on the day the cast list was posted
i was so sure i had
gotten the lead
i almost didn't check the list
but then i did
and i didn't
get the lead.
and my high school nemesis did.
in a calm world i would have just moped
to class
and cut my wrists after school while
listening to fiona apple.
but i went bursurk instead.
i screamed;
it was constant and alarming.
the gym teacher ran out of the teacher's lounge,
with a napkin still tucked into his shirt like a bib,
and came at me with open arms.
i thought he was going to hug me
and if he had
i would have stopped.
but instead he grabbed my wrists, shook them
and yelled "what's the matter with you kid?"
my screaming became louder and more violent.
with force the gym teacher,
along with 3 other teachers,
carried me kicking and screaming
to the nurses office.
once positioned on the cot,
i told them they had better get to the cafeteria
and get me a knife
so i could slit my throat.
the nurse motioned for the principal.
i thrashed.
i spit on them.
and my best friend,
waiting outside the door,
dropped a tab of acid on her tongue.
eventually i was ushered up to
the school psychologist
who was an ugly man with seemingly no credentials.
i kicked his furniture.
i threw his pillows.
i broke his figurines.
i was told my mother was on her way.
he sat calmly
watching me
and asked if there were anything he could do
to make me stop screaming.
"you can get me a copy of that goddamn
cast list
so i can see it again and
make sure that this is for real"
i was later told that
moments later, at my request,
the nurse went into the theatre teacher
whispering to her about my breakdown
and how i needed a copy of the list.
my best friend was in her class at the time,
i was also told,
and
whacked on acid
wound up screaming out
"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE ALL DONE TO HER"
when my mother came
she smiled
and drove me to the beach.
there was nothing to say.
she knew the injustice,
she knew the theatre teacher had whispered in my ear days earlier
"i'm giving you the part".
she knew.
she let me drive her car around the beach parking lot
for what would be my virgin try behind the wheel.
it distracted me enough that the days events started melting into the pavement.
for the rest of the year
i ignored my theatre teacher.
where i had once cut class to go spend time with her,
i was now cutting her class.
or when i did go,
i would sit in the back of the room
smoking cigarettes and ashing on her floor.
she never said anything.
she knew she had no right to.
i had proven how much sound i could make.
sometimes you have to break the sound barrier
to get your point across.
sometimes you have to make it known
when you're not ok with what
someone's done to you.

2005-01-09, 12:51 p.m.
design by bluechicken

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