My math teacher is a dick.
He has stupid nicknames for almost every student, chosen for how much we hate them. Mine is Gordo, taken from part of my name. He uses this, i’m sure, because it’s spanish for ‘fat.’ This is not a leap of logic, as he knows a fair amount of spanish and uses spanish phrases sometimes. So it’s pretty much like this:
‘Fatty, stop talking.’ ‘What’s the answer to number three, fatty?’
Today, he finds special way to inflict pain on me.
Certain noises and sensations bother me. Not in the sense that everyone recognizes that a noise is annoying. In the sense that these things tear my soul. It’s like a terrible pain. There is no way I could describe how these things molest my very core.
One of these things is chalk, not just used normally, but SCRAPED across the chalkboard. Mr Scott starts doing this today. I make it VERY clear that this bothers me. About ten minutes before the end of class, Scott returns to this sadistic act. I am gathering my stuff.
“Gordo, what’re you doing!”
“I’m leaving.”
–I am walking out.
“I’m gonna have to write you a referral.”
“Whatever.”
Like I’m going to let you threaten me into staying here, so you can enjoy feeling power and inflicting pain? He’s also going to enjoy giving me that D.