High School Horror Stories

Attending schools in general is horror stories for me, especially in elementary school. I hated schools as a little kid. I still don't know why. I mean, no one really bullied me or anything. There was an ESTP boy who liked to pick on me sometimes, but that's it. In general my classmates, especially girls were quite nice to me. It's just the atmosphere of the schools that felt really off to me. I once stood in the pouring rain in hope to get sick, so I wouldn't have to go to schools. I was in grade 1 I think. Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned. My memories of childhood, especially at schools are full of long and winding tediousness, and my anticipation to grow up. Although, in the present, I'm an not an entirely happy adult, there's no way I would turn back the time to when I was little again if I could. College years were much better, I wish to go back there again.

I hated school growing up and looking back at it later that not only was the quality of American education is horrendous but that the whole system is setup to favor extroverts. Didn't help that I was not of the comfortable classes economically that could afford private schooling or go to one of the nicer schools but instead had to go through the meat grinder like all of the lower class people where gangs were a real problem. Got off the bus once and just a few feet away there was a pool of human blood from the night before and that wasn't the worst thing at all, it got bad enough that the school district had to have their own police department.

High School (or secondary school as we call it here) wasn't so bad for me. It was primary school where all the real horror stories were.
But the bus home was always awful. Because it was shared with another school where all my bullies in primary school went to.

Getting stabbed with a penknife. Beaten up by kids and no way to escape. Held down and being threatened with terrible things.
Didn't help that the bus driver was completely useless. Didn't have any authority, and was bullied by the kids himself.

I dreaded getting on that bus every day. There was a brief period where I was able to get a different bus home, one which usually wouldn't pass my house.
Most of my friends were on it, and it was a joy. But then I had to go back to hell bus. And it was even worse than before, knowing what I missed.

In 8th and 9th grades, I got bullied a lot. Most of the bulling happen on the school bus to and from school. Sometime early in 8th grade, I got fed up and started to fight back. What I found is that bullies are bullies because they don't respect you. I don't remember if I won or lost the first fight but I do remember that the bulling stop from that kid. BINGO! If you fight back bullies will stop. From then on, if some kid gave me shit about anything, a fight was on. It didn't matter if I won or lost -- a big swing and a miss or I got beat up. The bulling always stopped. I got into so many fights in 8th and 9th grades. 15 or more. Luckily I was never suspended from school because I was never caught fighting on school grounds but a few did occur. But I was constantly suspended from the school bus. I remember my mom getting mad because she was always having to drive me to school. And my father always asking, "Did you win?" which I always found to be funny because he was such a gentle man.

But in 10th grade all the bulling stopped. In Virginia, kids were allow to drop out of high school at age 16 if they got permission from their parents. I don't know if that is still true today but all the kids that bullied me dropped out. Everyone single one. And all the kids with that kind of background must have dropped out too so any future bullies must have dropped out.

Bullies, I still hate 'em. I have zero tolerance for them. If I see one I'll still go after them and get in their face. You can't tough them but you can give them verbal hell.

In high school we had backyard boxing events in the back of the school during lunch time. I challenged a fighter no one else would and ended up severely concussed.

Freaky Chameleon said:

In 8th and 9th grades, I got bullied a lot. Most of the bulling happen on the school bus to and from school. Sometime early in 8th grade, I got fed up and started to fight back. What I found is that bullies are bullies because they don't respect you. I don't remember if I won or lost the first fight but I do remember that the bulling stop from that kid. BINGO! If you fight back bullies will stop. From then on, if some kid gave me shit about anything, a fight was on. It didn't matter if I won or lost -- a big swing and a miss or I got beat up. The bulling always stopped. I got into so many fights in 8th and 9th grades. 15 or more. Luckily I was never suspended from school because I was never caught fighting on school grounds but a few did occur. But I was constantly suspended from the school bus. I remember my mom getting mad because she was always having to drive me to school. And my father always asking, "Did you win?" which I always found to be funny because he was such a gentle man.

But in 10th grade all the bulling stopped. In Virginia, kids were allow to drop out of high school at age 16 if they got permission from their parents. I don't know if that is still true today but all the kids that bullied me dropped out. Everyone single one. And all the kids with that kind of background must have dropped out too so any future bullies must have dropped out.

Bullies, I still hate 'em. I have zero tolerance for them. If I see one I'll still go after them and get in their face. You can't tough them but you can give them verbal hell.

