We're Broken People

My Story

Hello, I don't believe we've met. I'm...call me wonder for now. This is my past being discovered. It's quite interesting if you ask me. But let's begin, 1st grade.  2012 September eigth. New school! I thought. How exciting! I think as I walk out of my building elevator. I skip happily up to the huge doorway with my parents trailing behind me.
That was only how it started. It may seem happy but you'll see soon enough.
A couple months later.
" Today we are going to learn about Martin Luther king Jr. And the day we celebrate him with." Ms May says while Nickki went and rolled under the table and Isaac roared trying to knock over a chair. Ms May ignored them and went on. A shadow crossed across my face as I heard what Nickki and Isaac were doing, I scowled. " Does anyone know what day Martin Luther king Jr. Day is?" said ms may plainly ignoring what was happening. I thought for a second and I remembered my dad telling me I was born that day. My hand shot up. Ms May saw my hand and said " Wonder". " My birthday! I was born on January 16th!".
I was born on January 16th 2006, and that year Martin Luther king Jr. Day was celebrated on that day just like it will in 2017.
Ms May looked at me and frowned and said " No.".
"Yeah it is" I replied trying to grasp the fact she was incorrect.
"My parents told me," I said continuing my statement confused.
" Well your parents lied." My teacher was cruel I thought. Why was she lying was the only was question stuck on my mind. She was cruel and I was starting to grasp the idea, but hated it. I sat there quietly with a single tear rolling off my face it followed the lines of my face and splashed on my tiny desk. Though it was a single tear drop, as it hit the table it was as if a boulder came crashing my all knowing. That Boulder blocked the river so when it fell the river ran it whimpered and became a waterfall. This sprouted my beginning hatred. Hatred that could not be subdued but locked in ones mind, saved. That day is the reason why this hatred stays built up anger. I was angry and I will admit, in another world where I did not have restraint, my instinct. Attack.
This day is the first of which would ruin the next 11 years of my life. Weeks to follow, I would be bullied. Pushed down staircases, abused, harassed my children. Children in my opinion are the cruelest beings on planet earth. I hate them to this day. But there was one boy, even if I cried, blushed, was bullied, a loser or whatever he was there. His name was Aaron. I liked him for him as a friend and the same for him. But I would soon be taken away f on a boy who loved me who helped me. I was taken. Just pushed to a new prison where my sentence is still running. This prison has a sun smiling for a mascot. I hate it. I hate the people in it, I hate people who help it, and I more broadly hate it all.