By Erica Stacy.
The bell rings. Every day there was that mindless tone that reminds him of the reality that must be faced. Every day, that one reality he wished to escape. The lingering whispers passed behind his back were worse than the ones that were made blatant to his face. He only wished to escape or even better, be understood. The bell rings for a final time with hope that maybe tomorrow would be different but it also meant returning to a place that was equally as cold as the one he was leaving.
It began in high school, new people, new subjects, new direction, new feeling and emotion. He had left what very few friends he had behind when they were sent by their parents to more expensive private educations. He was left with what he hated most, public education. He felt a lack of acceptance immediately. He was different, he had come from an all-boys college and was now suddenly thrown into what seemed to be a unisex, unstructured and out of control zoo.
Thoughts would plague his mind every now and then. Maybe it was because he dressed or groomed himself properly, maybe because he used a satchel instead of a backpack or maybe it was because he wore a knit sweater instead of a hoodie. Maybe it was these few things that forced the male students of this school to not appreciate him. They snickered as he passed and yelled vulgar comments once he was an appropriate distance so he had no chance to respond.
He was interested in fashion, the current trends and threads were so intriguing. He wanted to be a model, work in the industry and most importantly be with people that shared his thoughts and opinions. He wanted to be with those who understood. The females were not as horrible as the males. There was a selected handful that made that hell hole worth being in. The other girls just ignored him or encouraged the males to continue the hurt.
Once returning home there was no one. His father worked in the mines as an electrician and barely had time to share a coffee when he returned for that short time before he had to leave for another unknown amount of time. His mother was one of his best friends. She once loved to travel and socialize. Now she stayed at home to mother her four children. But home always felt so cold, there was almost never enough time for him with three other children much younger than himself that needed his entire mother’s attention. So he stayed in his room and dreamed of the life he desired.
Four years passed and finally the last year of high school arrived. These four years felt like a life time but he knew this life was only to begin. It was this year that would make him and change everyone’s perception of him forever. He never quiet grasped after all this time why those people were still immature enough to call him names or accuse him of actions that had never taken place. He was none of this; it was far from the truth.
It was the last day of school, ever. No rules, no responsibility, no nothing. The school was in chaos and as the bell rung that morning he knew it would be the last he would have to hear the tone he dreaded most. He would finally be free. Free of judgement and free to be his own person without being looked down upon by majority of his peers. He could finally have the one thing he wanted most.
He approached his final class. Escaping this place almost in his grasp. Walking through the corridor toward his classroom there was an unusual silence for how chaotic this day had been. He placed his hand on the handle and proceeded to enter the room. He stared at the whiteboard in shock, disbelief and mostly anger. In bold, block letters was written the most insulting, vulgar and hurtful thing he had ever read. The class erupted as he stood there. He felt he had finally been pushed too far; it had been four years without him standing up for himself. Four years with not one of those people knowing the truth. He realized at this point that not one of these people mattered. The chance of seeing any of their faces ever again were close to zero.
He strode toward the whiteboard, wrote an equally insulting comment in response and said things he to this day is not proud of. He threw the marker onto the desk and slammed the door behind him. As the door closed behind him and he walked away he knew after this moment his life could begin. He finally said what he wanted to say for all these years and he felt free. Finally.
Two years later he is living his dream. He gained an internship at a fashion magazine in Melbourne and has moved there to live with three others who too share his passion. He works nights at a popular bar where he met his now girlfriend of one year. He is finally happy. Those rumours and insults that once made him feel like nothing have shaped him to rise above the rest and have pushed him to follow his dream to become the person he is today. After all, what does not kill you makes you stronger, right?