Click to expand...

Those Junior High years were the worst. All but one of my horror stories are from grades 7-9, and that HS one was simply me throwing up on the bus as we entered the drop off circle in the morning (I had forgotten to eat with my meds - no granola bars back then.)

I love that bit about your dad.

MoonFlier said:

I love that bit about your dad.

Click to expand...

That used to crack me up when he would ask, "Did ya win?" with a big grin on his face. My father wouldn't hurt a fly -- literally. Many times I remember seeing my father try to shoo out flies through the back door instead of smacking them with a fly swatter. LOL I remember him trying to do that for 5 minutes some times. A thought just occurred to me. Maybe he asked "Did ya win?" because he was bullied too? Hmmm.....

Freaky Chameleon said:

Maybe he asked "Did ya win?" because he was bullied too?

Click to expand...

My intuition went there too. My first thought was he was bullied and proud that you stood up for yourself.

Daustus said:

My intuition went there too. My first thought was he was bullied and proud that you stood up for yourself.

Click to expand...

Your intuition is better than mine on this subject. It's taken all these years to figure this out.

Don't beat yourself up too much. When you experienced that growing up it probably seemed odd and helped you remember it. I get the luxury of you telling a detailed emotional story and objectivity of the internet. I'm removed from it so I can connect the dots a little easier.

I recently experienced the same thing this weekend. My parents are not good communicators, especially my father. He doesn't share his inner world freely. I became a father 3 years ago and now I'm spending my time raising 2 boys and thus work, marriage and family are my entire life. I was wanting to reconnect and share my experiences and try to reconnect with my Dad now that I have a better appreciation of what his world was like when I was growing up. I was making a joke making light of have a dad that didn't talk and it's honestly something that I always wanted but was not a reality. A friend suggested to me that since he doesn't like to talk openly, what does he like to do? Could you schedule a trip where you go and do something and weave some of that conversation you're looking for. I was dumb struck because it has always been that simple, if I had known that at 12-13 I would have a much closer relationship with my father. (Believe he's an ISTP).

Daustus said:

Don't beat yourself up too much. When you experienced that growing up it probably seemed odd and helped you remember it. I get the luxury of you telling a detailed emotional story and objectivity of the internet. I'm removed from it so I can connect the dots a little easier.

I recently experienced the same thing this weekend. My parents are not good communicators, especially my father. He doesn't share his inner world freely. I became a father 3 years ago and now I'm spending my time raising 2 boys and thus work, marriage and family are my entire life. I was wanting to reconnect and share my experiences and try to reconnect with my Dad now that I have a better appreciation of what his world was like when I was growing up. I was making a joke making light of have a dad that didn't talk and it's honestly something that I always wanted but was not a reality. A friend suggested to me that since he doesn't like to talk openly, what does he like to do? Could you schedule a trip where you go and do something and weave some of that conversation you're looking for. I was dumb struck because it has always been that simple, if I had known that at 12-13 I would have a much closer relationship with my father. (Believe he's an ISTP).

Click to expand...

From your second paragraph, I get exactly what you mean!! It's hard to see the big picture when your part of it.

I just remembered a funny story from my 10th grade year. Not really a horror story, but to an excessively shy 15yo, it was the definition of that at the time:

You know how schools have rotating class schedules. But not a nice, sensible M-F one, that odd shifting 6 day rotation ...

The morning announcements were ingrained in my head:
What IS Bell Schedule 1 anyway? We were ALWAYS on Bell schedule 1.

One morning I was late to school, can't recall why. I walked in late after being dropped off, checked into the office with my note and the receptionist stamped a hall pass for me and said "It's class 4".
No problem. Class 4 was English. Went to the locker, then back downstairs to my english class. Opened the door and froze .... it wasn't my class... O_O

Okay, it must be Calc. Booked it across the school to my math class, passing by the guidance office on the way. Looked at the wall to be sure their board displayed the correct day, okay, it was... Opened the door to my class and froze again .... it too wasn't my class. In fact it was my brother's class. The kids, were all laughing at me. Why was it whenever my brother was anywhere I was, everyone would laugh at me?

Went back to the guidance office, desperate to figure out what schedule we were on, and what class I had. Usually there were at least two adults there but the department was empty. I paced in a panic for 10 minutes. Stopped back in the main office, she was busy with other students. I ran back to the English department thinking I simply did something wrong, nope.

