I could remember clearly the last time I was brutally picked on.

2008, the year I had learned how to be a man.

It was only a matter of time until I stood up for what was right. It was one of those moments where you'd realize things got out of hand, and carried away.  

I was 14 years old, on my way out of the classroom of Fredonia middle school, when suddenly a tall, expressionless, heartless, careless boy had followed me out as I was heading my way to the bathroom. The day was dark and cold, and not a positive thought ran through my mind.

I went into the bathroom, stared in the mirror at myself and wonderd, this isn't the life i wanted to live, none of it was fun, and rebellious like i've dreamed about in elementary school.  To tell you the truth, it was more like jail.  I've had wet, rough paper towels whipped at my body, and thrown at me numerous times. There were many times when i've stood up and may have said something to these bullies, but it wasn't enough regarding to the fact that they never stopped and continued going on and on until i've found myself crying in the bathroom stalls waiting for school to end and let out, or convincing to my parents I was sick and not feeling too well

just to avoid my own tears.

 I was a bit sensitive, and everytime i'd tell an adult they'd brush the idea off like it never even bothered.  Now, that bugged me, I just wanted to be liked. I've tried many times to relate with kids in the classroom, but the autism never helped.  you could even say i was weird if you would've known me at that age.  A lot could say I was misunderstood.  Though, my only purpose to get through each and everyday was to connect with my enemies in some way.  Friendship was all that ever mattered to me at that pont.  They simply chose to follow me around, as much as i've given compliments, or considered friendly gesters, it never ended.  But you know, on the upside, being torchered in ways that I was, made me the man i am today.

My scars proved them wrong.