My Lifes Story

The True Tale of Nicholas Benjamin Schafer

By Schafer 1/30/2011

The end says I spent 3 hours writing this story of my life for you. This is incorrect. I spent 3 hours on the rough draft, what you see now is the work of seven-and-a-half hours. Ive spent most of today awake, typing, looking over, correcting, adjusting. Ill be honest, there are some things in here that are wrong. Never outright lies, but wrong. I dont have a perfect memory, dont blame me. If you know me, or if youre in this story, I appologize, but I wrote it how I view my life. You might be altered, your actions or words skewed a bit. I dont care, dont bother letting me know. If all you get out of this is something like that, you can leave me be. Ive finished my story, and Ill be putting it for the public in a few minutes after writing this, and I hope you enjoy it. If you dont enjoy it, I hope you learned something. Ill be honest, if any of my friends wrote this much, Id tl;dr, but I hope you dont. I hope you read every word I have for you here. I spent a long time on it. And now, the feature presentation:

Where to begin? Well actually, that is a stupid question when writing any kind of autobiography, short or long. You start from the beginning. But how far back to I really remember, and how far back do I start to make up things? I guess starting with the things I know to be true. I know I was born in the end of May, 1993. I know that my parents were married and young, but not too young, not enough for anyone to call it young. I guess I just view it that way. They hadnt been married long, and werent married long after. It might have been two years or two months. Im pretty sure it was two years. My dad walked out on my mom, as my mom says, or they mutually decided to divorce, as my dad says. Im guessing its somehow a combo of the two. Theyre both liars, so Ill never really know. Ill get to that. After this, my life story will go faster until around middle school, which I consider to be 6th to 8th grades. I know that I went only know this because into a gravel pit and remove it with tweezers my forehead. to Pre-school at the ages of three and four. I when I was three, I fell down a large ditch gravel got shoved into my head. They had to and I still have some marks in the middle of

Heres the speed-ahead I was talking about, I really dont know or remember anything until third grade, or 7 years old? Yeah I guess. This is the first I considered myself to be depressed. Yes, as early as third grade, heres why: I was being babysat by my step-brother oh I should tell you about my step-family. I lived with my mom at this time and visited my dad every weekend or maybe every other. My dad lived in one apartment or another at this point, and had a few girlfriends who all liked me

and I liked them (he ended up marrying a huge bitch, but Im not going into their lives. They dont deserve my time). My mom dated one person after the divorce, Douglas. I will get it in your head now, I have always and currently do hate Doug. He married her when I was five, and we moved into his house with his two sons from a previous marriage, Adam and Brian. I hated them greatly at first, but today Im more neutral with Adam, and pals with Brian. But like I said, I hated them. They bullied me, they were the first of many to do so. Many. A quick note is that before this happened, one of them (neither will admit to it) smashed my head onto the cement outside that it knocked both of my front teeth out. I had bucked teeth for a very long time after, when they grew in. So its third grade and Im at home with Brian and hes watching TV. Im on the computer doing who knows what. I cant imagine using it so young, but I know Ive used a computer since second grade when we got one. So Im in the computer room, out of sight from the TV room and I yell into Brian, How funny would it be if I went to A-S-S-DOTCOM? or something to that effect. He gives me a neutral Whatever type of response that of course to a seven year old means yes, do it. I did. At the time it was a porn site, the first Id ever seen, I dont think it is anymore. Im not going to check. So I see then what I can still vividly remember was a naked girl. I didnt tell Brian, I knew that this was bad because it was a website of a bad word. I picked up that nobody should know what Ive seen, but curiosity consumed me. This is new. Different. Eye-opening. I proceeded to visit such things as girls.com, naked.com, and other generic things because either Google didnt exist or I didnt know about it at that time. This behavior is dangerous, as any porn-viewing teen could tell you, because it would show up in the history. Which, on a shared computer well its a bad idea. I didnt know how bad it really must be to my mom and step-dad, so I kept at it. I only looked at the pictures, I never did anything. I was far too young to know what to do anyways. One day, months later, my mom was helping me with my Christmas List and was logged into my profile on the computer. Why she couldnt type Nintendo.com is beyond me, I guess its because she knew it must be in the history. It could have solved a lot of my future problems, her just typing it in. Oh well. View my history she did, and oh my god did I get screamed at. I didnt know what I had done, I hadnt really been told that what I was viewing was bad, I had only assumed it was something to keep secret.