Finally, just as I resigned to being hopelessly lost, that one friend who reached out to all the misfits in the school to make them welcome into a group called out to me. It was Aleece The feeling was one of warmth and "I'm home." She told me I was supposed to be in French (She only knew this as her best friend and I shared that class).

I never did figure out why I was mixed up, nor did I ever get lost like that again. There was no reason for it, it's just the pieces weren't fitting together to match up with what I had on paper and when that happens I panic. I can only imagine it had something to do with being on some new meds(?).

That nightmare gave me a glimpse of how awful it has to be for dementia patients as nothing seems to fit what they're thinking anymore. (My dad always wants to get in the car and "go home" even when he is home, it's so sad.)

I wasn't bullied. I rode the bus and the bus kids were often wild but I had a MEAN bus lady that took no crap from anyone. She ran the bus with an Iron Fist but she made sure her kids were safe. Not fun to live in but I look back and appreciate it now. I was a casual athlete(wrestling), honor student, and aspiring punk. Overall I kept to myself and when I chose to be social I was well liked and accepted. I had a revolving small group of friends. Social enough to hang out with members of most cliques that developed.

I'm not sure I call this a horror story but I think it's funny.
I'm in my Junior year and I've become close friends to a popular girl that a lot of guys wanted to date. She's smart, funny, good looking and single at the time. She was never single for long. Usually 2-3 weeks tops. I come into school and she's anxious. I'm about to ask her what's up but she cuts me off and quietly shouts "W. is going to ask me out! I don't know what to do, I do not have a good excuse to turn him down! Can you keep him from coming over here and talking to me?"

Back story - W. was a guy that was almost model pretty, but really self absorbed. He talked about himself a lot and how cool he was, but he was deeply insecure and trying to impress people into liking him since sixth grade. He was considered popular but he didn't have many close friends.

I finish talking to my friend and notice W. is already in class and parked his book bag at his usual lab desk. I can see he's moving quickly to take advantage of 5 minutes we roughly have before class starts. I quickly jump across the room and say "Hey W. what's up?" he dismisses me and says something to blow me off as he unpacks his notebook. He quick stands up and my brain panics. I see in slow motion him leaving and I have to act NOW to delay him. So I grab his butt. I do a firm clamp to really get his attention. He does a jump step and rockets his back super straight. He's stopped dead in his tracks. I immediately turn around walk to my desk and put my head down.

W. didn't ask my friend out. She got a hell of a laugh and was really thankful.

Asa said:

@Daustus - WTH?!!! Hahahahaha!
That did not go as I expected.

Click to expand...

I panicked! LOL it's a funny memory for me. I blame it on being 16. He waited 2-3 days and grabbed my butt in the same class and told me we were even.

Daustus said:

I panicked! LOL it's a funny memory for me. I blame it on being 16. He waited 2-3 days and grabbed my butt in the same class and told me we were even.

Click to expand...

Did you ever find out what he was thinking when you grabbed his ass?

Asa said:

For me, all of high school was a nightmare. I'm sort of stunned that people can think that is the best times of their lives.
And yes, I know I had it easy compared to a lot of people. It was still a nightmare.

Click to expand...

Well I'll tell you a story about the daughter of one of the engineers I used to work with. She was extremely smart and very sociable. Very well liked by everyone. She ran for class president at her high school and won 4 times in a row. In her senior year, she ran unopposed. She even had a summer internship at the Maryland state capital in Annapolis. Very had to get into. She got accepted to the University of Virginia in Charlottesville -- the college that Thomas Jefferson started. Also very hard to get into especially for an out of state student like her. Everything was lining up for her to do something great with her life. Well she dropped out of college after just 3 weeks. Her father told me that she dropped out because everyone would go out drinking and partying all the time and leave her alone in the dorm (UVA is a big party school). She started seeing a psychologist and she didn't want to go back to college. She wants to become a wedding planner. At one point he asked me what I thought was actually going on with her. I told him that I had no clue. I still don't understand it. Was high school the high point of her life? Maybe -- I would not be surprised.

So the moral of this story is -- I'll take a sucky 4 years of high school and 70 years of looking forward to a good life than to look back at what I did when I was a teenager knowing that that was the high point of my life.