15:23, Wednesday 17th of October 2017 - Making my way from the headmistress's office.
Growing up, around the age of 12, my best friend's dad took us to his grandfather's farm one weekend. That weekend he wanted to show us how to milk a cow, so we put our boots on and he led the way to the cattle's kraal. He set everything down, the bucket, the wooden stump to sit on and when my turn arrived to put my skills to the test, I sat down, but believe me I was sweating my balls off; shaking. Upon my vigorous attempt to pull down on the cow's breast and milk it, I positioned my face too close to the beast's leg and I was send flying into the air. That kick to my face alone sent me to the hospital where I received ten stitches just above my eyebrow. Since that day I vowed never to go near a cow or try milking one ever again and I have my scar to prove why.
A year later, exactly four years ago, my dad enrolled me into one of the most prestigious private schools in the country, Winston Private School. I was separated from my best friend, but my dad has always wanted the best for me. With my grades, the scholarship provided by the school and the money he had saved up, he said I would be able to move mountains. What I didn't expect upon arrival, was how openly obnoxious most of the wealthy and rich kids were and that I would be roomed with arguably the worst one amongst them all.
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Julius Shepherds.
Son of one of the richest transport moguls in the country, arrogant, obnoxious and all down right a useless person to be around honestly.
The problem with Julius wasn't that he was just rich, it was because he knew it and it got to his head. He was never subtle about flaunting his money in people's faces nor was he good at pretending to tolerate people of the lower class. Upon the first day of meeting, somehow he had taken it upon himself to find out who the scholarship kids were, so he wouldn't be caught breathing the same air as them. So as you can imagine he was not at all the least excited when he found out he'd have to share a room with one of the lower class drags. Aka me. Gareth Baldwin. Son of an oil rig worker and all down right tolerable and forthcoming.
At first I didn't take it personally, because I understood how helplessly narrow minded Julius was, but a person can only take humiliation to some degree before they start fighting back. He had made it his goal to humiliate me in front of everyone, throw my school uniform into the pool, put dog shit into my school bag and tear pages out of my school books and notes, to name a few. I on the other hand, retaliated and made it my personal goal to take his belongings and sell them when I would return home. If I was going to avenge myself, I would at least make it rewarding. The nights before we left to go home, I would always make sure to take some sort of gadget, a watch, laptop, sometimes shoes. He probably suspected that I stole from him and he might have voiced it once, but there was never proof was there. The cleaners would come in every time we left to go home and clean all the dormitories and this was my way of playing it smart. This went on every single year, as we got placed into the same room all over again based on our performances, just a floor higher as we reached senior year. I excelled in grades and he excelled in douchebagery and to some degree, sports. That has always been the school's policy, in order to motivate us into helping each other in the different departments; academics and sport stars get roomed together. I on one hand, just thanked the school for keeping my enemy closer.