They didnt tell parents about telling kids such things back then, they do now though. So, you might wonder where the depression starts. Riiiiiight here. My mom took it much farther than it needed to be taken, to the school. They called me after school to meet with my parents, my teacher, my councilor, and the principal. I never went on such sites at school, I know this for a fact. Why was I even there? Ill never know. My mom cried through the whole thing, like I had killed someone with the boobs Id been looking at. My dad and step-dad yelled at me as though I was supposed to know that porn is bad at birth. My principal just shook his head mostly, and my teacher and councilor seemed moderately aware that what was going on was overly over-done. Again, you wonder why this was so bad, this wasnt. This meeting with the administrator is the first of many to come, but it wasnt the meeting that made me so messed up. It was how I was grounded that messed me up. Imagine a 90s kids room. Colorful, posters, Gameboys, lots of stuff. It was all packed into plastic tubs, by me, and brought down two floors to the basement one at a time, by me. Theyre still down here. I go through them every so often and just shake my head in disgust. For a few months, three, I believe, I had nothing. No bed, just a mattress on the floor. No toys, no color. White room, white sheets. I stayed in that room when I wasnt doing a ridiculous chore for my parents, or eating. I ate on the landing, far away from my mother and step-family. I ate peanut butter sandwiches. I. Hate. Peanut. Butter. They knew this, and used it against me. I got water to drink. When they wanted to go out, they brought my meal with them, p.b. sandwiches. Now, the chores. I was seven, remember. They were all physicalbased, or really tedious. I cleaned out our - as I call it - fancythings-cabinet. Theres like fifty billion things in it and theyre all fragile or small. I cleaned it all. Multiple times. Not because I did a bad job, but because they thought itd give me something to do. Basically take that, change it up a bit, and repeat. and thats what I did for 3 months when I wasnt at school, which was a lot due to Winter Break. I cried every single day until the end of it. It wasnt just crying because of how unfair things were, which was part of it, but I cried because I kept thinking that the only way this would end would be to kill myself. I didnt want to kill myself. I didnt want to live even more. It messed me up at such a young age, and all because of a freak-out.

The reason I stopped crying at the end is because of what Id been thinking. About killing myself. It hardened me. It gave me purpose. I could only think that if they made it any worse, Id get back at them. How? Theyd lose the son they didnt appreciate. Thats how. (again, I was seven). Now Ill continue with my life, to generalize up to fifth grade, people all made fun of me because I was different, and I cried myself to bed often, though not everyday, to be honest. They had very little to hate me for, other than the fact that people need someone or something to hate to function. I must have been incredibly functioning because I hated everyone and everything. I had two friends, who to this day often. So in fifth grade, when there larger girl, I took the chance to get teach her to hate me like they did. A time, for my age. will hang out with me every so was a new girl in school, a to know her so THEY couldnt very intelligent move at the

Siarra ended up being my first girlfriend by the end of 5th grade. Now I know most people dont consider such a young age as dating, but at the time I did, so I still refer to it as such. Id go to her house everyday, play games, talk, just sit there with her. Me, a skinny, short white kid, her a large, tall white kid. Things looked up. A girl liked me. Really I was happy that anyone liked me. Ive never required myself to be in a relationship, but when I am, its the only time Im truly happy. Its because I spent so much of Elementary School feeling like constant crap compared to everyone else, and then a girl came and changed it. Relationships make life livable to me, but Id never kill myself over a break-up, its not like that. I dont know if any of this makes sense, Ill continue. Sixth Grade. Middle School. Big time. It sucked. So. Much. There were now kids from like 5 Elementary Schools all mingling. 1/5 of them already hate me. Now the rest of them did, and it didnt take long at all. This is when I first referred to myself as That Kid to identify myself. I had Siarra, Blaze (one of the two still with me (yes, thats his real name)), Jessica (second of the two), Jordan (boyscouts, not school, Ill have a few sections that mention him), Stephanie (I talk to her every so often), and I suddenly realized thats it. I didnt have any other friends. Ive saved the most influential middle schooler in my life for last, Korrin. Ill talk about each one of my friends at the time, because they were the basis of what little amount of friends Ive had over the years.

Blaze. We played videogames. We still do. Almost nothing has changed He was my bestie until Jordan took over in highschool. Jessica. I asked her out (Ill get to my first break-up, give me a second, its hard to remember what happened when) twice or three times. She said that she couldnt each time, then went and dated someone else within a couple weeks each time. I hated her for that, but now shes one of my three friends today. Ill get to why I have so little, and the third one soon enough. Stephanie. Quiet. Anime. We worked together recently, and I havent really talked to her since I got fired from the job we shared. And then Korrin. She was beautiful. Still is, in my opinion that Ive even seen her in about a year, but w/e). Only Id not her these days because her personality went way downhill from then then. Actually, I think her personally HASNT changed from then, thats why. Back then she was interesting. (not date back back

I realized that I liked her a lot more than I liked Siarra. But Id never been in a relationship before, and I didnt know how one broke up with someone else. Most people at that point hadnt even had a relationship yet, let alone wanting a second one. I didnt want to be the one who broke up with Siarra, so I ignored her. I know, dick move. I didnt hang out anymore, I didnt do a lot of things I used to do. She broke up with me eventually near the beginning of the sixth grade. She said it was because she was lesbian. What the hell kind of reason is that? Why cant anyone be honest? I was obviously doing something wrong on purpose. She could have told me. Oh well. Last I checked shes dating a Mexican (in Mexico) via phone and internet. Male, of course. Oh well. Now before I liked Korrin to the point of asking her out, I realized I liked Susie a lot too. And Jessica (for the fourth time). I figured something out in my head. I liked almost all the girls I met. Crap, hormones. I went with the most likely thing, and settled (sounds bad, it isnt) on Korrin. I liked her first and most. Im gonna skip around now and tell you about Jordan during this time. Ill end up telling you about him later a bit, because he ended up being my best friend for a very long time. Not anymore, he wont even answer his phone when its me, Ill get to it. So Ill go ahead and skip most of my boyscout stories with him and let you know about what I considered then and now as the best boyscout campout ever.

