When I was about 11 years old, I was quite weird. I had imaginary friends that actually mimicked voices in my head, and visited me in my dreams. I would talk about how they spoke, and their personalities. This got me bullied, a lot. For clarity, ever since I was 8 years old I was bullied for this reason.
This bullying went from being called names and picked on occasionally, to being a complete outlier and coming home with bruises. Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention my “friends”. My first one I liked to call Mr. Star, and he wore a suit and tie, like a celebrity star. Despite wearing such formal attire, he was often informal, since being made at a young age. My second one was named Quiz, and made when I was 8. She was actually not even humanoid, and took the appearance of a crow with nerdy glasses. Quiz would actually be pretty important to my development, as she would encourage me to do my homework and study when no one else did.
My last one I made last, and his name was Mr. Smirks. He took the appearance of a short furry creature, that looked like a cat if it could stand. Mr. Smirks was the one that wasn’t the best influence. He would encourage behaviors like acting up at the dinner table, and would get me to do dangerous activities, like playing with fire. Mr. Smirks was any mother’s nightmare, especially with me almost burning my entire closet under his influence.
My bullying peaked in early high school, specifically 9th grade. Ah yes, the BEST years of our lives! At least that’s what they all said. Now, by high school, I had changed plenty, and learned to keep my mouth shut. My bullies were almost stereotypical in nature, using words like “Loser” and throwing spitballs. You know, the casual school bullies. By now, I had also forgotten about my “mind-mates”, as I liked to call them. That didn’t stop the bullying though; not by a long shot.
One incident, on one unlucky day, had changed my life forever. I was walking by my locker, and had bumped into one of my bullies on accident, though I made a point not to be in the same location as them. “What the hell?” My bully had tried picking a fight with me, as many times before he had. As he was pushing me and yelling obscenities, I tried pushing him back. His big frame stopped me from doing so, however. He grabbed one of my textbooks from me and tried to swing it at me. I had dodged it though, and he had gotten even more furious. As he stomps towards me, one of his many friends had secured me in a chokehold and was ready to humiliate me in front of the entire school. As he readied his hand for a long day of punching, a voice had spoke to me, and I had seen only the solid color of red.
“Kill. Him.”
I gouged the eyes of the guy choking me, and pushed him into my previous position. As he got punched by the other bully, I grabbed the pen I had in my shirt’s pocket and stabbed the bully with it. While he did block it with his arms, he was still bleeding plenty. Soon enough, the school’s security guard who hadn’t taken a PT test in at least a year, had pulled his taser and ordered me to freeze and stand down. Of course I did what he told me to do. What was I going to do? Make a last stand over something little like this?
After I was handcuffed and thrown into one of the chairs in the principal’s office, the principal had given me the rundown.
“Do you know how much trouble you’re in? Those kids have to go to the hospital now because of YOU.”
I had laughed. I don’t know how I found humor in it, and I never found humor in such a topic before. Today, however, was just different. I was turning into a monster, and it was clear that everyone was noticing. Despite how menacing I had became, I was terrified of what I was becoming, and what my future was going to be like. What would my family think of me after this event? What would my future be with a broken record?
Somehow, I had gotten out of that situation scot-free. When I got home, I had received an anonymous letter from an old friend. I opened it up, and was greeted with a small piece of paper. It had only said: “Again the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. - Matthew 4:8”
I don’t know who had sent me that letter, why they sent me it, and with everything going on that day, it had honestly scared me. Later that night though, everything became clear as day; my “mind-mates” were coming back, and nobody was ready for them.
“Hello, Old Friend.”