May I trouble you to read the following excerpt, and if you are at all interested, click on the book’s cover and please purchase a copy of Tortured and Tormented, creating a school?shooter?
I feel afraid. Not the fear some of the other children express, but the fear of being alone. I hear those next to me whispering and giggling. I try to ignore it. They begin speaking louder. My initial enthusiasm dims. I try to hide within myself.
It is no use.
The whispering changes and they are now speaking louder.
The student closest grabs my stomach. A tear streaks down my cheek. The teacher hears and yells. The others, for the moment, stop making fun of me.
It is time for lunch. Angelo and I find each other. It turns out, because he too is overweight, he has been enduring similar torments.
I set out one of two napkins from my lunchbox and place the contents from within. My mother packed a baloney sandwich, just the way I like it — on Italian bread, glazed with ketchup. I open a small bag of Wise potato chips. I pull out an apple and finally a two pack of Tastykake butterscotch krimpets. There is a note telling me good luck, signed love mom. It doesn’t take long for the insults to start.
“Hey, what’s with the WOP bread?
“Is that blood on your sandwich?”
“How much food is in that box?”
Angelo and I ignore their comments. For the first time that day, I miss mom.
The walk home from school is rushed. We can’t wait to escape the torment. Mom has homemade anise and pepper cookies waiting. She is smiling, excited to hear about my first day. I don’t want to upset her. I share the good stuff. I like my teacher and the principal. I tell her about the janitor, Sweeny, who swings a large bell that loudly rings for us to come in from recess. My mom giggles. She tells me how important school is, and how important it is that I make friends.
That night, after supper, I go up to Angelo’s. His mother is also excited about our first day. He left out the bad stuff as well. We agree to stay close. We will have each other’s backs.
Sleep does not come easily. Of course, my friends in the neighborhood give me a hard time about my weight, but it is always good natured. What is happening at school is mean-spirited and intended to intimidate.
“Who am I?”
I am an independent, self-published teller of tales,
an author of scarcely any renown.
However, as a storyteller, I know who I am,
and with that persona,
I am both confident and comfortable.
I invite you to visit my website,
and/or Amazon Author Pages