who am i to you?

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TW: Violence, Bullying, Homophobia

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Who am I?


I have lots of versions of myself. Mainly, I am Vasily Vagankov, the only son to my mother and my late father. I am one of the heirs to the great Vagankov family and I am currently sixteen years old, tenth grade in high school.


Let me tell you more about who I am.


If you were to ask me about Algebra or Chemistry, I don't know what to answer to any of your questions. I'm dumb and that's not my expertise. You can ask me about violin or cello or guitar though. I know all those.


Other things that I know?


I also know what it feels like to live every day of your life tormented by your mistakes.


You see, I'm gay and I was forcefully outed to the school because of a careless mistake which makes this even more pathetic. So if you ask me what it feels like to have someone step on your face, I can tell you what it feels like.


I shut my eyes hard, a few drops of tears escaping. The bits of gravel and sand on the tiled floor of the CR scratch on my cheek pressed on the floor. David put more force onto his foot that is atop of my other cheek.


There are feelings you can't really compare to other feelings so the best description I can tell you about having someone step on your face to the floor is it is painful. The hard floor is cold on my numb skin. The thought of germs and dirt on the floor is unpleasant. Then there's the unmatched force of David's foot. I can't fight it because Tony, Moises and Brendan had left me with little energy after they made me a sandbag for punching and kicking.


"Having a great time down there, Sissy?" David asked me.


His three friends behind him who are smoking on vape pens laughed as they watched me struggle.


I also know what it feels like to be humiliated everyday at school.


These are some of the things that make me who I am as Vasily Vagankov.


My cheek that was pressed on the floor was bleeding when David and the three stooges finally left. I'm sure my cheeks will be bruised again. Well, my whole body will bruise from today's daily torture with David and his gang.


I washed the blood and dirt off my face in the sink in that CR. It took me a while to get up from the floor but I survived. After washing my face, I looked at my state in the mirror in front of the sink.


I still look the same. Messy curly hair, face red and almost bruised, unkempt uniform, scrawny and overall just sickly. This is me, Vasily. This is who I am everyday.


I finished cleaning my face and left that CR. In the hallway leading to the exit, I stopped when the tolling of the bells started. Then, through the speakers around this old school, the 6pm Angelus prayer started. It's way past dismissal. And I spent so much time in that bathroom resting and willing myself to get up after getting beaten again today.

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