Siblings Secret

8--Ivan

March 14

I fucking hate school:

Hated the grades, assignments, tests, useless lessons, stupid questions, everything. Basically, anything about the world is thrown out the window. The only thing they got right was teaching us to read, write, basic math, and any basic skills used in our daily lives.

It's a shame they don't teach us how to do taxes or earn money, I know a few people who's older siblings are struggling with that right now. But no, they teach us about Shakespeare and how to determine if a triangle is an actual triangle.

It's a good thing they taught us that cause I don't know how I would survive in this world without being able to analyze Romeo and Juliet!

I sometimes wonder if the schools were complete opposites: they actually care about the students, teach us real-life shit, teach us to have the mind of owners and not employees, and are considerate of the mental state the students might have—I know damn well there are students whose lives suck ass, worse than a stray dog.

I wonder, then, if there would be fewer drop-outs, less teen violence, and less hurt if they learned what they are actually interested in.

I mean, who doesn't want to learn what they are interested in as a career? Like if a girl is interested in acting, they could use that as a life lesson while at the same time the girl is gaining knowledge of that. It's a win-win situation. But no, they just dump lessons after assignments, expecting us to do the work right and remember the whole play of Macbeth by William Shakespeare.

There is a fact that won't change: School is important. I can understand that not many children can get an education as easily as others. At the same time, I believe school is only relevant regarding what type of career you are trying to get, for example, becoming an astronomer or a psychologist.

  What happened to the saying "You're smart no matter what grades you got" or " All that matters is to try your hardest"?

This world is full of dogs returning to their own vomit and rats. People pretend not to see how shitty the world is. Everything is so fine and dandy. Or that was how my thoughts were before.

He showed me that the world was not dead after all. I'll admit I was an angry teen. Mad at my parents, siblings, myself, hell, even the world.

I knew the reason for my anger. I knew who and what caused such growing rage in my adolescent mind. I was so full of spite, but I knew I could not act on it since it would cause even more trouble. Having to bottle up such emotions made me feel like I was before I met him.

I remember the first time I and Levi met. We laugh about it to this day. We started dating at the end of tenth grade. It was young, but it was like an inner instinct of 'I knew' type thing.

I mean, what lover comes back after being yelled at, punched, and insulted directly, way too many times at that? Exactly. I was so sure he would have left me alone after all that. Hell, even I wouldn't want to deal with that, but he kept on surprising me.

He kept coming back and stood by my side every time.

Through all the violence I inflicted on him, all the insults–even if it hurt him, he just held onto me. The harder I stabbed, the tighter the grasp. He was so desperate, I didn't understand why; we were (still are) young, but he swore he knew.

At the beginning of spring in our sophomore year, everything was good—too good. I was scared even if we weren't dating then; I liked what we had. I didn't want anything to ruin that.

I will always remember; even if my body dies, my soul will never forget. The first time, he asked me to be his boyfriend.

In the winter season, school was still going on. I had a heated argument with my parents, and I ran outside to a nearby park to escape their words, their eyes, and just them in general. I remember feeling such hopelessness and restriction; everything in my body just wanted to scream to the universe until I started coughing up blood. I have never felt so trapped, even when I can move my body freely. In that moment, all those blissful times I had with Levi seemed like it happened just to become a happy memory to get through this since I don't deserve to have a happy life. How can I live happily when I fantasize about beating my dad and yelling at my Mom for taking his side all the time?