I Am A Freak: An Introduction Part 2

Everyone pulled away from me and burst out crying; it was my first exposure to mass hysteria, or maybe it was herd mentality. Whatever you call it, it was my first time experiencing it, but not the last. From that day on, I was rejected and ridiculed for my appearance, with each school year bringing something new to push me further away.

Mommy dyed my hair first, but no matter what color she used, it still looked as bad as my natural color. She finally settled on giving me a buzzcut which did minimize the stark contrast of my bright orange hair against my pale skin. She also used something to lighten my eyebrows and even applied mascara on my eyelashes to darken them just a little. It helped, but only a little; I was still ostracized at school.

The bullying started in first grade, starting with everyone calling me 'Milk.' It became a game of sorts for my classmates to do things like pour the last little bit of their milk on my head... to help color my hair to match my skin. That turned into it becoming 'fun' for them to throw food and trash at me. I would be sitting there on my bench, minding my own business, and suddenly be hit with a half-eaten PB&J or maybe an apple core, which always amused them. That was when I began withdrawing, going deeper into myself and shutting out the world.

2nd grade wasn't much different, except that now, I was totally withdrawn; nothing they did to me ever mattered. During that school year, my classmates had found something new to torment me for: my awkwardness and clumsiness. A teacher tried to make me play four-square, but I lacked athletic skills. All that came of it was to be laughed at because not only could I not play the game, I would fall down a lot.

In 3rd grade, the new thing they ridiculed me for was the way I was built. I have always been a bit on the chubby side, which maybe wouldn't have been an issue except for how my fat is distributed. I have what are A-cup moobs, noticeable enough that I once heard my grandmother comment that I should maybe start wearing a bra. It wasn't meant to be mean; it was just her way of saying I needed to lose weight. Besides that, I have a thick middle with a slight belly, pudgy arms, and legs, which end in small chubby hands and little feet, respectively (or I would really be a freak...lol).

None of that would have been something to tease me about except for one other thing. Thanks partly to genetics and my being forced into loneliness, spending all my time reading or watching movies or playing video games, locked away in my bedroom, my most noticeable attribute, next to my Albinism and clownish red hair, was my big butt. It wasn't huge, but it was bigger than the butts of any of the other boys, even Fat Freddie, who was the fattest kid in school and was even bigger than the butts of almost all the girls. Because of it, Mommy had to buy me pants from the Men's department, then redo the legs to fit me.

I had gone through most of the school year when, one day, as I was walking to the drinking fountain, everyone started laughing and looking my way. No sooner did I realize this than I heard someone behind me yelling, 'Boom, Boom, Ba-Boom.' I turned around to see JH, the new boy in my class, had been following me with his arms outstretched, palms up, using them to mimic the way my butt moved when I walked. Thanks to him for bringing attention to my big butt (which would have happened without him eventually, anyway); I was from then on known as Boom Boom, a nickname that stayed with me for years until it was replaced by other, much nastier, and meaner names.

I got my first real bully in fourth grade, a girl I will call Lacy. I don't remember her from 3rd grade, so maybe she was new. I was sitting in my usual spot, on the bench by the classroom door, when she walked up to me with a small entourage consisting of three girls and one boy, the biggest one in school. Her followers blocked any teachers from seeing what was going on by standing behind Lacy as she confronted me. I was scared, but with nowhere to run, all I could do was sit there as she explained to me that I wasn't allowed to be seen.

She told me that looking at me made everyone sick because I was so gross to look at. She said I was only allowed to be in one spot and that I had to go there at recess and lunch and not leave until it was time to go back to class. The spot she chose for me was the narrow area between the schoolyard wall and the wall of the Boys' restroom, back in the corner where I couldn't be seen by the other kids. And that was where I would stay when in school and not in the classroom while I attended elementary school.

I have to end here, but maybe one more part... with the first of my confessions, I think.