... well, it started out as Biology, but more people started playing with chemicals and mixing things together, and it was less like Biology and more like Chemistry.
I was paired with the most utterly random boy I'd ever met, aside from Chaco. His name was Gold. I think he was narcoleptic, because he would fall asleep every 30 minutes. Gold fell asleep while we were supposed to be taking notes on the characteristics of our 'specimen', a frog.
Since I was rather confused about what were supposed to be doing--everyone seemed to have a different way of doing it, or was ignoring it all together, and the teacher didn't explain very well what we were supposed to be doing--I just sat there, poking the frog with a popsicle stick. I would've taken notes on it myself, if Gold didn't fall asleep on the notepad and pencil. I really didn't want to wake him because, to be honest, he was much nicer when he was asleep.
Suddenly, he woke back up, screaming at the teacher to buy one of his 'Useless Anteaters' or 'Talking Blankets'. What did he think this was, a marketplace?
I heaved a huge sigh, "Mr. F, sir, can I please switch partners with someone else?"
The teacher heaved an even bigger, put upon sigh, "Does anyone want to switch with this test subj--err, student?" He looked around for any takers. Predictable... there were none. "Mmm, it doesn't seem so. You'll just have to deal with it."
"But Mr. F., I can't even--" That was as far as I got before I was startled by some screeching of Gold's. He dashed around the room, over to a station with chemicals which he poured into his mouth, and then straight out of the room shortly thereafter.
I heaved another sigh, crossing my arms on the table and laying my head on it. "I want to go home..."
"I'll be his partner, sir--" Someone said quietly.
"Ooh, dearie. It looks like you can work alone," The man said with a shrug.
I sat up again, with my head propped up on my hand, and just poked at the frog absently, as I looked around the room.
One of the students was causing some mischief it seemed, trying to force some sort of bubbly mixture down Dominick's throat. He spat it in the other boy's face, and told him to bother Blanky instead. And when the boy forced it down Blanky's throat, she passed out immediately, so Dominick took her to the nurse.
I suppose I could've been more helpful, but I was busy wallowing in self-pity.
"Hey, are you alright?" A girl with bright pink hair had asked. I didn't really take much notice to her before. Her hair was in two large pigtails, which were styled in two large twin drills. Another feature I noticed were her eyes. One was an amber colour, and the other was light blue.
I admit I took a double-take, before returning to my pity party. "I'm fine..." I sighed, "Just fine."
I saw a couple other students playing with chemicals and it made things all the more confusing for me. "I thought this was biology?" I asked.
"Biology lab, chicken." The teacher said.
"Oh..."
---------------------
The next class was math, and the teacher was just bizarre. He was a man who was about 40 years old if I'm being generous, who talked and dressed quite like a villain from a child's game. The most bizarre trait of all, though, was that he collected stuffed animals, and was playing with them when the class came in.
Upon a closer look, they were the same sort of stuffed animals I'd decided to stop playing with a year before then, in hopes that the other boys in the neighbourhood would decide I was cool enough to play with them. ... I wasn't cool enough, and they didn't let me play.
Veering off subject, my apologies. Math was my absolute worst subject, and the teacher did not make it any easier on me with how tough he was on everyone who didn't know how to do the problems. I struggled through the problems, and my anxiety was starting to get the best of me. All I could think of was everyone in class thinking I was stupid, and calling me names because I couldn't figure out an equation one one thing or another.
The teacher was calling out problems, algebraic problems, and I couldn't understand what was to be done. It was all foreign to me.
I would try to figure it out on paper, but when more questions were being asked, I would accidentally write down the numbers for those questions in the previous equation so I couldn't finish even if I tried. I was getting frustrated; to the point where I was sunk really low in my seat, red in the face, and near tears.
