Eerie Jerry

Picked on

Time passed until it was the spring term of the semester. It was early February and it wasn't too cold anymore. I can wear my mid-rise cargo shorts I really liked. I was getting dressed with them as I was getting prepared for school today. But, I learnt a lot more from the ghosts than Ms. Loughty. George Watkins had introduced me to a few friends of his who helped me with my homework and my assignments I had to do on a daily basis. They assisted me with math, ELA and science. Except for one subject, which was arts and humanities, as I five and a half year old, I can do art well. Ms. Loughty and my peers did find it rather peculiar that I was being so well-taught on everything and acing my assignments with good marks. But, they can't see ghosts, so that's a huge advantage for me to outstand everybody and give me some respect. Even Louis O'Quinn had his mouth shut for a while because my wits are stronger than his. Ms. Loughty said I am such a bright pupil, she didn't want to call on me anymore to answer questions. She would always say, 'Somebody other than Jeremy, he's kicking your butts on this!' When my report card came in on the end of the first half of the semester before winter holiday, I was so proud of myself and I told my parents all about it. My father's eyes did light up and said, 'Way to go, Jeremy!' My mother said, 'Oh, good job, nice work, keep it up.' My father had more joy in his voice than my mother. My mother said 'keep it up' for a reason, she wants me to stay as I was and never change. I should be like a statue to her and just stand there, lifeless. I realise even good marks will never appease her, but they did tell my father he was proud of me and that's what mattered more to me than my mum, who just doesn't care. I asked them to write on it and they agreed. My father wrote, 'Nice work!' with black ink from his ballpoint pen in his usual style I can decipher. My mother wrote 'Keep up the great work!' in cursive, which took me a while to read. They didn't write any smiles or write they were proud of me, I guess they were just putting on a show like they actually cared. But, I saw they both wrote 'work' on their quotes. That, I just questioned, do they like me for my work? It wouldn't phase me if they did because they're more proud of the work than me, who does it. The night after my first day of year one when I brought home that red coloured drawing from the Armstrong's house came back with my results from the experiment. When my mother called for me for breakfast, I quickly got dressed and I just wanted to see what would happen when I came back home that night. Before I left for school, I took the page out from my backpack and I was coming down the stairs while I was carrying it. I had the drawing in my left hand and my mother was cooking scrambled eggs, with potato cubes and polish banger bits and a glass of oatmilk for me to drink during my first meal of the day. When she turned to cook, I snuck behind her and I took one of her magnets from her holidays she would bring home and I posted it on the front of the refrigerator. I used her Ireland magnet that was shaped of the country with the golden text 'Ireland' on it with gold designs of crosses and sat at my chair for breakfast. She looked at the drawing on the fridge and just thought nothing of it and piled my breakfast on a plate and added a fork and placed it before me as I sat at the table. She went on her phone and brewed some Barry's Tea that was highly caffeinated to give her energy throughout her day. As I ate my breakfast, she was texting and bobbing her teabag in her favourite mug. A white mug with dark pink text that said 'Girl Boss.' She never spoke to me when I was eating or said anything about my colouring, I was just nothing to her. Just a nuisance in her eyes as they were more focused on her phone conversation than her child. After I finished my breakfast and drank my oatmilk, I cleaned my face with a napkin she had for me and it was time to go. She drank all of her tea and I grabbed my backpack and shoes out of the cubby and put them on as we were coming out of the house. I was gone to school for the usual seven-hour round, but my father picked me up from school because both of Harriet's parents were working and she had to stay with us for a while. When Harriet comes to stay with us, she barely does anything other than watch the tellie, colour in colouring books she would bring and do her homework, there was hardly anything to do in my house. But, I went to the fridge and I saw my red coloured page was gone. I sort of half-expected Mum to do that, but I didn't think she would do it right away. I felt a bit crushed and I asked my father what happened to the red picture I put on the fridge and he said she put it in my room. I went upstairs to look for it and I saw it on top of my clothes cubby. I was relieved she didn't throw it away, but I was kind of mad about it. Was my colouring really that embarrassing? Was it too ugly for her or her friends to look at? After Harriet left that night and when I got to see my mother the next morning, I asked her why did she take down my colouring on the fridge and she just said it should stay in my room. She said she wanted 'no clutter' on the fridge. There is barely anything on the fridge and she takes down a paper that I coloured on? What the hell? I was just grateful she didn't ball it up and pitch it. If I fought with her about it, she probably would have spanked me before school. So, I just kept my mouth shut, but I had no idea how long, I was so upset with her. At school, there had been some picking on me here and there by my fellow classmates and I would try to rebut to them, but they never leave. They would ask if I was cheating on assignments and still making fun