So we were driving with the troop out to Viking Lake. Its the only campground I remember the name of, and for good reason. In the car ride over we all listened to the radio playing stuff like Green Day (I never liked it, but I pretended to so Id fit in (Id never do that these days)). When we got out at our spot, we got out and went straight to making tents and such. Some girls came up to me and Jordan (tent partners) and started asking about boy scouts. I should elaborate that there has never been girls at campouts. Never since, never before that campout. So it was a big deal. Now we talked about boring stuff that we did every single month that we camped, but they ate it up. Or pretended to, I dont know, and I dont care, I was a pessimist/realist, and still am. So when they went back to their camp, we were stoked, because none of the other troops got to talk to them. We were celebrities in a way. We all went out to explore, and found a football field, a large one with picnic benches off to the side in the middle of the forest. It was odd, but really cool, and we happened to have a football back at camp and one of us got it. I should let you know, I suck at all sports. Like Im seriously bad. This I know, Ive played practically all of the major sports at one point or another, most in gym classes. But this day was different. It sounds almost like the end of a football movie where the kid started off not being able to play or something. I made multiple tackles and three touchdowns. That really didnt make the campout great though, lets get there. It got dark and we were going back to camp when another boyscout troop came on the field. No, we didnt play them, they had a dry ice bomb. Yeah. A whole cooler of water, and a large chunk of dry ice. To make a long story short, the cooler vaporized, basically. The Earth-shattering-kaboom was Earth-shattering. It was really really cool. The cooler with the water flew up in the air and its really hard to explain the feeling of the BOOM without having been there. It was exhilarating. The best part? Jordan and Kelley, another scout, held me up by my underarms and I limped my way past the other troops camp. The leader thought I had been hit by a piece of the cooler and started screaming at his troop, we left, laughing. So its pitch dark out now, and me and Jordan start walking around the lake when we come upon a road in the middle of the forest, paved, and we sit down and start talking about Religion, Life, the Universe, Everything. We had more adult conversations then, than I hear adults having now. It wasnt all vulgar, not all of it.

So as we talked and sat, and looked at the stars, two of the girls came around the bend talking and saw us and remembered us. They yelled over and sat with us. I dont remember what we all talked about then, I know it wasnt smart people stuff, they werent smart people. I know that the reason I gave them for sitting on the road was because we were protesting the road service and cruelty against roads by driving on them, Im pretty sure they believed it. As we walked back to our camps, across from eachother, Jordan with Girl A and I with Girl B in my arm, we passed a picnic bench. The girls ran over and told us to join them. I figured we were about to be killed or something, I really did. As I sat down, the girl who obviously liked me grabbed my shoulders and pulled her face into mine, embracing me in what is known as my first kiss. It wasnt making out, but it was long and I will always remember it. Always. Vividly. I wont bother explaining the rest of the campout, I dont even remember it. I do know, however, the Jordan and Girl A didnt have as good a time as I did, he kept trying to make out with her. She denied him the rest of his kiss after that. That was the first and last time my sexual adventures surpassed him in any way well technically I wont explain it in my story, sorry. So back to seventh grade. I eventually hung out with Korrin for the first time, Adam was baby-sitting me, and by that I mean he was downstairs doing Dungeons and Dragons or something nerdy. So Korrin and I were watching something on TV, and by watching I mean not watching, and rather talking to each other and looking into each nerd. others eyes. I ended up moving my hand to her breast (aw yah seventh grade feel up) and of course I had to ruin it by saying, This is your boob. Then pointed to the TV, That is the TV. and so on until she grabbed my hand and moved it back to her chest. Its as far as I got until much later, but it was something. God where was I Well Ill be completely honest, I dont remember exactly what I did to be moved schools, but the move made it impossible to date her, and I didnt see her again until high-school. I think it was a mixture of not doing any homework and never doing what the teachers said that did it. Something like that. They all hated me, and Im sure they loved it when I was moved from Middle School 1 to Middle School 2. My parents didnt. This was the second worse grounding Ive received to date. I didnt have all the stuff taken, just my books and radio, because that is what mattered to me at the time. Its pretty much mainly what matters to me now. I did however, have to move 50,

count em, 50 bricks from the front driveway, to the back. Then to the front. Then the back again. What the hell?! This was with my hands. I am weak, and at the time I was weaker. That means one, maybe two bricks at a time. I think I had a time limit. I dont remember. My parents will deny it no matter who I tell, but I know I did it. They bought the bricks for that exact reason, for me to move them. So anyway reason why? To sped. Im also the new school about anything Jensen. I got moved schools. Do you want to know the real put me in the Special Education program. Yeah. Im a very, very smart. Im not conceded, I just am. So at there was a teacher, I dont even care or remember that happened at that school other than him. Mr.

