First Period - Phy.Ed

So I admit it.

I had a LITTLE trouble finding the gymnasium.

Gasp!

What's that he just said? Another startling confession by the Oh-So-Talented Tala Ivanov - Could it be? Has he truly failed to locate his destination and thus had to reluctantly rely on the help of a certain spandex-clad entity who pleasures in looking at him in very inappropriate places? Egads! This is an atrocity that cannot be fathomed by mere logic alone! Has the whole world gone beserk? Did George Bush just realize that he has absolutely NO sane reason to attack Iraq? Has the Trix Rabbit overcomed the odds and finally got to his bowl of Trix Cereal before the two annoying children said "Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids"?

Gasp, gasp, shock shock!

"Hello there. I understand you're new."

Oh, great.

Do I detect the voice of someone feeling sorry for me? /Go to Hell.. .I don't want your pity/ Yes, that must be it. Why? Why ME? I don't need help. Pfft. Truth be told, I'm not a very help-wanting person. Or even interesting, for that matter. Nope, not me. I may be stubborn /It's mine. MINE. So back off, or feel the full wrath of this photo of Boris in his interpretive dancing class - and I'mNOT just showing you half this time., distrustful /Yeah right. Of COURSE it's YOUR asthma puffer. The only reason it has YOUR name and address on it is because you put it there purposely to TRICK ME. Why do you hate me so much, man? I'm so hurt. . .. Oh, and don't even TRY to look like you're suffocating and dying. .. not gonna work on me., and pompous /I am better than you. You are not better than me. That's life, so suck it up./, but not interesting. I mean, all I've ever been accused of is attempting to take over the world and wearing too much mascara. That's about it. Pretty pathetic, huh? Just look at Kai. He's the 'interesting' one. Wearing grey WITH purple, shirt tucked INTO his pants /The stuff nightmares are made of/ which, unluckily for him, has the side effect of making him look like a deformed fruit bat whenever he tries to strike a pose. Such a girly man, he is.

And - did I just segue? Fucking Kai, making me think about how ugly and badly proportioned his body is.. .

"Are you okay?"

Interrupted. Again.

"I'm fine."

"O...kay. 'Cause you kinda spaced out just then. Anyways, the change room is over there, and if you need me for anything, just call."

Mr. Helomich, his shirt tag says.

Hmm.

At least this one has a name.

"Yo, dig this chick over here..."

"Holy SHIT!"

"God, they're like BALLONS!"

The sounds of a typical adolescent boy's change room. Disgusting. If they didn't gawk over weak, uneducated, slutty whores all day, they might have actually taken the time to do something. Like get an extra can of air freshener to spray the stenched air or --

"Look, it's the new kid."

"Yeah, what's-his-name.. . carrot head."

"Heh, right, let's just call him carrot head. .."

Damn faggots talking about me again. /Mommy, I wanna kill them. I'll even use Daddy's good knife.. ./ That goes right back to the 'Me-not-interesting' thing again. And.. . what? CARROT HEAD? /Should I, Mother? Should I pierce it right here.. ./ If there's one thing I cannot stand, it's fucking strangers talking about my hair. My hair is unique, pretty, and sexy. What? That's what Boris told me. His opinions still matters, right? Right? /Insecure little boy.. . stop this Weakness/ Whatever. I'll just ignore them. Because what damn faggots says doesn't amount to anything. Especially ones who have beer bellies. That's just .. . eeucchhhh.

"Hey, new boy. Hold this bag for me." One of the jocks admiring themselves in the mirror asked.

I looked at the baggage. I smelled it. Looks like one of the weapons of mass destruction has finally been found.. .

"I'll pass."

So why, pray tell, did I turn him down? First of all, I just don't like him. And secondly, I do enough slavery work at the Abbey already. By enough, I mean MY WHOLE LIFE. I don't need anyone else telling me what to do outside that hell hole. My third reason is that I just don't like him. Or did I mention that already?

"What did you just say, punk?"

/This one doesn't like rejection. Reminds me of a certain someone.. ./

"I said, I'll pass."

/Needs anger management classes as well. Whoopi di doo. ./

"You're gonna pay for this, punk. You're gonna pay..."

And just like that, he walked away. Which was good, since I couldn't possibly get any more saliva on my face. 'You're gonna pay for this, you're gonna pay.. .' What is he now, a Conservative? Feh, and one with cheap comebacks as well. /Should I go Cut him, Mother/ ANYONE should know that in order to make a mockary effective, you only use an insult ONCE. And the word 'punk' kind of lost its edge after 1993.