My emotional turmoil wouldn't get any better later in the day, because the next class was cooking. Normally I would find cooking to be a joy; I was never more at home than I was in a kitchen, but the teacher for that class happened to be a Mr. Gino Delisiozo, a rival of my grandfather's. The two of them were both pizza chefs, and both owned two of the most popular pizzerias in all of Rome. Delisiozo was rude, hot-headed, and in my opinion, terribly lazy.
As I was about to find out, he was also a bad teacher.
I walked into the class amongst the other kids, and saw Gino standing at the front of the class... I sincerely hoped that it was only someone who looked a lot like him, but then he opened his mouth to yell at Gold as he shoved some food into his mouth. "Questo non è consentito! Questo non è consentito! Questo non è consentito!" That is not allowed, he shouted over and over as he whacked Gold over the head with a rolling pin. Clearly this was the man I knew, already losing his temper with one of his students even though he hadn't even introduced himself.
What he was doing was already whipping me into a blind rage, and I don't get angry all that often. "Sir, you could have calmly told him that what he was doing was wrong instead of hitting him! Stop now or I am telling the principal what you are doing!" I shouted back at him in my mother tongue of Italian, as I didn't want the others to know what I was saying exactly.
"Wow, I've never heard you yell before..." Someone said.
Gino apparently recognized the sound of my voice, as he looked over to me and sneered at me. "He ate the ingredients, Aeolos. And you cannot tell me what to do. I am your teacher, not the other way around."
I scowled at the man, and remained quiet.
"You are going to be split into four groups and make a smoothie. Mango, Banana, Kiwi and Strawberry." Dominick, May and myself got put into the Kiwi group.
"...So, what are we supposed to do?" Dominick asked.
Gino held up a pamphlet titled 'How to make a Kiwi smoothie', which he had placed on the counter. "You are not good at reading, boy."
"Don't just hand us a pamphlet! You need to teach us how to properly use the appliances." Gino was just making me more and more angry.
"Seriously, aren't you supposed to teach us how to do it?" Dominick added in.
Gino already started busying himself making a pizza. Insolent man. "What?"
"You heard us. Don't pretend that you didn't." He apparently had not, or was just completely ignoring us.
Seeing that talking to Gino was a lost cause, I got started on the smoothie, while Dominick was talking to someone who came in. She seemed to be quite friendly with him already, so I just assumed they'd already known each other.
I turned in the smoothie I made, and after Gino graded it, Dominick set to work on his. I thought we were supposed to be a team? Well, he hadn't explained anything very well, so I see why Dominick would get confused.
"... I suck at cooking," He said, looking at the fairly lumpy smoothie that he produced.
If I were more forward like my friend Annabelle, I would have told him outright, Yes Dominick. You do suck. It wouldn't really be fair if I had said that, though. He wasn't bad at cooking, per say, but bad at making smoothies. I give him a smile instead. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You did good," I say.
He returns the smile. "Thanks," He says back to me. There was a bit of a pause before he spoke, so I suppose he could tell I was fibbing a little.
After making a quick pizza project, we all went to Lunch, where I sat with Dominick since Blanky got sick suddenly and had to be taken home. Dominick was being bothered by some girl who was obsessed with him, Analise, or Alice, or... well, whatever her name was. He was being bothered, she even smacked him and almost threw a dodgeball at him as well, so I stepped in to stick up for him.
Our last class for the day was Music, and I was in absolute bliss for the first half of class, playing on a ukulele I found laying around. It drew a small crowd, which I was happy for, but then a substitute teacher came in and put on High School Musical for us to watch. I only sat through 10 minutes of it before going out into the hall, and remained there until we were dismissed.
A Couple Dozen Voices
Monday, June 23, 2014
Vitriolic Best Friends
He was a little asshole when we met.
Actually, he still is now. Every now and then I can't believe it, but
we're best friends. We have been ever since we were maybe six. But we
first met when we were both five years old.
My family had just moved over from
Northern Ireland and one of our neighbors came over to greet us with
her young son. My dad and twin sister went out to get groceries, so
that left me and mum.
