The Internal Struggle

3

The word family didn't mean much to me anymore.

I didn't let on to my mum or grandparents that I'd been cut because the last thing I needed was even more fuss. I just wanted some quiet, some peace. I was still at Primary School at the time. Kids that young don't need stress like that. So I just got on with it. I became a bit more introverted, kept to myself more and just tried to get through each day as it came. 

You know, most kids at that age would do everything they could to keep from going to school for as long as possible so they could stay home, but it was the other way round for me. Home no longer felt like home. School was now an escape and I dreaded that final bell every day at half 3 in the afternoon.

What's really unfortunate is that the act of one family member changed my opinions of every family member I had. I was wary, scared at all times of doing something wrong and getting punished again. Family wasn't a comfort anymore, and from that point on, my friends became my new family.

So let's take a break from my horrific family experiences and move to something a bit more pleasant.

I'd known Sarah since nursery. I can't remember much from what happened back then but all I know is that she was always so cheerful and helped make every moment enjoyable. A bit obsessed with cats but it added to her charm. Then there was Brian. A bit of a pain. The kind of guy who had to be the center of attention at all times. So when I joined his friend group partway through my penultimate year at that school, he wasn't very happy, almost as if he felt threatened now that there was a second boy in the group. And finally there was Paula, the "leader" of the group. The other two followed her around like two puppies looking to their owner for a treat. She was nice and all, but she had this "princess" personality where it felt like she thought she deserved everything.

Anyway, the four of us were a pretty tight group. I didn't tell them what had happened, of course. I didn't tell anyone until half a decade later, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

My fondest memory of Primary School is of my final year, Year 6. We went on a class trip to some place called PGL for a week and it was well known throughout the school that this trip was the best part of being in year 6.

Especially for me. A week away from my family, my house, my troubles. It was all I could think about for ages. When we got there, it was a massive campsite. Not the kind that is just an empty field in the middle of nowhere, but the kind that is more like a resort. There were wooden cabins separated into blocks and beyond them, just past the treeline, you could see a race track lined with tires for quad bikes.

I remember a gigantic 40ft Jacobs Ladder that we would end up climbing to the top of, and an enormous cafeteria that put the most luxurious schools canteens to shame.

But the one moment I remember the clearest, the moment that still makes me smile to this day, would be one evening when we were all in our cabins. Me and Brian were sharing a room with two other boys, Henry and Tony. If I remember correctly, Brian and I were arguing about who left skid marks in the toilet (Just between you and me, I was responsible for the brown stains, but I kept blaming Tony for them). Brian was yelling, rightfully accusing me of this crime and I was yelling back defending myself. Tony was crying on his bed and Henry couldn't care less about what was happening. We got louder and louder until eventually I, an eleven year old boy, told this other eleven year old to fuck off.

Suddenly, silence.

All of a sudden, my favourite teacher Mr. Wilson walked in our room and asked what all the screaming was about and Brian was real quick to tell him about what I had just said.

Now, it's worth noting at this point that Mr. Wilson and I were actually friends. He helped me revise for entrance exams for high school, he asked for advice on video game levels he was stuck on, and he was always really pleasant with me.

Brian however was not as chummy with him as I was.

After he had finished listening to Brian desperately explain everything that I had done wrong, I fully expected to get in huuuuuuuge trouble. I was looking down at the ground, shuffling my feet, playing with my hands, the whole shebang.

Then something completely unexpected happened. Mr. Wilson looked at me, then back to Brian, then back to me, then back to Brian. He paused and finally, he said to Brian "Well to be fair, you probably deserved it"

Everyone's jaws hit the floor. I had just gotten away with the primary school version of murder! I swore at a boy and somehow he's the one that got in trouble for it!

Mr Wilson took Brian outside and led him to the other teachers so he could presumably face some kind of unwarranted punishment.

Looking back on that moment, I have to admit I do feel a little bad about what happened. But in the grand scheme of things, it didn't have any long lasting effect on anyone other than giving me a happy memory to look back on with a smile.

If only I had more of those...