Aaron Hill Case

You see, that’s kind of how it went for me. There were certain classes that I was the class clown in and there were some that I just sat in the back row with my head down. I never really gave high school a fighting chance. Mister P was cool because he was chill. He didn’t try to assert his authority on anyone, but he did have to yell sometimes. I don’t remember liking that. I’m telling the truth when I say that he used to let me cheat on exams. I would paste an answer key to the chair in front of mine and pretend that I didn’t do anything. He fucking knew. The whole hiding the answers on your id card wasn’t at all obvious when you’re looking at it every five seconds. But I liked Mister P. Mister P was a good dude and I hope he’s still teaching somewhere.

All of high school, I had friends in all different cliques. I wasn’t really all that weird, except for the fact that I wore those ugly fucking metal chains on my pants. I seriously don’t know what came over me to wear those. Who thought that was a good idea to sell those? Looking back, my clothing tastes evolved. I went from stupid t-shirts with sayings on them to band shirts and eventually to a few polo shirts in senior year. I guess being obese, I never really found a style that made me feel good. A lot of the time was about hiding. Hiding how I really felt in my clothes.

Fuck high school and stupid cliques. Fuck people who think they’re better than you, when in fact, they actually aren’t. Looking at Facebook and other sites, I can see how people who bullied me are living now. And I guess I’m not shallow enough to hold grudges. Everyone was an asshole in high school, including myself. I guess what it boils down to is that everyone needs a second chance. It’s not necessarily about just giving them one, but them needing it. I guess that’s kind of how I feel nowadays. If I see someone that was a cunt, I don’t hold a grudge. I treat them