of me for playing with racoon poop and playing with a 'girly' ride. Some kids did spread rumours about me saying I was looking into answer guides and cheating on assignments. I would ask them have they seen me with them and they said no, but they knew I had the answers somehow. On a computer or phone, yes, but I had none and I'm sure they have access to them. We aren't allowed to have any electronics in school or unless they were diabetic pumps or any sort of health equipment needed to keep someone alive. Phones, tablets, outside computers or smart watches were all excluded. But, yet, I was the blame for being a cheat somehow. This one day, a fellow student and an asshole, Keir Robinson, told Ms. Loughty something in secret. I just thought nothing of it and I was working on a worksheet until Ms. Loughty called my name and escorted me out of the classroom and into the hallway. I complied and asked why was I being escorted out and she tells me that Keir saw me with an answer guide in my possession one day. I just stood there shocked and I assured her that it wasn't true, but she said there was no proof that it wasn't a truth, but she said that Keir said a certain date when it happened, the twelfth of November. I provided my claim for what I did that day, just our usual work, lunch and break time, nothing related to Keir's claim. She said that if Keir saw it, than other students saw it too. She pulled Keir out of class with us and asked if there were any other witnesses to seeing me commit something I didn't do and he had the nerve to pull his best friend's name, Louis O'Quinn, out from his ass. She pulled Louis from out of class and asked him if he saw me take an answer guide from her desk. Louis said he and Keir did see me do it, but really, they were framing me. They tattletaled and lied! This was such bullshit, I couldn't believe my own ears! Ms. Loughty found in favour of Keir and Louis and had me punished by sitting away from the class on the 'time-out table' and the other kids just snickered and ridiculed at me. I felt embarrassed and bullied for being smart. I had to sit there for the entire day and think about something I didn't do and have my break time privilege taken away. When I was taken home later that day, Ms. Loughty called my parents and told them. My father was disappointed in me and my mother not only yelled at me, but whipped me really bad as well. She said she had some suspicions about me being so smart in class. I felt like I had nowhere to turn and I was stuck in a crossroads. If I fail in school, I would be yelled at and neglected and humiliated and if I succeed in school, I would be labeled a cheater and still be yelled at. I was in hell and I had no idea what to do. When I asked the ghosts about it, they just said there was nothing they could do about my problem because they couldn't harm another human being and they can't touch them. I was dismayed, I had nobody to help me and my situation with school and at home was getting to be a dark abyss for me and I had no way out. I just kept doing my best in school and making good marks, but Ms. Loughty, the other kids and my parents thought I was still cheating, so Ms. Loughty kept a good eye on me every time I was in school. At home, my parents would dig in my backpack to see any answer guides inside and they wouldn't find it, but they still don't trust me. People still believed I had access to the answer guides, but their was no evidence, except for that lying bastard, Louis O'Quinn, he was really pushing my buttons. Now, to today, I'm now five and a half years old since the fourth of December passed and my mum has a new car, a red Aston Martin she bought before Christmas. She wanted to surprise her family with her new car on Christmas, but I learnt to never get fingerprints on her car or she will give you hell for it. On Christmas morning when we were headed to Aunt Matilda and Uncle Stewart's manour, I got really bored on the drive there because it was five miles away. I sat there in the back seat, bored and I was really fascinated by the cold air that caused condensation on the inside of the windows and I touched the window. When she saw that, she cussed and pulled the car over. She got out, smacked me in the face and yelled at me saying I ruined her car and now it looked embarrassing. Embarrassed by a fingerprint and I was still five at the time, what the hell did this rich bitch expect? I cried my eyes out because that hurt and she yelled at me to stop before we got there. It hurt so bad and I wanted to keep crying, but she would have kept at yelling at me or smacking me until I stopped, so I had to suck it up until I got to the bathroom at Aunt Matilda's manour. When we got there, I had to get out and Mum parked her new car to where nobody could see the window with my fingerprint, she was just out of my control and I hate her so much for this petty tosh. But, the Christmas torture was far from over, Uncle Stewart had some of his business associates over and they were old men. They knew about my 'imaginary friends' and what my mum does brag to them about me and they would use it against me to have some fun picking on me. They would call me 'the soap eater, the nut or Cole Seer.' They would say to take me out of the room because they were allergic to nuts and laugh at me like I was a tellie show to them. But, I don't want to think about it anymore, they really try to break me and it would only be a matter of bloody time before I would snap and think my life would be nothing more than a joke. "Jeremy, come on, now!" Mum said to break my thoughts and get me ready for school. I got my green dinosaur shirt on, my black cargo shorts, my Power Rangers socks, my velcro trainers and my backpack and I went out the door to another day of this school hell.