OH MY GAWD HES THE DEVIL. Im not even kidding. He wore suspenders everyday. Every single day a different color of suspenders. Only truly evil people can do that. He is currently the number one most hated person according to me ever. There was a little room connected to his already little room that bad kids went. I almost never did anything wrong. I was trying. I also spent every day in there. Im not exaggerating. He had the power to keep me in the tiny, white room with a desk, and he abused it. It was like in third grade, with my tiny, white room with a mattress. I hated it. I hated him. I havent seen him since I got out of 8th grade, and I hate him. I still do. I really shortened that part of the story of my life, bad as it was because I cant think about it, my chest hurts. I hate him so much. Everything I said was an attack to him, every move a move to hurt someone. Which, by the way, Ive never had any amount of history that has to do with physical violence. I took karate for 6 years, probably 3-4 years at that point, but Id learned respect, control. Ugh. So we go on to what now? High school? I dont think its time to start that just yet. I want to talk about my medications. I start them at this point, and not at the beginning or the end of my story because it was the move of schools that also got me some meds. It started as a test for ADD or ADHD, for thats the only reason I could have for being miserable and not caring about a future or grades. But no, I dont have those things, I have everything else. I dont know at what time I got each thing, and really theyre all titles, Im sure Ive had them forever. Mood Disorder: What the hell

does that even mean? that, but it doesnt Teenager. I know that when I talk about the

That Im a teenager. Depression: Ill give them take a doctor to figure out that Im sad. PS: Bi-Polar Disorder came later, and Ill get to it hospital. I did, however, always think I had it.

Multiple pills in the morning, more at night. Every day. I am firmly against medications for mental disorders. I always have been. Wanna know why? I just am. The only way Ive been able to describe it is: Are you straight? Why? You were born that way? Well I was born against meds for your brain. Ill take meds for thinks like pain, if I have pain, I know that itll fix the pain after some time, no questions asked. Ive taken depression meds since 7th grade, Im no better. Im worse. I hate taking pills. They suck. Ive gotten so used to taking them that the five in the morning I take now (less than at first) I take without water. I just go for it. Nobody should be able to do that, you shouldnt have to take pills for nothing and nobody, unless you think you actually need them of course. Okay. 8th grade was eh. Nothing really bad (other than Mr. Jensen) happened. Maybe Im blocking something from my memory surely something bad happened to me. Could it be a year went by without anything major? Holy crap. I guess I could put in here that I joined the nerds group, and people continued to bully me. You might want me to define bullying in this case and Ill explain. I was called names, Fag. Fatty. This one is because the meds made me gain a very large amount of weight fairly quickly. Ive not lost all of it yet. Not yet, but I have lost a great amount that I gained. I was called stupid, but that was wrong because back at school 1, I took a Duke University offered test for the top 10 smart kids in the school, and I got a 21 out of 36, which is higher than the average high-schooler (higher than my mom got in high-school). Anyway, basically all the generic stuff, pushing, laughing, shoving, pointing, whispering, rumoring. I got it all. Everyday there was something, minor or somewhat major, it happened. I think its time to start the next section of my life. Freshman Year. Now, remember the whole schools feed into a bigger one, everyone learns to hate me thing? Now try it for a school of 2600 kids in which Ive come from the two main schools that feed into it, both of which figured out how to hate me. Now its 4 grades worth of bullies. I only use the word Bullies because if I said Assholes all the time, youd be bothered, Im sure. So now Im at High School #1. Yes, there will be a #2 at the very end of my story here. So I can honestly say that high school has

sucked, good or finally already

but nothing super duper happened the first two years. Nothing bad. I guess at the time, Jordan was the good part, we were in the same school, and became best friends very quickly. We pretty much were, but whatever.

I liked sophomore year only because Jordan was suspended for getting a blowjob in the band room during school. This will always make me laugh. Im kinda rushing through this because everything that really truly sucks about high school is my Junior and Senior years. I havent yet finished my senior year, but man am I close. So back to nothing happening, I do happen to have stories of school during this time, like how I found all the people from middle school who were neutral with me and became friends with them. Sort of. Ill say it now so I dont forget, when I transfer schools later in this story, they all start to ignore me. On purpose. They think its funny, I think I have 3 friends now. Continuing I can think of three tales off-hand, but those arent major to life, just good stories. Ask me, and Im sure Ill tell you. Junior year. The time when stuff happened. Most of it. The most hurtful to me. I present to you the idea of Mallory. Ill tell you the reality in a bit. The idea: She is very cute. I use that word, get over it, she was funny, she knew about videogames, she knew about computers, things that meant alot to me. The idea of her was great, but not yet perfect. What made her perfect were her actions. The first day I met her, she sat at my lunch table to and my friends (friends as in people I was sitting with have a choice, I sat there everyday). I think that one of known her. She didnt have friends, she does now because stole all my friends, youre welcome. eat with me who didnt us may have of me. You

Sorry, let me go on, she sat by me, and I said to Jordan, hold my hands as we walk down the halls, people will think its gross because everyone here is homophobic. Mallory offered to do it instead, although to be fair Jordan would have done it. So the first day I meet her, she holds my hand why couldnt of things worked out? So day after day after that we held hands through the hallways, locked arms, things that people who date do. I didnt dare ask her out because, for one, I had a horrible self-confidence, and was worried of losing her as a friend, as all my friends up to this point had scorned me except the bastards I talked about earlier. (the two that I have today that I had in 2nd grade took a break from being my friends at this point).

