Sophomore year, English literature theme seemed to be: good and evil, death, suicide. Animal Farm fit the good and evil, and death theme. Beowulf died in the end the another book. Julius Caesar died in the beginning of Shakespeare's play and his murderers commited suicide in the end. All the good charaters in Lord of the Flies died and the spoiled children got rescued. Antigone broke the law and died. Her fiance and his mom committed suicide. The king wanted to die. I know Antigone was being loyal and the king was a jerk, but all this trouble for burying a brother? Three characters would be alive if Antigone had just left it. I think some of my fellow classmates were disturbed when I explained my reasoning. Our English teacher had even had us read Then They Killed My Father, whick is about the Cambodian genocide. I stopped reading it after I had a nightmare of finding a decapitated woman in the forest. I also had a hard time getting to sleep as I imagined Cambodian zombies at the head of my bed. It wasn't so much the story being scary rather than it feeling real. I imagined the few grains of rice floating in their "soup" as if it were my meal. It was like a deja vu moment.
Also during this time I was starting to have anxiety attacks (even before the news). I'd be fine singing in choir and then I'd feel one coming on. I excused myself to the bathroom and as soon as I got there I cried. I was scared, but I didn't know why. I felt like my brain was going to escape my head. A girl in choir was there and escorted me to the school counselor.
The first time I ditched school happened to be Challenge Day (a day where Sophomores spend school time trying to learn to accept eachother). I entered school, smelled a propane leak, and walked out. I feared the school would blow up and walked over to the middle school to pick up my brother. I called my mom and explained to the middle school counselor why I was there. He must of thought I was crazy by now. I had never enrolled to the middle school before and already the first time he met me (when my mom was enrolling my brother) he asked my mom if I was autistic. Now I was telling him the high school would blow up. While other kids came back with heart-warming stories of Challenge Day, I admitted I wasn't there because I thought the school would explode. This made me feel further an outsider.
When I complained to my mom my concerns rarely talking to anyone day after day in my school, I instead got a lecture on how petty my worries were compared to all the children who died in NewTown, Connecticut. Unlike I, my mom has the wonderful gift of feeling world problems as if they were her own. She cried when she heard of the news. Naturally, I threw a fit and mom went off on how coldhearted I was being. My mom started crying at my indifference. Instead of feeling bad, I stared at her blankly, wondering what I did wrong. That I was capable of such apathy scared me. I wanted to change that.
I was talking to a long distance friend about my love of Wolverine and X-Men comics. He recommended I read Watchmen and My Friend Dahmer. The first few pages of Watchmen bored me (and a good thing I stopped, my parents stopped watching the movie version because it was nasty, my brother said the comic was no better. Figures). I had no idea who Dahmer was. I didn't know I was reading about a serial killer's teen years. It was eerie to see a serial killer portrayed at a human, almost relatable level in his teen years. What if I the next Dahmer? Or someone I knew?
I meantioned at one point about the Sandy Hook Massacre to said long distance friend. I was horrified when he made a joke about if a preschool shooting accured. After I told my mom about thew conversation, she suggested I go to someone about it. I instead dismissed the conversation as part of his sick humor.
In a future conversation with said friend, he'd mentioned about being voted by his class as most likely to do a school shooting. I didn't take this seriously and told him he had too much of a conscience to do such a thing. He'd sarcastically counter that with that he had the stuff at home to do so and etc. The conversation made me uncomfortable, so I emailed his principal and school counselor about it. I knew he woudn't really do such a thing and worried if I'd ruined his life, but I justified my self with "better safe than sorry". I found out later that the police came to his door and he ended up being suspended. That made me feel more guilty. Despite my fears, he didn't hate me. Did I make things worse? Am I a hypocrite? I can have a sick sense of humor and no one rats me out. He wants to got to Running Start, will it be harder for him to get in? Is "better safe than sorry" a good excuse to make someone else's life harder?...
No comments:
Post a Comment