Stereotypes

1.4

Castor

Hi, I'm Castor and I am tired. I am tired of the expectations. I am tired of faking a smile. I am tired of all the sick rumors. I am tired of being me. I am 17 year old Asian teen that doesn't act like an Asian teen. I bet when I said Asian you imediatly imagined me to have glasses, a collared shirt, and kackies on. Yeah, no. I am the opposite of that. I have thick black hair that swoops in my face a bit and brown eyes. You will usually find me in some kind of flannel or army jacket along skinny jeans and vans. I have a personality the everyone seems to like. I am one of the most popular kids at school and I have never understood why. Even when I try to be an ass people will take it as a joke and continue to address me. Girls are always throwing themselves at me and I have to act like that I am totally okay with that even if I think that those girls can do so much better than me. See, one thing I hate about being Asian is that people automatically think you're a genus. Well, if a genus is practically failing all your class then, yes, I am a genus. The thing about failing classes in a super Asian family is that you get your chopsticks of honor taken away. Yes, you did hear me correctly, chopsticks of honor. I don't get the pourpose either but all I know is it's a deadly sin to get them taken away and, of course, I have done that. But now we're on the topic of my family, let me get one thing straight. I absolutely hate my family. Why? Because since I was a child my dad has always hit me for not getting good grades, or not doing good in sports. I have many scars and bruises from my dad that haunt me every day. Now why do I hate my beloved mother? Because she sits there and watches me get abused, and does nothing. That is why I hate my family. Because of my parents, I have cronic depression, and I was fully diagnosed with this disoder, and you know what they did? They told me once again that I was a disgrace to their family and asked me what others would think if they knew they had a nut job in their family. So I never went back to the doctor, never got therapy, so I never got better. I wan to tell you all something that I want you to hold onto. Remember to ask your friends about a certain bruise in an unusual place, because you caring might give them the courage to make their life better. If one of your friends seems upset a lot, talk to them, make them feel worthy and show them your attention. Please reach out to those people, don't make them feel any more abandoned than they already are.

April 6th was a morning like every other.Wake up. Get dressed. Comb hair. Get a sticky rice ball for breakfast. Brush teeth. Get backpack. Start walking to school. See, if only I knew what would happen that day. Maybe if I called in for a mental health day I would be able to escape the fate of April 6th.