"Hello, welcome to the
neighborhood! My name is Elena Stalwart, and this is my son Sven,"
Mrs. Stalwart said, ruffling the hair on Sven's head.
Sven just scowled at me, as if I'd done
something wrong to him, though I hadn't even said anything. I just
looked back to the house, dying to get away and out of the firm grip
mum had on my shoulders. I didn't really ever play with anyone other
than my sister, so I suppose she was dying to have me make a friend.
"It's nice to meet you, Elena! I'm
Eileen Hammond, and this is my boy Shea. His sister is off with his
father, getting groceries," Mum said, gripping tighter on my
shoulders, preventing me from escaping.
"What a cutie! How old is he?"
Mrs. Stalwart asked.
"He's five years old. What about
Sven? How old is he?" Mum asked.
"Oh, Svenny is too! Svenny, why
don't you go play with Shea?" Mrs. Stalwart asked Sven, looking
down to him.
“I don't wanna,” He replied
promptly.
“Sven...”
“Alright, fine...” He huffed, and
went over to his house with me following behind.
When we arrived, he just quietly glared
at me for a good five minutes before he finally spoke up. “Do you
know how to play basketball?” He asked.
“No...” I replied. There wasn't
exactly a good place to play in my old neighbourhood.
“What about tag?” He asked.
“I think so...” I replied.
With my answer, he roughly shoved my
shoulder. “You're it!” He shouted, then ran across the yard.
“H-hey!” I shouted and took after
him.
After a while of chasing him, I tackled
him to the ground, knocking his glasses off his face. Clearly I
hadn't played tag before. “Hey, what did you do that for?!” He
shouted indignantly, feeling around the ground for his glasses.
“You shoved me!” I shouted back to
him.
“I didn't shove you, I tagged
you!” Sven yelled, still
feeling around for his glasses.
I
crossed my arms and gave a huff. “Well, it hurt!” I
yelled back to him, stomping and accidentally crunching Sven's
glasses underfoot.
The color drained
from his face when he realized what I did, and I looked just as
terrified. “Y-you broke my glasses...!” He shouted.
“I din't
mean'ta!” I shouted, waving my hands defensively.
Sven took a blind
leap and tackled me to the ground and we fought. “Mummy!” I
shouted.
Mum and Mrs.
Stalwart appeared not minutes later and tried to pull us apart.
“Boys, stop it!” Mrs. Stalwart shouted.
Mum pulled me off
of Sven and took me back home to nurse the black eye he gave me in
return for his broken glasses.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Entry from Siobhan's Journal
March 15th, 2011
I know it must be hard for Reagan, being so far away from the rest of his family.
And I know it must be even harder to be crammed into this small house with a part of his family he hadn't had much contact with. But it's all we could do to help.
His father is nowhere to be found and he's been that way for years. His brother won't even talk to any of us anymore, and refuses to see him. His mother is ill and can't take care of him. But worst of all, his grandparents. They could have given him a nice home but won't take him in unless we send him back over to Ireland.
We can't even afford it. The house is almost fallen apart and we're behind on bills. We might possibly be kicked out within a month, and almost all of us have taken jobs to be able to keep it.
I hate the way I'm being treated at my job. They'll give me a pat on the bottom or say some crude comment as I walk by. Then they'll trip me up when I'm carrying dishes to the kitchen so I'll fall.
I've never received an apology, and not a single bystander has called out on my treatment, and treats it like it's only something that is normal. It feels horrible that all I ever seem to catch is negative attention, but otherwise am invisible unless I'm needed.
It's just the way it's going to be. For a long, long time. I'll still break down every now and then but I know I have to keep it together and move on. For my home. My family. Myself.
I know it must be hard for Reagan, being so far away from the rest of his family.
And I know it must be even harder to be crammed into this small house with a part of his family he hadn't had much contact with. But it's all we could do to help.
