Bookworm

Bookworm. That's what they called me as they taunted me, throwing dictionarys at my face in elementary school. And yes it was the hard cover with the thicker spines, it wasn't one of those easy paperbacks. I would know, it was thrown at my face. Gee golly, such fond memories. I guess back then I really couldn't blame them though. I was the one child who refused to play kick ball or swing on one of those gawd awful metal contraptions. And I was tormented for these facts, they probably thought I'd eventually kill all of them but still continued with their moronic ways. Very smart on their part, testing to see how far you can push a suspected serial killer.They just gave me that look, yunno? The you're such a loser, I'm scared to touch you, but I'll throw a ginormous dictionary at your face look. Or maybe you don't know... I realized they feared my quiet and different, because I read books , they assume I was plotting their deaths. I was though... Kidding...kind of. I guess growing up where you have not a single friend you put your time somewhere. And I learned to relieve my torment by escaping to other realities with reading and writing. ... I always knew I was different, I just didn't know the extent.  The character I wrote about is hiding in my closet.  Yeah I know... Oh fudge. He better not eat my shoes.