We hung out at Jordans once and I had my hand in the waist of her pants the whole time, nothing sexual going on, just the contact she allowed was something far beyond the normal, dont touch me, dont look at me vibes I got from everyone else. I kissed her on the neck one day, later, no big deal. I was madly, madly in love. You dont have any idea how easy it would have been for me to fall in love at that point, with all the crap that had happened to me, and then someone who got me, someone who was perfect? Oh my I loved her. To be honest, I think I still do. Actually, I dont think so, I do. She was my first true love, the other girls before meant little in comparison. In fact, I forgot to mention I had a 1 month relationship in the beginning of Freshman year. The reason I dont mention this is because I asked her out as a joke. That seems bad, but I was certain shed know it was a joke, but she said yes, so I went with it. She broke up with me because she was two years older than me. Oh well. But back to Mallory, whom I had named Mal-Pal or Muffin. Dawww, right? Now you might wonder what could have possibly of happened. Heres the reality of Mallory: She was in a relationship and had been for the past few YEARS with someone years older than her in TEXAS. Yeah. What the hell. She led me on like nobody has ever done since wait thats a lie. But she let me on hardcore and when I found out, I confronted her, and by that I mean I said something like Youre going to have to chose between me and him, I feel like a cheater, and hed be pissed. and she didnt choose him OR me. That would have been easier, she remained neutral, and I was so mentally broken that I ended up telling her that I couldnt be her friend, the girl who knew me so well, the girl I spent hours at a time talking to on AIM or Facebook or anywhere else, the perfect girl, the one of few friends. I told her that we couldnt be friends. I messed up everything that was good in my life with those few words. I said them over the internet, because Ill admit that the hardest thing Ive every done in my life was just that. I typed it up, hit enter, uninstalled AIM, because I had it installed just for her, I blocked her on Facebook and I went upstairs to my mothers room, where she was napping, and I cried. A lot. I cried more then than I had in combination the past few years. Ive never been trusting of anyone after that. I still will find myself thinking of her before our part (because Ive seen her often since, but its just weird) and Ill cry myself to sleep. I could have a great day, hear one of my friends (bastards) say Mallory called them or something and Ill get tight-chested.

I hate cant stand write this, and wouldnt

myself for loving her long after she hated me. I honestly it. Shell never see this note, so I dont care that I and really I dont think shed believe it. She hates me trust it. What did I do to deserve hate? Well

Im ranting now, you get the point. Now Im going to back up to right before Mallory came into my life and left so quickly. This is the story of the mental hospital. Yeah. I was in one. Ive not been telling it, but Ive been suicidal since I moved schools. Like really feeling that way. I mentioned that I felt that way first in third grade, but it grew over the years. One day I cracked. My parents were grounding me for one reason or the other. Personally I think they find something I did wrong and they realize they need something done for them chore-wise, so they ground me instead of letting it go. But Im the kid, so of course I think that. So they were having me move tubs of stuff (I dont know what) up and down the stairs. The bricks come to mind, because thats the same thing they were doing. Go up, go down, go up, go down. Plus Im sure the boxes were heavy, just sayin. I eventually got so upset with the work I was given, I went into my room, grabbed the phone and called my dad. I hadnt been visiting my dad due to an angry outburst by him that got me pushed into a wall and a weedwacker turned on and held up to my face. Can you tell why he doesnt show up much in this story? I hate him. He doesnt deserve a space, like I said. Im going out of order. Back to calling my dad. I was sobbing and pleading with him to call the police because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Id kill myself, and dont you believe for one second, reader, that I wouldnt have. I would have in a heart-beat. He didnt believe me. He didnt listen to his own son, he just yelled about not calling him more often, he didnt care one bit. I hung up on him, which got his attention, because he called back by the time I went downstairs to confront my mom or step-dad about it. She answered, hung up, called the police, and soon enough, there they were, for the 7th time. Literally. Ive threatened it before, but was counterthreatened by my parents about it, but the police always came, because I always called. Those times always ended in my being scared by my mom into saying I was lying for attention bullshit.

So theyre here again, and my dad shows up a bit later, for he lives close and my mom called him after she called the police. When it was established that Id just love to go to the hospital for a few nights, they wanted to know if they had to drive me in cuffs, or if my parents would drive me. My dad had this to say, I will not drive him. I dont know if hell try to escape the car and run in front of a train or something. Holy crap, you dont know how much that hurt me. The worse thing? My mom only agreed to do it after the cops mentioned that I wouldnt be able to leave until after a much longer stay if I went with them. Momma needs a chore boy as soon as possible, so she drove me. We got there, checked in, and found out that actually wed need to go to the next state over, so there we went, my dad not joining. He had more important things to do, apparently. My mom and I sat in a room there for a while, me just sobbing and whimpering. I looked her dead in the eye and told her that she is a horrible mother and that I hated her. I stand by what I said, never have I meant something so much. She made to look like she didnt care, but I know it affected her, and I say it should! I know I said more about her not caring, but much like her, at this point I dont care. What matters is what you know. I could go about how the hospital worked, but I have this to share instead, a day in the life of the mental hospital:

