Dear Die-ary...

I woulda used the Brain pic I used last time, but I try not to use the same pic too many times.

Today in class, I was minding my own business. I put my stuff (junk?) on a table, and left it on its own. The plastics come along, and pass my stuff around between them, each fingering (bad word to use, I know) my homework diary. I told them not to, and I know they heard me, as they looked up. But they continued going through it. I went over, and told them again, nay, INSTRUCTED they leave my possessions alone. At this point, one girl was fingering it, stupid girl. To make my order noticable (it was anyway, as the whole class went silent at this point) I firmly hit the homework diary with a VERY loud thud. I made sure her hand was out of the way. I then took up my book, and put it with the rest of my stuff, the whole class watching me (or so it seemed). There were gasps from the plastics. Their eyes bulged in their plasticcy sockets. Screeches of plasticcy horror came from their synthetic mouths. I took my seat (not literally).

I sat in my seat. I was enjoying what little life I had left. Then something bounces off my head. Then again...then again! I turned 'round. These somethings came from nowhere, from what I could see. I turn back. Something hits Sophie (my friend) instead. I hear, "Aw, you missed!" At this point I felt very paranoid. I set a trap. I was ready to turn 'round. The next something hits again, and I turned 'round quickly and sharply (the joy of having a quick reaction, as I've said before) and saw the arm of the culprit. I stood up. My finger pointed at her. "OI," said I, "I saw that." Said is not the best word...Boomed? It must have been loud, as the class was, yet again, silent. I felt power, for some reason. But she ('she' being the owner of the arm) was smiling. I stepped over. I demanded an explanation. "You hit ma fweind," is what she said. I came closer, as if in protest. I must warn you, reader, whenever I get angry, I have no control over my actions. I could swear, hit someone, or cut off my arm, and not know I've done it until afterwards. I feel...possessed...somehow. Anyway, as I closed in on her, she screamed out, "COME ANY CLOSER AND I'LL HIT YOU!!! I WILL, I WILL, I WILL, I.......(etc)" So I did. She screamed louder. So I said, "Go on then. Hit me. I'd like to see you try." She seemed shocked from my response. She turned to the teacher, and asked that I'd be removed, like a bag of rubbish left on the doorstep. Eventually I left, but clouded with rage. I am like a fajita (sp?), cool on the outside, hot and filled with anger on the inside. Thankfully, the throwing of the things had ceased to be.

In conclusion: on Monday, I'm going to the head of year, and claim they were bullying. Well, after all, they WERE bullying.