Lost In The Mind of Me

Part title

When I got out of school for the summer after 7th grade, we went through some financial issues. As in we were getting evicted. So, mom went through the whole court thing, and filed us as a chapter 13. Or for those who don't know, " It enables individuals with regular income to develop a plan to repay all or part of their debts. " so basicly, the landlord was told he can shove his eviction notice up his ass. 

     When I finally got transfered, it was already the 5th day of school. I had to wear a polo that was either blue, black, grey, or white, and jeans that were either blue or black, or khaki. The kids in my classes were not overly friendly, but I made some friends. They were weird, but funny. They were always laughing. The girl who introduced me to them, was Cherish. Cherish was also depressed. She also wrote a lot. Cherish introduced me to Brittany, Robert, Emmanuel, Miguel, and I found 2 of my old friends, Enrique, and Fabian. Brittany was   nice to me, but she also had a fiery attitude to counteract that. Robert was a goofball who played violoncello in my orchestra class. Miguel was always joking around. And Emmanuel was, well, grumpy.

    When I transferred, instead of being put in choir, I was put in orchestra with no clue what I was doing. They handed me a violin and told me to figure it out. I did and I played very well, within the first week of class, I had all of the songs mastered. I was the only second violin, with Cherish who didn't really play, so I managed the entire section by myself. I love my violin, I mean, when I started, I would play for 5 hours after school and I would play for 8 during days off. I worked hard, and that made me good.

    Of course I was still hurt about Joe, and so I tried to push people away, I tried to be ice cold, but it's not my nature. I made some new friends, and my naturally helpful behavior made me a common target for the bullies. Of course, I was rather rough when I ' played.'

    I hate it when people call me abusive, I hate it when my behavior is even slightly hurtful.

    Shut it you whore, all you ever do is hurt the one's you love, and you know it.

    You should go die in a hole.

    All of you need to shut up. I am not abusive, am I?

    Anyway, I was seen as the outcast, I was the weird one, the one most targeted by herself. I know I wasn't the only one being bullied, I mean, I put myself with a group of kids who were bullied, but I felt helpless.

    I remember a kid, talking to his friends and I was walking by them, and the kid swung his arm back, so I ducked it and did an uppercut to his abdomen. The look on that kids face was priceless, of course, I was repeatedly apologizing, and he told me that was a really good hit.

    I don't know where my fascination with science started, but I was good at it. I was having trouble deciding which science career I wanted to go into, I just new that I wanted to cure diabetes.

    I was diagnosed with diabetes when I was 9. I was in fourth grade.

    That christmas, I felt terrible. My stomach hurt. My head burned. I lost a lot of weight. I was literally skin and bones. My eyes were sunken in. I was way too pale. I vomited. A lot. I had to pee. A lot. I couldn't eat. I was so thirsty I shook.

Danny sent my sister Ally to tell me to do my chores. All I did was groan at her.

     So, when she went to tell Danny, in just four minutes, it was as if an elephant came in and jumped on me. When she returned, she started saying something else, but I cut her off with my shrieks of pain. It hurt everywhere, in every fiber of my being. Every breathe was an inhale of gasoline, poisoning my body. This time she went and got mom.

    I was then put into clothes and frisked out the door into the chilly january air, and taken to the ER.

In the ER, there were a lot of kids with colds, the stomach influenza, so on and so forth. Then there was me, fighting for my life, feeling so desperate to just die.

Danny, whom was carrying me, went to the front of the line and demanded to see a nurse. The lady at the front desk told him he had to wait, and he nearly went through the window to strangle her.

After we got into one of the rooms (number 3, which was my designated room after that) we had to wait for tests.

I groggily remember my mom promising me a cat, and then I went unconscious.

The next day, I was told we had to wait 2 hours before they diagnosed me. I had been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. They had transferred me to another hospital, farther from home. I was told that during that ride, they lost my heart beat for a couple of minutes. They told me that i was broken, and there was nothing that could fix me.

(A few weeks after, Judy and I were walking home from school. This stray cat came out and greeted us. He was covered in oil, and was ill. So, Judy and I took him home and asked Danny if we could keep it. Danny said no, so I put the cat down at the end of the driveway. When mom came home, Judy and I told her about the cat, so mom, thinking it wasn't going to happen, said if we could find him, we could keep him. I opened the front door, and there he was, just sitting on the porch. Mom named him Fuss.)

I guess that sparked my passion fuse, because i determined that i would cure diabetes, cancer, and every disease that dared to tango with me.

My new found friends lit the spark in me that wanted to be known as the tough as nails covered in imperial gold chick, that you would be completely stupid to fuck with. I determined that I was going to play with the big boys. And I mean football.