I wake up, yawning. I didnt get sleep last night. I havent gotten to sleep much since I got here. It would help if they didnt come in during the night to check up on me. But you get what you ask for sometimes and this is what I asked for. Getting out of the rubbercovered bed, and pulling off my fishnet blanket, I shiver on over to my closet. I put it in quotes because this closet is actually a glorified cubby-hole. After grabbing out one of my three outfits, I make my was across the chilled, linoleum floor to the bathroom. I open the door- well actually I slide the curtain away. There is no door to my bathroom/shower area. Just a curtain to protect me from their eyes. Im met with an off-green tiled room, devoid of sharp corners, that contains a shower behind a curtain, a mirror, and a toilet without toilet paper. I walk in and go about brushing my teeth with my finger (no toothbrushes allowed), and washing my face with foam soap (no bars of soap allowed). Theyll eventually make me shower, but I dont feel like it right now. I dress, then make my way out of my cell- I mean my room. I can feel the warmer, softer floor of carpet underneath my feet. I feel it more-so because they dont allow shoes here, they dont seem to allow anything. The smell of two things strikes me immediately from

leaving my living quarters, the smell of a sterile environment, and the smell of food. Im glad, food is good, I mean, Ill be forced to eat it, but I still like it. I cant remember what I asked for the day before, all the days Ive been here are running together. I grab an apple juice and my tray and I sit down. There are other kids here. Not all of them are the ones from yesterday, and not all the kids from yesterday are here again. They come and go in the middle of the night, just like I did. One day, Ill be able to leave against common knowledge of the other kids, but it isnt today. It isnt this week even, but I dont know that yet. I wont know until Im leaving. I sit with the boys at the boys table. There are a couple of girls at the girls table. They separate us so we dont go about kissing each other, or more likely, worse than that. I understand it, I guess, I just do what they say so everything stays friendly. The last kid to fight with one of them was gone the next day, Im not willing to bet he was just let go. The eating-room is also the tai-chi-room is also the living-room is also the we-do-everything-in-this-room. This is mainly because there are the rooms we sleep in, the living-room, their section (we arent allowed in), and the door out. Those are the only landmarks Ive been living with, and will have to live with. After we are all done eating, and sitting waiting for others to eat, we are allowed some free-time. I walk to the beige cabinets and I open one up. A wave of colors and one particular smell assault me. For one, the smell of crayons. There is a large box of crayons and if youve ever owned one of those, you know the smell I then smelled. The colors is another thing. There are board-games for children, toys for children, everything for children. Things for children are colorful, and the rest of the establishment is not. I grab a deck of cards, red, ornate. Ive grabbed this deck for quite a few days now, and I set up a game of solitaire, just like Ive done for hours on end. It is lunch time when I stop playing cards. I won one of the games in the entire time Ive been here. Smells come and go with the lunch hour, and Im back to cards. There are no lessons today, no doctor visits, just a free day for me to play more than 12 straight hours of solitaire. Its all I have here in this poorly lit, sanitary, cold, hell-hole. That was written already, so its in a different perspective, IE: Mine. But I literally wrote that two days ago, so Im not gonna let it go to waste. At least Im honest. In fact I have another one of those later. Copy-pasting is so much easier than re-living that place again.

So you have it now, my back. Ive been suicidal to me, but would I let myself youre reading this and you first expulsion.

stay at the mental hospital. Ive not gone be sure, its a constant state of mind for go back there? No. So dont freak out if know me, Im Fine as it gets. Now to my

I wont go into this in huge detail, but its hard to explain if you dont have some previous knowledge that I cant give you via text. So the kids at lunch were talking about the Nervous Game, otherwise known as the Awkward Game, or the Uncomfortable Game. I turned to the girl next to me and said, Do you want to play the firetruck game? She asked what it was and I told her that it was the same as what they were playing (if you dont know, Ill explain it in a second) but when you were supposed to say Stop you instead say Red Light. She agreed. Now the game is that you take your hand, put it on the other persons knee and you feel up their leg until they get bothered and tell you to stop. This was different, this was the FireTruckGame where you say Red Light. I got half way up her leg before she said it (loser, Ive never lost these games) and I moved swiftly up her thigh almost into, but not quite into her crotch. She freaked out a bit, but didnt seem to care, everyone thought it was funny. Her best friend didnt (bible-thumper). She told on me and got me expelled for sexual harassment and assault. Great end of Junior year. I spent the rest of the year in an alternative program where I met my current best friend, Sadie. PS: Im in love with her now, Ill get to it, dont you worry. In this school you just sit there all day in front of a computer and do nearly no work and get credits. Really easy, really boring. Me and Sadie hung out alot after that, and we got to know each other. I might have fallen for her then if I wasnt currently caught by Mallory. And dont worry folks, I fall in love with someone ELSE before Sadie. Im a sucker for love, Im a sucker for misery. So I get to come back to my school the next year, my senior year. Time for a fresh start. Time to get expelled again. It just occurred to me that I fall in love with people in alternative schools twothirds of the time. Just thought youd like to know. So back at school, still High School #1, its lunch time, senior year. Not even a month through my senior year, this happens. Im outside of my classroom, having eaten lunch already, and I await the class to join us. As they come back, one at a time, I offer high-fives to them for no real reason.

