Don't Laugh at Me
A Kurt Wagner SongFic.
I don own X-Men in any way, shape or Booger.
I don't go to church, so sorry if I get anything wrong here.
I'm that little boy with glasses
The one they call the geek
A little girl who never smiles
Cause I got braces on my teeth
And I know how it feels
To cry myself to sleep
A fuzzy blue figure was huddled in a corner, hiding desperately from the villagers. He was thirteen. He should be fighting, but he doesn't want to hurt anyone. They shout and curse at the demon in the alleyway, and it cries and cries, screaming for God to help it. It is a different town than the one he had been raised in. Larger and even more unfriendly to him. In his own village, boys had made fun of him and come at him with knives, a gun once, girls had rejected him, but there was usually only two three. This was forty. There was no way he could get out unless someone saved him. They cut his tail. It hurts, but he could scream no louder in fear and agony. He wants them to leave. He can't teleport, he is in too much pain and hunger. He wants to be far away from them, in his bed. On the couch, playing a board game with his mother, his father cracking jokes from the table where he is working. His home he knew he would never see again. Someone - a woman - pokes him with something pointed. He moves and they fall silent. He scuttles up the wall and screams to them in German. "I'm NOT a demon!"
I'm that kid on every playground
Who's always chosen last
That single teenage mother
Trying to overcome my past
You don't have to be my friend
But is it too much to ask
A small figure is huddled on a wooden playground, his back to everyone else. He is eleven. The other children make fun of him. They beat him up. They insult him. They don't understand he didn't ask to be born this way. He is afraid to go to school every morning but his parents work to put food on the table, so he gets through it. The headmaster did not allow him to scale walls or sit on the roof as he so loved to do, so he settles for the playground. Others were afraid of him. He sat alone at lunch. He had no friends. He screams when they beat him up but no one seems to hear. "I. Am. Not. A. Demon." he says through gritted teeth.
Don't laugh at me
Don't call me names
Don't get your pleasure from my pain
Cause in God's eyes
We're all the same
Some day we'll all have perfect wings
don't laugh at me
He is eight and in third grade, sitting on the steps waiting for Mother to pick him up. The first graders on the playground drag their parents toward him to show them the strange animal they've found. He is afraid of the grown ups. His tail lashes and his hackles rise. Fur bristling in fear, the parents see him and scream. He tries to show them he's friendly by holding out his hand to shake, but they look at him like they would a stray dog. Filthy and worthless. They beat him. Some use sticks and others use hands but it hurts either way. "Lord, Father, help me, please!" His mother steps in front of him and the pain stops. "Mother!" he cries. He hides behind her skirt. The demon-boy is short. He comes halfway up her thigh. "What are you doing to my son?" she asks. Anger is in her voice and she picks up her son lovingly. He cries into her hair and she holds him close. A man shouts at her. He is the blacksmith. "This is your son? He is a Demon, sent by the Devil." Mother slaps him across the face and walks off, the boy whispering and crying in her ear. "I'm not a demon, Mother, I'm not." she pats him on the back of his head. "I know, baby, I know."
I'm the beggar on the corner
You pass me on the streets
And I wouldn't be out here beggin'
If I had enough to eat
And don't think I don't notice
That our eyes never meet
He is six, at church, dressed in heavy robes that cover his face and arms. The priest asks if all the children come to be blessed. The boy jumps up without asking his mothers permission. He gets in line behind several other children. His mother cannot come and get him. It is the boy's turn. The priest asks him to remove his hood. The small boy obeys willingly, eager to please. The hood falls onto his shoulders and the priest gasps. "Demon!" he crows. The little boy realizes his mistake and tries to explain he is not a demon by showing the priest his rosary. The priest takes no notice and throws a goblet of holy water on the little boy. The boy wipes his eyes of tears and water. He runs away and climbs up a wall. Villagers reach futilely at him and throw rocks. One knocks him down. They begin to beat him, his mother and father grabbing through the crowd at their son. He cries and screams, "I'm not a demon! I'm not a demon!"
I lost my wife and little boy,
Someone crossed that yellow line.
And they day we laid them in the ground friendlily
Is the day I lost my mind
And right now I'm down to holding
This little cardboard sign…so…
A four year old boy is walking through the streets, grasping his mothers hand tightly. He is bundled up in winter clothes. A coat, snow pants, a ski mask. Not so unusual. Many people are wearing the same thing. It is cold in the alps. He sees a man with one leg sitting on a bench outside the train station. He has a sign that says in German "injured. Can't work. Need money. God bless you." The boy has no money, but makes a cross over the mans chest. The man ruffles his hair and the boy runs back to his mother and she picks him up lovingly and waves farewell to the man. The mother gives him some money to buy some candy, but instead of buying his favourites, gummy worms, he runs back to the one-legged man and gives it all to him. The man thanks him and the boy replies politely "You're welcome, mister. God bless you." the boy runs back to his mother and the man calls back "God bless you too, little one!" His mother ruffles his already mussed hair. "What a good boy you are, Kurt." The boy beams back at her. "I'm not a demon."
Don't laugh at me
Don't call me names
Don't get your pleasure from my pain
Cause in God's eyes
We're all the same
Some day we'll all have perfect wings
don't laugh at me
A man and woman are in their yard in the Bavarian alps. The man is fishing in the river and the woman is putting out the laundry. Suddenly he stops laughing at his wife's joke and puts his hand to his ear. "Do you hear that?" he asks. Hs wife shakes her head. Suddenly, a small figure becomes visible in the mist blown downstream from the waterfall. "An infant! Georg, grab it! Quickly!" The man darts into the stream and snatches the bundle from the icy currents. He brings it on land, both he and the baby shivering. His wife pulls the cover off his face and gasps. The baby is blue and fuzzy, with a tail three fingered hands. His teeth are sharp and his eyes are yellow and glowing. "He is our son now, she says. "We will call him Kurt."
Don't laugh at me…