"I just wanna ask you one question," he said. "As the assistant superintendent of this school, i decide whether you come in or stay out, so i'll need to make that decision based on what i think."

"Okay," i said.

"Your grade reports seemed good before you left trinidad - and almost overnight, they crashed. It's a strange transformation... strange pattern. Tell me why it turned out that way."

I looked at my dad, because i was unsure of how to lie to this man.

"Don't look at your dad, look at me."

"Well..." i started slowly. "I have a hyperthyroid gland. So it affected my motivation - i've been told about it by doctors," i lied. "So eventually... it got pretty bad and my grades slipped."

He wasn't satisfied. My parent's tried to elaborate, n he still wasn't satisfied. He gave me a scrutinizing look, and i guess i may have shown a little too much of my sadness.

"Well, i know that physically you had a rough time in the beginning of the year, but that doesnt answer the questions of the years  before that."

He asked my parents for their opinion.

My dad talked about a stage of rebelliousness that happens to everybody and everybody wakes up from. I was so infuriated by all the lying we did to that guy. Damnit. I've been through shit and lost almost everything and now i have to lie about it and give a stupid, fucked up excuse to everybody around me so i can sound like a lazy asshole.

He accepted me into his school, on the condition that i go into tenth grade on sunday until june 15 and get no grades lower than B- in every class. I dont know how i'll handle that but we'll see.. then i can go back into eleventh during the fall and graduate in 2011, only one year late.

I felt upset though. It was one of those self-pitying moments, i guess. I went outside the school gates as my parents waited for a cheque, and i lit up a cigarette to calm down the sadness that grew. I was surprised when the superintendent joined me with one of his own.

"You know what?" he said as he smoked.

"What?" i asked, trying to sound friendly.

"I know you're a genius, that's why i let you in. But i also know you're extremely sad, and that thyroid crap isn't the real reason you left."

I stared at the ground, and i didn't know what to say.

"I know the real reason is probably a lot worse and makes more sense. But i wont ask about it because i know your parents kept you quiet about it for a reason."

I looked at him. I was unsure of what to say. "yeah.. you're right," was all i could come up with.

"Maybe you should get some therapy. People who give me the look you are now usually already are in therapy. Welcome to narmer, anyway. and remember if you get anything below a B you're out of here."

He stepped on his burning cigarette and walked back into the building. I sat in the back seat of the four by four car and my parents didnt notice that i was crying - my sunglasses were on my face to cover it up. I kept remembering everything i'd gone through. My grades were bad since i was thirteen because i was sexually abused, not because i was fucking rebellious. God, i keep remembering and forgetting little bits and pieces of what happened back then, within the four or five minutes of excruciating pain that he inflicted. Whatever entry i wrote documenting what happened - even that doesnt hold the whole extent of what was said and what happened, because peices of it are being remembered and forgotten, over and over - as if my mind is trying to excrete the whole memory the way it did for the week after it happened.

And it's not like that's the only reason my grades were bad. My grades continued to worsen because my fucking parents were using me as a punchbag and killing whatever self-worth i had left. And my grades crashed in the past semester not because of a fucking hyperthyroid problem but because i got pregnant and the baby i didnt know of died inside, from my goddamned mistakes. It's not rocket science - anybody who goes through the same shit would have a little trouble behaving like school is the center of the universe and everything around it is meaningless.

I don't know why i'm weeping so strongly. I got into the school, didn't i?

Damn. There's a bottle of wine under my bed, with my name all over it.

Incredible how he could read you just like that - but with all the shit you've been through, perhaps it's easier than anyone would think.
I just checked out NAC's website. They got a uniform - blue oxfords and khaki pants (on guys). Is there some kind of school alliance that decides that blue and khaki are the best fuckin' color combination? Does it symbolize sky and earth or something? Lol.

Lynn, it sounds to me like the Superintendant is someone you should probably be honest with, hon. He said he knows you lied, so maybe part of your healing process could involve being honest with him. Turning to alcohol and/or drugs as an escape from the pain in your life doesn't help you, hon. I know you already know that, but maybe this is something that could help you make a new start... on many levels of your life...

You are in my thoughts and prayers, Lynn...

G'mornin! Just dropping by to say happy

Hi Lynne. Just dropping by to wish you a safe and happy weekend...