My experience in high-school (1995-1999) was a cross between the state pen and the psychoward. You know you've haters when a group of people that pick on you start a rumor saying that you were going to what we call in Mississippi, "pull a Pearl".
The start of this rumor went back to the near-end of my junior year. I was in chemistry class and our teacher walked out. I let a chick use my calculator. When I came up on a problem that I needed to use the calculator for, I went to get it from her and she said no. So then I reached for it. Then the unexpected happened. I got a hard fist in the family jewels: not once but twice, SWACPagers. If you're wondering why I didn't her back, here's a couple reasons: Reason one: I'm a gentleman first and foremost. Reason two: She was pregnant at the time. Anyway, I took it upon myself to go to the principals office and report this. Why not? They always get me straight when I did something wrong. The assistant principal (Known to us as "Kool-Aid" because she's fat and red outfits make up 95% of her wardrobe)
could not believe what I said when I explained the situation to her. She did not believe that a pregnant female athlete would do that. Realizing that my plea fell on deaf ears, I returned to class, madder than mad could ever be, and I sat down quietly until the bell rung. Expecting results, I went back to "Kool-Aid" to see what was done, or in this case, not done. She didn't even bother to even investigate the situation. I gave her the expression that I was furious about the justice not being served. The next morning, in my US History class, a security guard came in to get me. He said that "Kool-Aid" wanted to talk with me. I was like "Okay, I'm going to get some proper retribution." It turns out that the assistant principal did nothing of the sort to settle this matter. So being the person I was, I went straight off, saying that this is why kids do the crazy things that you hear about on the news. But if this is something that y'all wanted to do to get the school famous, you're going the wrong way about it. The scenario continued into my senior year, where the group known then was the P.B.F. (Pretty Boy Foundation) started the vicious rumor that I was going to kill everybody before I graduated. This rumor was so well put that even the teachers began to believe it. My social life before then was already broken because of ignorant people who believed ignorant hearsay about someone, but this situation made it even worse. But I had supporters on my side through all this. One of my homies who I'd known since the sixth grade asked me if I was going to the prom. At first I said no, but it made me think. If I went to the prom, I'd prove the haters wrong about everything. So I went. I didn't just go to the prom, no, no. I crashed it. I paid no such prom dues and I got away with it. That's right. I went all out on that one my senior year. So when graduation came around, I was crunk. My mother (R.I.P.) was proud of the fact that in spite of all that I went through and what those jealous people did to try to stop me, was in embarrasing vain for them. The jealous one who thought I was still going to kill everyone still had that same idea. When I walked across that stage, I swear to you SWACPagers I was going snatch that diploma out of "Kool-Aid's" hands and give everyone who tried to put me down the finger. I got my diploma and laughed at all of the people who put me down. When I graduated, I moved on with my life, and I'll never forget it.