The Wedding Day

Love Letters: Chapter Two

New chapter! Woo!

Please listen to Ed Sheeran's song "Kiss Me". It's ADDICTIVE. 

Enjoy! xx

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Chapter Two:

Junior Year, High School

Most people say that your junior year is the most difficult year you’ll ever have in High School. And for the last Two Quarters we’ve had, I’m starting to believe that it’s true.

From a public high school, I got to be transferred to a private one – not to mention that my dad just had a job promotion. And one of the perks he was given was a scholarship for me. Woo hoo, lucky me. Well, that’s what I thought. Being in this school for the rich kids isn’t fortunate for me at all – especially in the last two quarters.

I admit, I am not usually the ‘cool’ dude. Because in high school, when you’re a guy and you wanted to study very hard to get good grades for your parents to be proud of you – you’re so ‘not’ cool. That’s what the make-up covered dolls say in school.

But wait, it doesn’t end there.

Not only you are ‘not’ cool, you also get to be picked on by the big guys. By big guys I mean those who are not physically big, but those who fall under these two categories:

First, the Big Stars. They are those people who are considered to be the most popular, most handsome, and most appealing male species on school. They are literally stars that seem to have fallen on earth to, probably, make the lives of those who doesn’t shine – people like me – suffer. The girls worship them. And if you go against these Big Stars, don’t be surprised if you see eighty percent of the female population in school holding a voodoo doll of you and cursing you to death.

Second, the Big Fists. If it’s not obvious, they are those who seemed to be the descendants of either Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan or Manny Pacquiao or even Undertaker. I call them Big Fists because they can beat you up BIG time! They are those who probably see everyone else as punching bags.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried to stay 300 miles away from these people, I’ve come to encounter a lot of them in the past two quarters. And to be honest, I’m so fed up.

They don’t ask you for money or food or whatever because they have all the money on earth for that. What they ask from you is for you to do their homework, their research, their projects and, probably, the entirety of their high school life.

Superhero – that’s what everybody’s calling me. Or at least those people whom I’ve given help – on academics, and anything.

It was a rainy afternoon and all classes have been dismissed an hour ago. The only people left in school were those who have trainings, some teachers, some random students and me. I’ve just had another rough day. Seriously, how long must I deal with those people?

I want to shout. And say everything I want to say. I want to curse those people. No, I want them out of my life. I need to let these things out of my chest, hoping that it would somehow relieve me. But…what I got was far more than that.

The roof deck – no one will see me there. Or even hear me. So I went up there and screamed my heart out.

“YOU FREAKING AIRHEADS! GET LOST! I’M SO SICK AND TIRED OF YOU! WHY DON’T YOU JUST MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS AS I MIND MY OWN! DON’T FREAKING RUIN MY LIFE! JUST DISAPPEAR! EVAPORATE! DIEEEEEEEEE!!!!”

Woah. That felt good, I must say.

My heart was racing as I tried to catch some air. I never knew it could be that…tiring. But it felt so flippin’ well.