His father is nowhere to be found and he's been that way for years. His brother won't even talk to any of us anymore, and refuses to see him. His mother is ill and can't take care of him. But worst of all, his grandparents. They could have given him a nice home but won't take him in unless we send him back over to Ireland.
We can't even afford it. The house is almost fallen apart and we're behind on bills. We might possibly be kicked out within a month, and almost all of us have taken jobs to be able to keep it.
I hate the way I'm being treated at my job. They'll give me a pat on the bottom or say some crude comment as I walk by. Then they'll trip me up when I'm carrying dishes to the kitchen so I'll fall.
I've never received an apology, and not a single bystander has called out on my treatment, and treats it like it's only something that is normal. It feels horrible that all I ever seem to catch is negative attention, but otherwise am invisible unless I'm needed.
It's just the way it's going to be. For a long, long time. I'll still break down every now and then but I know I have to keep it together and move on. For my home. My family. Myself.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Shea the Werewolf - 4
Entry 4 - December 20th, 2012
Something incredibly weird with Shea today. Normally I'd attribute it to the holidays as he gets really hyper around then. But while I was out with Shea and a couple of his friends at the park watching him play basketball, I saw him bolt after a squirrel. And he caught it. And ate it.
Something incredibly weird with Shea today. Normally I'd attribute it to the holidays as he gets really hyper around then. But while I was out with Shea and a couple of his friends at the park watching him play basketball, I saw him bolt after a squirrel. And he caught it. And ate it.
Aeolos' Story - Part One
Growing up, I never actually had friends. The only friend I ever really had was Annabelle, and she wasn't there beside me. She was a penpal.
Truth be told, before I met Annabelle and got to be in the band with her, my life was fairly lonely. Sure, I did have my sisters... and I love them dearly, really I do, but it isn't the same as having a friend.
From the time I was seven years old, and was put into primary school, until I was twelve and gone into secondary school I might as well have been absolutely invisible. There was never a word spoken to me, nor an invitation to a party, and if anyone had spoken to me, it was only to make fun of me for being too short, too girly, too anything. Because my family was well off, the kids automatically assumed that I was a spoiled, rotten kid and didn't want anything to do with me.
After a few years, I was accustomed with the neglect and abuse. That is, all up until I was sent over to high school in America once I turned fourteen, away from my family. My first day of school was a whirlwind, I hardly remember it now.
My second day, though, more people talked to me than they had for a very, very long time. They were curious about me. They wanted to know me. The first question I received that day almost threw me off-guard. But I wouldn't realize until later that with that one question, I would find friends that would stay with me for most of high school.
"Hey. What are you drawing?"
Another of the new students had asked me while I was doodling in World History class. I didn't really answer him at first, only turned my notebook to show it to the boy, wordlessly.
"... Whoa, you're a pretty good artist," He commented as he saw it. A girl peeked over his shoulder to look at it. "Ooh, pretty."
I looked to my feet, blushing a little as I turned the notebook back toward me. "G-grazie..." I mumbled.
"'Grazie'? Oh, that means thanks, right? You're welcome. Uh...so I heard you transferred here recently? I'm Dominick, by the way."
Nobody ever followed up while they were talking to me before, so I was starting to get nervous. "Eh, y-yes... I transferred here yesterday. M-my name is Aeolos... It's n-nice to meet you.."
"Yeah, it's nice to meet you too," Dominick replied.
"Uhm, hey. I'm Blanky. Dominoes' friend. Welcome to the school," The girl who was peeping over Dominick's shoulder said. She had the most bizarre blue hair, but I had thought nothing of it. Perhaps she just dyed it, like my sister had dyed mine green on accident before I came to America.
While I was speaking with the two of them, another girl came over, sporting bright red hair. "Hi guys, I'm Belinda! Do you wanna be friends?!" She asked excitedly.
I admit, I was slightly frightened and cowered a bit behind my notebook. She was a really nice girl, but her energy was overwhelming to me at the time. "Y-you should be quieter... the teacher might hear you..." I said quietly.
