These Stories Are Lies

three

I'm just at school for about ten minutes, but I can already tell that this is going to be the worst school day of my life so far.
Most students look at me like I would be a very rare, wild animal that just escaped from the next zoo and could attack them every moment.
Why are they scared of me, but not of Octavian, the guy I had a fight with yesterday? Okay, he's the one in hospital, not me, but he didn't even gets any punishment for bullying and hurting this guy, and I bet he had done this before.
The teachers are looking at me like I would set something on fire or eat someones homework every moment.
I know it isn't very cool to care about what teachers think about me, but I always tried to proof teachers, my parents and probably also myself that it isn't a problem to move that much and to change school so often. I always had friends, good grades and no trouble, and now I failed after one day.
It may be ridiculous, but I'm so scared of disappointing my parents. Not even because I think they would be that angry, I just really desperately want them to be proud of me.
I always tried my best to be the perfect son everyone dreams of.
I don't know exactly why. Maybe because I think that they would think it's their fault if something would be wrong with me, or because I remember the time before we started moving so much, when they used to spend more time together, had more problems and argued so much. Maybe I'm just afraid they would start argue again every time I make a mistake or do something wrong.
And then there's this little part of me that's just afraid that they wouldn't love me anymore, that they would hate me if I'm not perfect.
Of course I basically know that this is ridiculous and that it would be okay if I make mistakes, but this little part of me just doesn't want to shut up.
And now I made a mistake. The principal called my parents last evening and invited them for the next week to have a talk. About me. I know they are disappointed and shocked because of what I've done, but we didn't talk about it yet, my parents aren't really good in those things, I never gave them many chances of practicing until yesterday. I wouldn't know how to explain what I did anyway.
The morning rushes past me, I don't talk to anyone, but I pay attention on the lessons. The only thing I really realize, expect the stuff I have to learn, is the empty seed next to me in the very first lesson.