The Story of Tragedy

My name is Paulie, my last name never revealed. I was a tunkhannock kid. Born with ASD, rejected by my father because he never believed I had it. I was verbally and physically abused as a small child because I was different. My mother took care of me the most, I was afraid of my father, everytime I looked in his eyes, I could see hatred in them. After my parents went through a messy divorce, I went to visit my father again, but as always I was afraid of him. He was short tempered, barely saw him because he was fighting in the war. I felt lonely, and only had my sister Madison. We went through quite a bit. Eventually I was at home with my mother again, father got better, he wasn’t so nasty, but still I feared him, as I imagined if he’d hurt me again mentally, and physically. As time went by my fear of my father grew less gradually, and my father became somewhat nicer. Everything went good in school, A’s on everything, awesome friends, but Middle School came, and things changed for the worse. I had an aide that was always with me, who understood me. She was Mrs. Corby, she knew who I was, and knew how to make me feel better. She was gone, I was supposed to have an aide in fifth grade, but the school got rid of her because they wanted me to be independent. I was bullied constantly, because of the way I looked, the way I dressed, the way I act, even the teachers I thought were monsters to me. Because of all that bullying, my grades collapsed from A’s to D’s and C’s. I had to walk to my babysitter’s house and I was misunderstood alot. I tried to fight the bullies, but they felt no pain. I tried to run away, but they’d grab me and stab me with a stick. My life became a living hell, I didn’t understand why me to be bullied, I was such a nice boy, never being mean, or nasty. I was constantly getting bullied and manipulated, the bullies got away with it, even when we called the police, they got away. Screw you principal was all I wanted to say. No one wanted to understand me, throughout my whole school life people were mean to me, stabbing me, calling me stupid, retard, ugly. Ninth grade, and tenth grade became the point of my darkest life experience. Ninth grade I was getting bullied and manipulated by people, and they never got in trouble. Because our school sucks, the resource officer is biased, and so is everyone else. I was sexually assaulted by a man who recently joined the Marine Corp, but the school didn’t press charges, and neither did my family, I was scared of everything, my friends, and him. I had to retreat to another Mrs. Corby when I was afraid. I remember barging out of my spanish teacher’s room because I had enough of the rumors spreading that I told on this “thing” for walking around the gym naked, and other rumors like that. There were witnesses, but they were this “thing”‘s friends, even the gym student teacher was a friend of his. I helped this one girl, but realized she was nasty, and I was a victim. I was always picked on, and always put down. Facebook was a nightmare, people were mean to me, and I posted stuff asking for help. I was still being bullied……eventually it became my birthday, September 26. The evil girl wished hell on me once more. My birthday present to me was the name of Tragedy. I became Tragedy, the man rejected, and suffered from years of cruelty. I believed that I was born to be the hunchback of notre dame. Looked upon as ugly, and pathetic. There was this one girl. Karlie was the name, she helped me through those months of pain. Getting used, and bullied, I decided to end my life, but it failed, and then I ended up in a hospital in Kingston. After that I became friends with Karlie and Sarah. I became suspicious of her, and realized I fell into the hell hole once again. They were manipulating people to get what they want. I gave them gift cards, money, candy, and all they gave to me was a big “F U you suck”. I was crushed, it ruined my Christmas Break, I wanted to be friends with them but I couldn’t I tried apologizing for me yelling at them for being mean to me, but my judgment was impaired by Abilify. I cried for days, I cried so hard, until I decided it’s time for Death to take me away. I tried to hang myself, and it failed, I didn’t know to tie a Hangman’s Noose, so I just fell to the ground crying in pain, I wanted to die, to go boom, gone away. I didn’t care about anyone anymore. I just wanted to die. My father was being mean to me about the situation. No one understood. After that, I went to First Hospital in Kingston again. I was full of rage, wanting to destroy Karlie, Sarah, and everything. When I left I decided to put an end to their tyranny, they used me as they used everyone, I encountered them, I couldn’t stop them even my letter of calling a bastard, and telling them it’s their fault for being evil and sending me to my doom. They reported me and I fell into Homebound. I couldn’t do anything fun, I couldn’t do Track and Field, couldn’t say hi to my friends, I lost it all. I became Tragedy again, I lost so much, I cannot remember names of my friends, or what their faces are. I decided to end it once again. Using a razor I cutted my face trying to bleed to death. But the scars healed faster, and I cried again. My name is Tragedy, and I am a survivor of three suicidal attacks. No one in my school would even want to deal with me, I only have one good friend so far. Not even my crush likes me (no doubt), neither does God or Jesus. I bet Karlie and Sarah spreaded bad things about me to the world. I hate everyone, everything, and myself. Even my new spanish teacher because her personality is similar to “Them” except for the manipualting part, that can be determined. I had to do bad things like masturbation and porn, and I regret all of that. All because of those two. People of the world, suicide sounds great in darkest times, but it isn’t. There could be better things ahead, but for me there isn’t anything left for me, I lost it all because of the suffering and those two people. For those who are reading this, don’t waste your life, keep it, no matter how hard the times may be, or you’ll be like me, a damned survivor scarred with a bloodstained past, and named Tragedy….This is my story.