About Me

Chapter 5: Second class (groep 4)

prepare, this is going to be a tough one.

In second class a guy came into our class. He was called Bo, and almost everyone already knew him. He was okay, he also was popular. I don't know him well, but he cries really fast. My middle sister didn't like him, because when we were playing Virus tag. And my sister ticked him he just lay down on the ground and started crying. It looked really stupid when I think about it. His "followers" were worried and wanted to give him a second chance. My sister was mad about it and complained about Bo all the time, because I have to admit it, he was a crybaby. For the rest he was pretty nice, but yeah, he was a crybaby. So he was new and came from Jakarta if I'm right.

Second class was worse with the bullying. One time I got mad and my teacher Marleen, tried to catch me, she was too slow for me, and it was really funny actually, so she went inside, after a few minutes I went inside too. She apparently was hiding behind the stairs, but she was talking to a other teacher, I saw her and ran back outside, she saw me running away, but she was too late. When I went back to the class she tried to pull me out of the classroom, table, chair and all. When I was on the hallway I locked myself up in the WC. When I finally came out the teacher made a swift and gave me a hot chocolate.

I liked Marleen, she was strict, but except for that moment I really admired her. She could snap her fingers very loudly and I thought it was really cool, so I started practicing, and now I can snap my fingers loud too, I never told her, but I think it's pretty funny.

In second class I got my first pair of glasses. I liked them really much, but other kids not so. I also started with therapy, other kids were jealous of me that I missed school sometimes because I had to go there. But I didn't like it that much, the therapist was nice, and there was candy, but I did not want a other reason to get picked up on. And when you start with therapy you're stuck with it forever. I'm still. And every time you have to tell your story again. And you don't like them sometimes, but you still have to tell everything because otherwise they can't "help" you.

But that Therapist was really nice, there was a play room and always when my parents came I went to hide. I'm not so big, not so tall, so I did go in a box one time, I fitted perfectly, and mostly my father did pretend to not know where I was, but this one time he really couldn't find me, and it was really funny.