Sixth Grade

By the time I got to sixth grade I had learned that I needed to be tough, and not show weakness. At school I had this alter ego where I would cuss as good as any drunken sailor, and was so mean I could spit nails. There was this boy who would call me a Jehovy just to be mean, but he was the wrong person to say anything to me, because he had a red birth mark that covered half his face, but it was taboo say anything about it. I didn't care, and to get back at him for calling me a name I would shout back tomato face, and no ones going to love you with that huge red mark on your face. I also treated our new music teacher very badly. On her first day I was dared to stick a tack on her seat which I accepted. I snuck over to her seat when she wasn't watching, and placed a tack on her chair. By the time I got back to my desk the whole class room knew what was going on, and eagerly awaited for the teacher to sit on her chair. When she finally sat down she popped up so fast that the whole class started laughing including me. She knew it was one of us, but never even acknowledged the incident. This teacher had a lot of class, and dignity. After the tack incident I felt really bad. I wish I could say I turned over a new leaf, but I didn't. Soon after we moved, and I had to go to a new school. This was my chance to start over. I started being me no matter the cost.