"Wonderful! Sky, we have new friends!" The girl said, running back to her desk and gushing to her friend, presumably called Sky.
After the girl went away, I fell back into silently finishing the picture that I started until
the class was over. The class after that was Physical Education, and I was surprised that I even survived the beating that I had taken during a brutal game where everyone was throwing hard rubber balls at each other, and a manhandling from the gym teacher who didn't want me sitting around to draw.
Truth be told, before I met Annabelle and got to be in the band with her, my life was fairly lonely. Sure, I did have my sisters... and I love them dearly, really I do, but it isn't the same as having a friend.
From the time I was seven years old, and was put into primary school, until I was twelve and gone into secondary school I might as well have been absolutely invisible. There was never a word spoken to me, nor an invitation to a party, and if anyone had spoken to me, it was only to make fun of me for being too short, too girly, too anything. Because my family was well off, the kids automatically assumed that I was a spoiled, rotten kid and didn't want anything to do with me.
After a few years, I was accustomed with the neglect and abuse. That is, all up until I was sent over to high school in America once I turned fourteen, away from my family. My first day of school was a whirlwind, I hardly remember it now.
My second day, though, more people talked to me than they had for a very, very long time. They were curious about me. They wanted to know me. The first question I received that day almost threw me off-guard. But I wouldn't realize until later that with that one question, I would find friends that would stay with me for most of high school.
"Hey. What are you drawing?"
Another of the new students had asked me while I was doodling in World History class. I didn't really answer him at first, only turned my notebook to show it to the boy, wordlessly.
"... Whoa, you're a pretty good artist," He commented as he saw it. A girl peeked over his shoulder to look at it. "Ooh, pretty."
I looked to my feet, blushing a little as I turned the notebook back toward me. "G-grazie..." I mumbled.
"'Grazie'? Oh, that means thanks, right? You're welcome. Uh...so I heard you transferred here recently? I'm Dominick, by the way."
Nobody ever followed up while they were talking to me before, so I was starting to get nervous. "Eh, y-yes... I transferred here yesterday. M-my name is Aeolos... It's n-nice to meet you.."
"Yeah, it's nice to meet you too," Dominick replied.
"Uhm, hey. I'm Blanky. Dominoes' friend. Welcome to the school," The girl who was peeping over Dominick's shoulder said. She had the most bizarre blue hair, but I had thought nothing of it. Perhaps she just dyed it, like my sister had dyed mine green on accident before I came to America.
While I was speaking with the two of them, another girl came over, sporting bright red hair. "Hi guys, I'm Belinda! Do you wanna be friends?!" She asked excitedly.
I admit, I was slightly frightened and cowered a bit behind my notebook. She was a really nice girl, but her energy was overwhelming to me at the time. "Y-you should be quieter... the teacher might hear you..." I said quietly.
"Wonderful! Sky, we have new friends!" The girl said, running back to her desk and gushing to her friend, presumably called Sky.
After the girl went away, I fell back into silently finishing the picture that I started until
the class was over. The class after that was Physical Education, and I was surprised that I even survived the beating that I had taken during a brutal game where everyone was throwing hard rubber balls at each other, and a manhandling from the gym teacher who didn't want me sitting around to draw.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Puppies For Sale - Prologue
The former idea was good, but as with
every other band that came before or after, everybody had their
differences and went their separate ways.
This band ends up no different, but
they still deserve to have their story recounted.
-------------------------
Friday, December 20, 2013
Shea the Werewolf - 1
Siobhan
Hammond
Entry
1 - December
18th, 2012
My
brother Shea has seemed to be particularly off, lately. More off than
usual, actually. He's always been an off person.
First
of all, he has been having serious moodswings. One minute he'll be
his usual upbeat and random self, the next moment sullen and grumpy.
Usually I wouldn't see this as a sign of something bad as he's
usually one of either, but it's been more of a violent change in
mood.
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