Thad just finished my hockey game, one which we lost by far. I slowly skated my way off the ice, as everyone looked at the “losing team” in disappointment. I stepped my way over to the locker and to my surprise, a couple of kids had found a broken goalie stick, and the floor was a mess with splinters. It looked as if a volcano had erupted in the left side of the tiny locker room. These kids swung it back and forth, trying to break it, but had no luck in doing so. It had no bottom part, and it looked more like a cricket bat by the time. I looked at it and I felt the need to break it.
As I round up for my swing, everyone in the locker chanted, “Break it, Break it! ” and with one swing, it broke in half. My stick was a carbon fiber model, harder than wood. It was almost broken from playing and I decide to break it, so | slammed it towards the floor, and it breaks in half. I felt power inside of me, it felt good. No, it felt great! That was until the head of school comes to our locker and sees the mess, “oh no, we’re in trouble,” I thought to myself. He asks the room full of people, “who did all of this? ” I look around and no one answers, so after a couple of seconds I walk up as he is heading out and say it was me.
He starts to shout at me, and then asks 50 questions in two seconds. I am overwhelmed, and start to stumble on my own words. He then threatens to take me out of school, because I broke the hockey stick. “Do you want to leave fessenden! Well you will, because you are not coming back from break! ” I tell him that I had broken my carbon fiber stick, and that I had made all the mess in the floor. He heads out, and then comes back to the locker to only yell at me. He asks me, “why are there so many splinters in the room? ” | reply that it was the goalie stick, and he starts asking who broke it.
I have no idea who these kids were, so in my confusion, I think, just tell him you broke it, and that will hopefully calm him down. If I do that, we can discuss what happened, and I can tell him what had really taken place, but his rage only grows by the second. As I look around the locker, with the false hope that someone would finally step up and say that it was partly his fault too. But no one did, so I look back at the head of school as he continues to shout and overwhelm me with questions. Then he asks me, “why are you so calm!! ” as if it was bad I was.
I think to myself, well it would not make things better if I lose control of myself. I clean up the room, leaving only 2 or 3 splinters of the mess that mostly I did not make. And then the head of school takes my phone away for no reason. He then commands me to finish cleaning up the room and then go for my phone and that I am going to be in huge trouble. At this point I started to feel the tears trying to escape my eyes, so I breathe, and finish up the job. I take my phone and continue to studyhall.
I get to my room, and a million thoughts race through my head, each one overlapping the other. Is he racist, that idiot, 2 months of not doing anything, he hates Mexicans. ” I suddenly stop, and think, “does he hate Mexicans? ” | reflect on my past experiences with him, and I think. He kicked out one of my best friends, he went to check the bathrooms in the hockey tournament, because we were mexicans. He got really angry when I showed my cousins around Fessenden. And then the cherry for the cake, he put pato in probation. Could it be that he hates mexicans? “Tok, tok, tok” I hear someone hit the door, and then come in. It was James, and he asks me if i’m doing ok.
I simply say yes. Then Texplain the problem to him, and he tells me that some of the varsity players also break their sticks at the end of the season. By this point my mind is already set, this teacher hates all mexicans, and I am going to get kicked out. He talks to me, and I just say yes to everything, but deep down, I feel the urge to punch and beat him up, but I restrain from it with all of my will power. As I head for study hall in the school room this time, I get an email, saying that I have a conduct comment, and I ignore it.
After a couple of seconds, I get bored and the curiosity gets the best of me, so I open the email, and start to read it. I was overwhelmed with anger when I was reading it. It said things about me breaking multiple sticks and breaking a goalie stick that was not mine, and also that he told me not to lie to people or break stuff that was not mine. I get especially mad at the last part, NOT LYING about stuff. I think about that a couple of seconds and finally decide that maybe I lied a little, but that does not give an adult, head of school, the right to lie about this either.
I talk to the O. D. and she gives me a couple of advices on what | could do if this problem still persists. I thank her, and go up to my dorm. Once I get there, I do a couple of pushups and situps, to calm down. That did not work either, so I closed the door, and made myself a human ball, and sat in the corner of my bed. All alone and wondering. Wondering what will be of me. At this point, I had already called my parents and told them what had happened, but when the email reached them, they thought | had lied to them, because it said something different than I had told them.
So many things were going through my head, but one of them stopped me in my tracks. Suicide. As I thought for a moment about that word, and what it meant, I realized that I shouldn’t even think about it. But even though tried not to think about it, it kept going through my mind. After a while of thinking, I went to the bathroom, and started to punch the stall, and once I had a cut in my hand, I stopped to take a break. Then I thought, suicide is the easy way out, and that is for cowards. I went back to my room, and started strumming my guitar, so I would calm down. And I sure did. The next morning I woke up, and went to breakfast.
As I walked down the stairs, some people asked me how I was doing, and offered their help, but I refused to open up to them, I would just say “I’m good, but thanks. ” I went down to breakfast, and talked to no one, and listened to no one. I had only one thought on my mind, SUICIDE. I kept thinking of why I even thought of that, but for some reason, it kept popping into my mind, no matter what I thought about. At this point I was thinking of confronting Mr. Eveleth, and telling him what I thought. That I understood that there should be a punishment, just not what he gave me, it was too much.
I was really thinking hard about that, but I realized that that would only make him get even madder at me than he already was. So I just ignored that thought. As the day went on, I grew less angry by the hour. My rage level had lowered from a seven to a four in a scale from from one to ten. I had already calmed down and was ready for vacations with my family, and as I thought of what had happened, I realized that what I had done was wrong. As I sat in class, a thought raced my mind, I need to apologize so that I do not end badly this trimester. So I went to talk to the head of school, and apologized for my behavior.
I got a call from my mother as I got on the big jet blue train, and although I knew I was going to get into some trouble, I was ready. As I answered the call, I realized that I forgot to take out my hoverboard, and I told her to wait for a second and I would call her back. I called another teacher and after a couple of tries, he answered. I explained the problem to him, and he said he would go get it. As he hung up on me, I called my mother again. I was heading out when I got a new e-mail, what could it be? To my surprise, it was a conduct comment.
I opened it and read it over and over. The teacher had gone for the hoverboard, but what he never explained is that he would give me a conduct comment. I was raging mad once again. I wanted to kill this teacher, because now I had three conduct comments. If he would have told me that I was getting a conduct comme would have just left the hoverboard at the airport and not gotten in trouble. “Forget about it, he is not worth your time” | whispered at myself as the plane took off. As I returned from the break, I spent my days and weeks being low key trying not to get into any trouble.
It worked for a while, until eventually I got into trouble. I was hungry and the food had just been taken to the tunnels. I knew it was kind of a risk, but I was extremely hungry. As I was grabbing a snack, I heard someone go in the tunnels. “Shoot, what am I going to do! “| tried acting like if it was normal for me to be there, but I still got caught. As an old teacher yelled at me, I thought. “One more conduct comment for the list. this time I am dead. ” That same night, I got a call from my mother. She talked to me and I explained the problem once again. “Oh no, here we go again,” she said.