They all decline or fake it, but the last guy high-five, and I point to him and say these exact remember to wear a black hat on Wednesday, so you dots in there are because I realized making a reference in school is a bad idea.

gives me a great words, Hey man, know. The three school shooting

Turns out I should have thought about that earlier. After a lot of crap, my parents manning-up for once and fighting the school system, it all comes down to if I hadnt said what day I planned to shoot up the school I would have had 3 days of suspension. But I said Wednesday, thats the thing. Goddamnit that just sucks. I went back to the same alt school and I asked my mom to transfer me schools, she did. While at the alt school again, with different kids, I met Julia. We talked and a very Mallory-esque thing happened with her and I. I was much less trusting of myself though, so I didnt get as attached, but attached I was I eventually asked her out. Good job me. On the other hand, she said no, and why you ask? Because she didnt want to someday be my exgirlfriend that is the worst. ugh. I was very upset, but I straightfaced it, and she could tell it was killing me, and she started crying herself. It was an awful day for me, I havent talked to her in a while, things just got so awkward, I couldnt do it anymore. I forgot to mention two girlfriends this time Ive only had four total, but I just skipped the most recent two. In a nutshell, I wasnt in love with either, maybe felt like it for one, the other one broke up with me after 1780 messages back and forth on Facebook (not a made up number), and I broke up with the other one because shes a nut. She screaming next day. the other went to homecoming with me and left 10 minutes later that everyone here is so shitty! I broke up with her the First time Ive done that, breaking up with the girl, not way around. So now Im at High School #2.

The first day of High School #2, there was a school shooting. After I got in trouble for making a reference to one. God. Damn. It. On top of that Ive fallen in love with Sadie from earlier, and I know that Ill never be with her. Shes going to read this. Shell be the first person Im sending this to after its all edited. I know that Ill never be with you, Sadie. You like a different kind of person. Id love to be your friend, but Im not going to ever ask you out again. I couldnt deal with that kind of pain.

The first time was bad enough. Maybe if you pulled a Mallory and hated me, Id be okay with that. No. I wouldnt. But in comparison with being hopelessly attached to someone who I mean very little to in comparison? Torture. I hate myself for typing this but Ive always hated myself, so theres nothing different, just me falling in love with that which Ill never have. I love you Sadie, dont mistake that. More than I loved Julia, more than Ive loved Mallory, even. I think it might be the truth, and you saw how much I liked her, I love you so much, but I cant do this thing where I pretend its okay to sit back and watch you. Oh god none of this is about my life anymore, no, thats wrong, right now Sadie is my life, so its right to say what Im saying, even if its just so not right for me. Sadie, please, I beg of you, tell me, lie to me even that you love someone else, that way I can just give up. I wont stop loving, no, that would be too easy, but youd crush me to the point of not being so attached. Crush me, Sadie. *Sigh* There is one thing Ill leave you with, and its to show you how my family life is going these days. This was written on my Tumblr on January 11th, entitled, What I did Yesterday. Here you go:

Ill spare you everything up until about 4:00pm. My mother got home (and hour earlier than usual) and yelled my name. I was in my room, and I was perfectly okay with letting her either give up on calling me, or actually come upstairs if she really wanted to say something, so I remained in my bed. She yelled, then screamed my name, then preceded to come upstairs to my room. The threw my door open and asked me why I was still in bed. I told her that I just got here and that Ive been awake for fucking four days straight now. She said (and when I say that I mean she yelled) that I had chores to do, and to do them. You should know that its a rule in my house to have things done by five oclock. I reminded her of this, she told me to do it NOW. I said, no. and went back to sleeping, she called me a lazy fucking pile of shit and slammed my door so hard that everything hanging upon my walls fell off, and a few piles of my books toppled over. I figured that if thats how Im going to be treated when I havent even done anything wrong yet, Id just not do the chores, they were folding clothes and shoveling the deck, which I assumed could be

done later. I was awoken at five oclock by my step-dad. He threw a chunk of snow at my fucking head. I asked him as politely as possible, What the fuck?! To which he went on at the top of his lungs how I was to go do my chores now, and he started walking away. I said something to the effect of, No, you threw a fucking snowball at me, no way. So he came in and spent a good five minutes yelling, again at the top of his lungs, about how Im worthless, Im lazy, and that hes kicking me out of the house, no really, get the fuck out of my house right now, motherfucker. So I got up and started walking to the door, agitated, when my mom, who had obviously overheard what he was going on about, got in my way. She told me that I wasnt leaving, I told her that indeed I was by grabbing her shoulders and tossing her so hard out of the way that she fell onto the ground. My step-dad had followed me downstairs to make sure I left, but apparently now I was supposed to stay. Yeah right. I started to open the door when he grabbed me by the shoulders, yelling at me to get out of the doorway. I grabbed the door and told him to take his fucking hands off of me, so he pulled with all his weight, yelling, Get out of the fucking door you fucking fat-ass, I swear to God if you dont Ill make sure you cant move for a fucking week. Im pretty sure thats an exact quote, or close enough. I yelled so loud back that I really wouldnt have recognized it as my voice, saying that Ill get out if he lets go of me, he said that hed let go of me if I got out of the door, and back and forth until he let go. During the tug of war, my coat ripped, Im moderately upset about this. Then he got into my face and screamed some more, and pushed me into the closet, I pushed him off of me, to which he threw me so hard into the wall, theres now a foot-wide hole in it, and Im pretty sure thats why my thumbnail is currently cracked and black from an internal bruise. He let me know that Id be paying for it, and I told him to fuck off. I dont even remember why, but he eventually left me with my mom. I was breathing so hard I couldnt think straight, and I was shaking and sobbing. I told my mom that either everyone calms the fuck down, or she takes me back - yes, back - to the mental hospital, or Im going to kill myself. I think that when I told her such things previously, she didnt believe me. She sure as hell believed me then, so she took me into the office to talk about it. By talk about it, I mean a good 5 hour argument in which the following was said to me: Youre ruining our family. Everything is

