TOTAL RANT
Who hasn’t seen this day?

Just as if it was a normal day of ‘normal’ school I stumbled from bed, not at all enthusiastic of what was to come throughout the day, but only what would come at the end. Like normal I would go and do my chores, have a cup of tea and prepare myself for school. It didn’t take long; I never take a long time for this sort of subject. You just want it over and done with like any sane person. Where I live, there’s no busses or other means of transport; no not for at least another six or seven miles, Mum would always drive me to school. This would regularly take an hour. In that time however, we never did really say much. I would often listen to some sort of up lifting music like sum forty one or green day just to get me in that mood, while she would listen to north east galaxy radio telling of traffic and a small competion that people had no right mind if said person had entered. We would drive through brisk country roads, normally driving through a few counties just to get me to school. It wasn’t fair really. That I had to spend two hours of travel time each day to a place that was just one spit image of hell. Today we talked about a few things, I didn’t really listen to my music all that much. Recent events of departure had made us somewhat lost and lonely that we just slowly stopped talking in the end.
After a full hours ride in the sleek and fast saab, I was today just dropped outside of the gates. My mum didn’t have time to go and drop me off just up the street where I would normally walk in, she was much to busy today with all sorts of things. I didn’t rebel, I understood. Even though this is one of the worst positions you can be placed in. I took a deep breath then a sigh, ready to face another school day for the first time in weeks. My freedom somewhat gone, sent to this jail to be slowly brain washed into conforming. I wouldn’t though. I didn’t want to be a ned or a snob like most of these people are. I wanted to be me. Nothing wrong with that at all. Maybe to others, but in some peoples lines of view, nothing at all.
I slung my comic stripped bag over my left shoulder, feeling it tug on my blazer was an nuance I had to ensure just like everyone else. My other hand carrying my portfolio, filled with all my art course work, paint (that I was forced to use, even though it can burn my skin ¬¬ evil teacher), paint brushes of course, pencils, coloured pencils, pens, coloured pens, water colours, pastels, oils, chalk. Nearly every y utensils. Even a few doodles I may have done the night before in to finish off at school. None of this would fit in the other as it was already filled with a good amount of music and geography books. Never mind, science or English. I took the GCSE’s and applied classes that meant you had a lot to carry about. Everybody in my year usually stared, big eyed and full of wonder some days when I came in with an extra bag. This was only now and then. Today, I just had my usual odds and ends.
Lots of people looked, I didn’t look back or even think about it. I just let my music blear off, remembering that I had music revision on grace by Jeff Buckley, I automatically turned to that. I hated this song about the first fifty times I listened to it. It was boring and dull, not interesting at all to do a subject worthy of music with. I listened to it anyways, shoved a smile on my face even though, I didn’t feel like it on the inside. To a few people I did actually talk to, they said I was a very bold, different, yet confident person. They said I wasn’t afraid to get in trouble, afraid to stand up for people even when I had my own issues going on, afraid to say ‘’I’m different’’. I am normally a peaceful person, yet recently I had taken a course of violence to most occasions. Today, wasn’t any different.
Long story short. Second period quickly rolled around, reviling a tuff and unpleasant subject. Maths. I was never good at maths, always confused by the numbers and what you had to do. Yet some miracle by grace of god, I pulled off a 7c at the end of year nine. By some luck of god. Today, I found the subject a little tricky, and my course work partner impulsive as usual. Jack Adams. His name was actually well known through school, to be a very annoying and up stuck person possibly walking this earth. Now don’t get me wrong, I never base people by rummers I may here. But I believe more than that. Within five minutes of meeting me on the first day names came out ‘’freak’’, ‘’retard’’, ‘’chav’’ I hadn’t said but one word. Used to this sort of thing, I turned it around and made it as if they we’re compliments, his reply:
‘’you’re fucking crazy do you know that?’’
I simply said yes, isn’t everybody a little?
For a few days, he left me. But today. Wow today.
Today was fun, for all the wrong reasons.
He was instantly being his annoying self, yet today brought equipment to help him in his mission. He kept attempting to shine a lazar pen in my eyes. I just tried to ignore it and attempt to understand the work. Later it was that he grabbed my book and threw it down to the boys at the back of the room, were they graffiti it. Honestly, I didn’t mind this sort of behaviour at all. Sort of used to it. But now, this is what got at me.
As some of you may know, I used to have three siblings; two sisters and one brother. Even though we had our fights now and again, we got along pretty well actually. Cobey was common to bully just like me. He’s no longer around, and as people in real life who may see this know, you do not talk about that issue. But here’s what he came out with:
‘’Wish your brother was here. He was fun to beat around, it would be better than maths. Did that ----- really have to happen?’’
I dropped my pen an instant and stared over to him. I replied with a staggering tone, finally getting ‘’what’’ out. He said the same thing again. People would tell me of his bullies it was something I wanted to know after what happened not all that long ago. Somebody told me their was a jack involved, nobody knew who though. I shock a little, I couldn’t stand what he just said. I was ready to maul him. He kept on talking about it. All the stuff he did to him. All the horrible images in my mind, all the bad memories that we had experienced between my brother and I. I basically tried to ignore him. Until he moved onto our family as a whole. Our family in this area, is rather well know. We didn’t really do anything bad, we just were known for a past years ago, before my great great grandma’s generation was born. Who couldn’t ignore such a touchy issue at first, then deal with family ridiculing? As he shut up, he knew what I wanted to do. I basically told him to shut up before I put him in hospital.
I was ever so thankful for his reply ‘’go ahead then! Punch me’’
I did just so. Latterly jumping from my set and thrashing him off the floor. Taking the first punch on his face. A few after. Short to say we had a fight, he didn’t hurt me, but I sure as hell hurt him. After that five minute fight, a few teachers holding me back, as I surprisingly for myself burst out into tears watched as Jack cried too.
I broke his nose, gave him a black eye and possibly hurt him more physically and mentally. Making him cry felt great actually. Just like all the times he probably made my brother do too.
My little brother always did want me to help him.
Even though he wouldn’t have wanted that sort of result. He wouldn’t have wanted me to do it. Now several hours from the incident. I feel bad for it at some degree. It wasn’t the right thing to do, but honestly? Who hasn’t been in a fight, just because you want to feel like you need revenge on somebody who isn’t around any more, or about you’re family name?
Guys if you actually read this rant, I want you to help me
Any tips on dealing with anger
Moarning issues
Stress issues
Or anything else

I think I need help, but people just don’t know how around me. Because they go through similar incidents – well they don’t beat the crap out of people – like me. And they’re lost too.