Oh. Crap. The Stacey Guy. The last person I would want to bump into inside a crowded change room full of horny boys.

"I see you found the gym." He actually winked at me. Shudder shudder.

Isn't it funny how, that in a school of 750, it's ALWAYS the overly-friendly-homosexual-guy-who-is-out-to-get-my-asswho doesn't see me as a pathetic, lonesome and helpless little boy? Or maybe I just have a knack at attracting the wrong kind of publicity. ..

Back to the gymnasium again. And, as expected, they're staring at me again. What is wrong with them? What's wrong with me? Stop, STARING, goddammit. Are you THAT desperate?

"HEADS UP!"

Crash.

And the pweety orange basketball flies out of nowhere and lands on Tala's face.

Feels like Boris' snakeskin belt. The joy.

"Omigosh, are you okay?" Some girl wearing ribbons in her hair asks, running towards me. /I don't need your help, you noob.. ./ Such an original question to ask me. /You're a noob.. . to my feelings/ So original, in fact, that I didn't even have the mental tolerance to reply with sarcasm. You know, why don't you all just LEAVE ME ALONE; DON'T go asking me to hold your bags, DON'T try to secretly touch my hair when I'm spacing out /Mr. Helomich.. . I'm watching you/ and DO NOT hit my face with a basketball and pretend it was an accident.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there and - that must've hurt!"

My ass.

'I didn't see you there'. Like hell you didn't. It's impossible NOT to see me. For one thing, my hair appears three seconds before the rest of my body, and that's just putting it mildly. No DUH it hurt. So suddenly I'm both emotionless and feelingless as well?

"She's right, you've got like a red mark there, dude..."

The gods must be smiling down upon me. MORE pitying. The trend just keeps on growing.. .

"Woooahhhh, that's sick, man!"

"Is that blood coming out of his nose?"

Again with the STARING. What's with the frickin' eyes? I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSE - What's this warm stuff? Damn, I'm really bleeding - God, woman, what did you do? I'm not supposed to face any more abuse outside of the Abbey! Don't you know that?

"Send him down to the office."

"Get some ice - "

And the girl still attempts to help me up. When will they ever learn. I DO NOT NEED HELP, even if I'm going nauceous, lightheaded, and dizzy from the lack of blood.

"Hey, it's carrot head!"

"It must hurt ... do you need mommy here to bake you some cookies?"

"Leave him alone, Ryan."

"No, he needs to hear this, 'cause he's so weak and needs his mommy..."

/.. .Mother/

I would have liked to hit that bastard square in the face, if the touchy-touchy Mr. Helomich hadn't come and escorted me towards the door and down the hallway to the office. I can still feel them STARING. /I want to carve out their eyes/ So first period didn't go so well. But I've faced more hardships than a simple nosebleed. WAY more.Hell, I can handle anything -

"I'm going to need your name and homeform."

Arrraghhhh. ..

That was the first thing that entered my mind when I saw the woman with the furry upper lip. Holding a pack of ice cubes, she stood before me clad in an uptight school nurse's uniform. Oh Lord. Excuse me for being bold, freaky-mustache-lady, but did you escape from the circus du soleil or something?

"Your name and homeform, I'm waiting."

Yeah, waiting for laser hair surgery. Needless to say, what happened next was that I ran. Ran like the wind, out of the office, blood dripping down my chin, and into the locker banks. I could hear Mr. Helomich calling after me, but I did not care. I wiped my face using toliet paper /When did you get this low/ from the boys washroom. And - Is that a pimple? No. Only a piece of bloody tissue. Heh. Had me scared there for a second.. .

So I crept back to the gym /Stop STARING/ and prepared to sit out for the rest of the freaking period. And I DID know what to do in case of a nose bleed. Hold your fore finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose, and other crap you have to do to make yourself look demented. Look at them playing basketball. Running around. Shouting. Bouncing that.. . thing. Good thing I sat out.. .never played basketball in my whole life. Russia is cold. What kind of idiot goes out in negative thirty three degree weather and risks slipping on ice just to sink a head-sized rubber object into a nylon net? Waste of time, what I think.. .

So bored.

Look at the floor, look at the ceiling, look at the door. Look at the door, look at them, look at my blood. Look at the ceiling, look at the wall, look at my crotch. WHAT - eww. What the fuck? Damn Stacey influence! Must erase possible visual disorientation by looking at classroom schedule. Good old schedule.. .always there.. .

Math.

I have MATH next.

And just when I'm going delirious. Ho hum.