your fault. You are an awful son. Im sure some other bad things were said, but heres the one that will always stick with me: In response to talking about how I wanted to kill myself, she said, If thats whats causing all this, then kill yourself. I dont care anymore. I started half crying half laughing at this point, looking, Im sure, very insane, and I said to her, I hope to God you always remember that you said that. I hope it kills you inside knowing that its one of the last things you said to your son. And the argument went on, always about how Im at fault, how I ruin things, et cetera. Then I went to bed. All I Ive never been so depressed in up killing myself anytime soon, considering it anymore, but if note. want right now is to talk to someone. my life. I hate myself. If I ever end and dont be alarmed, because Im not I do, I want this to be my suicide

I want you all (and sure, right now you all is two people, one I dont know) to see that this is what I put up with. I deal with shit like this all the time. I am not happy. I am not the Schafer you all know. The one you all think you know. Im an actor and a liar, and Im good at both of those things, which is why 99.9% of the people who know me dont know me. I dont know what to do. Im lost. Nobody will answer their fucking phone. I need somebody, but as it seems, nobody needs me. Nobody really wants me for that matter. My parents dont, my mom even tried to kick me out during the argument, but I let her know that Im only 17 and theres nothing she can do, legally, which she responded that she can always send me back to the hospital. Thats her solution. Were she to do that, I wouldnt graduate from highschool. She knows that. Shes the one who brought it to attention. She doesnt care about me. Nobody does. Or at least, if they do, they dont fucking show it. And there you have it. My life as Ive lived it. I hope you know more about me, I also hope you treat me differently. Im sure you will. Just please dont make my life worse than it is. I mean, youd have to try, but if youre someone important to me or Sadie, basically, you have that ability. Im sorry I had to put what I did, but I honestly feel like I had to. Itll save us both much grief. Signing off 3 hours after he started writing this, Nicholas Benjamin Schafer.

Two days after writing the previous paper

I just started to cry. It wasnt like I always end up crying, but this was different. I cried honest tears of joy. I dont think I have ever done this, in fact I can tell you that I havent beyond a shadow of a doubt. Im still tearing up, the feeling is fading, but not gone. Happiness. I havent been happy, truly happy, in years. Since third grade maybe. When it all started. Writing my lifes story was not meant to be anything but something to vent my anger and depression with. Its changed everything. Mallory, from the story, plus most of my old friends that I discussed had been ignoring me all came over yesterday. I dont know how it all came to happen, but I have a strong feeling it was Mallorys doing. When they all came over like this, it made me happy. Not as a state of mind, but as a current emotion. I talked to Sadie about the note, at first freaking out, thinking shed do what everyone else does to me. I thought shed leave me like Mallory had after I fd things up, how Alli had after I messed things up (not in the story, but important to me), like Julia after I made things awkward between us, like Jordan after I trolled him too hard with Zach (I think it has to do with that, he might just be an ass). But I came back later and apologized. I know Sadie wouldnt hate me for the note, it was how I feel, and she resects that. I respect her for staying with me. When I came to the conclusion that she still wanted to be my friend after everything, it made me happier, but still not a state of mind. It was when I called Mallory today to let her know that I appreciate what she did for me, for showing up, for talking to me again, for so many things that I couldnt get out of my mouth in time before I choked up, which I did. That was me being happy for the first time as a state of mind. Things are changing for me, and for once in a good way. My old friends are coming back, I just spent the night at Blazes house. I called Mallory (or really anybody) and she answered, but not only that we had a conversation and talked about plans to hang out sometime. Its been so long. Sadie still talks to me, and I still love her, but now Ive accepted that it wont work out, and my heart can rest. Writing this is making the crying thing worse, but it feels so good. I dont think you have any idea. It feels. So. Good. But its not just the real world that does these things for me. Its the support of you guys out there in internet land. Its my tumblr followers who read my story and sent me messages about how sorry they were for me. Its my Kongregate friends who all read the story long before anyone else saw it and gave me feedback and support. Its all of you that have made this happen for me, true happiness. I love you all, each and every one of you thats helped me through my tough times into my softer ones. I might be able to laugh now and not have to force it. Thats a feeling I never thought Id have.