My black eye is mostly faded. Thank god. Any more time spent listening to people try and comfort me instead of actually doing something about the problem is going to make me go insane. That’s all I’ve heard about since the incident from my parents and teachers and everyone else. I’m over it. Why can’t they be?
I can’t wait for the school year to finally end. There’s only another week and a half left, and I’m counting the days until it’s over. No more useless teachers, no more antagonistic bullies, no more wasted time.
The higher-ups made their last visit today. They’re pretty easy to spot in a crowd, considering the suits and all. It also helps that our local superintendent is rather tall, so he tends to stand out quite a bit just based on that alone. It’s even easier now that he’s shaved his head.
I watched as he and the others made their way through the halls. Occasionally they stopped and spoke to one of the other kids. I did my best to avoid them. The one time I ever spoke to the superintendent, he gave me this look and whispered something to the principal. For months after that, the teachers seemed to be keeping an extra eye on me.
I don’t blame them. I’m the stereotypical outsider. I’ve proven to have a violent streak. It makes sense to keep an eye on me. After all, I could be a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off and blow up their precious school.
…Writing things like that in an online journal probably is not the best way to prove them wrong.