Don’t Believe Them - Leah Parker (inspirational novels .TXT) 📗

10/6

Dear diary,

I’ve never written these before but here goes. I was raised in Galway, Ireland, by my mam. My dad used to be here but he split when I was three, I haven’t seen him since. My mam is my world and I couldn’t be where I am now without her- and food, but she buys that. Since I was a little boy, my mam would call my grandma, who lives in Dublin, so I could speak to her, but my grandma was awesome. I would always sing for her, mostly Blackbird by The Beatles. Grandma loves The Beatles. Once she said that when I was born, she wanted to call me Ringo after Ringo Starr. She did get Ringo in my name though, my name is Jesse Ringo O’Sullivan. I know what you’re thinking. Very Irish am I right?

My street is very quiet but the people are very loud so it kind of cancels each other out if I’m honest. At 11 pm without a doubt you would hear a couple of drunk men trying to fight, it’s like a television show only at 11 pm. A few times I’ve woken up me mam because of my laughing. Luckily I’m an only child. I’ve always wanted a wee brother or sister, I don’t always like being alone but my mam and dad split and my mam is on a lot of medication for depression, anxiety and Schizophrenia. I know it seems a lot but my mam is really trying to get back on her feet. Honestly, sometimes she doesn’t take her pills because she wants to wean herself off of them. I love her so much.

School is really difficult for me because I have anxiety and I get bullied. One time I was threatened my life only because I was listening to music ‘only gays listen to’, I am not gay, I just like that music. My best mate, Mickey Murphy, stood up for me one time when I was shoved into my locker; my back still hurts from that. Okay fair enough it was last week. A few times my mum has been in to speak to my principal but they don’t have any witnesses except from Mickey. I showed them bruises, but they said it could have been self inflicted. It wasn’t. School is a place where older babies go to pick on others instead of learning. Being in school is difficult but I guess we all have to get through it one way or another.

Believe it or not, Mickey is my only friend. We’ve known each other since little school when we got paired up by our teacher. I’m really happy Mrs Wilson paired us up, otherwise I wouldn’t have me best friend, failing that, Mickey is my brother. I know that sounds cliché but he is. I love him like a brother.

My mother- a few minutes ago- had a Schizophrenic episode. It was really frightening; I wasn’t sure of what was going on. All I knew was she was yelling at me.

Apparently, when we first got paired, we hated each other but now we are inseparable and I wanna keep it that way.

Last night the Garda popped round for a cuppa, that’s how we do things in Ireland, and he told us how we were brilliant people because we don’t care what people think of us. We are a family and family sticks together. It’s hard to be Irish sometimes; the stereotypes and the accent. I get that girls love Irish accents but other people say that we all get drunk and we love potatoes (which I do).

At school there’s this girl. She’s an absolute moron and I hate her. Her name is Eilis (pronounced eye-lish) and she is the head of year council. She tries making us all bow to her as she makes all the decisions. I go to the meetings just for fun; Eilis told me “Jesse, why are you here? I hate you! I can kill you!”

“Try me. You are the eighth, long forgotten dwarf no-one knows about.” I was proud of that one. She just slumped back in her chair, and by slumped I mean she hid under the table. Her boyfriend glared at me:

“You’re such an idiot! By the way, you’re adopted because nobody in your family is a human-giraffe” Ricky thought that was clever. It was pathetic.

“Keep talking- one day you’ll say something intelligent.” I came-back. He wasn’t going to hear the rest of it. I have the best insults.

All because my mum has mental issues, people pick on me for it. To be honest, people shouldn’t be mean about it; what would happen if Mum fell asleep tonight but never woke up tomorrow? They’d be happy.

If something had happened to Mum, I would blame all the misfits telling me to tell her to kill herself as she isn’t worth it. Mother is worth it; she may have had a bad reputation because of her mental state but I love her. She is the warmest person in the world and I would never trade her for anything. Wow, I’ve got the eulogy done!

Life in general is tough, but if it was too tough nobody would be alive. It’s supposed to be hard otherwise we’d all be billionaires with five wives or husbands and over a thousand children. Okay- yes- I’m exaggerating a bit, but not much. In my mind, life is just a video game- you keep playing until you die- but sadly if you die you can only be resuscitated once or twice.

Today, I was in Maths and I literally felt like dying. Literally; Eilis was being an eejit as usual telling me I’m not worth it and to OD on me ma’s pills. If you are not Irish or Scottish, eejit means and idiot basically. I kept giving her evil stares and she stuck her finger up at me, so I yelled across the class “Why are you being such a jade? It’s not funny!” A jade means a cow and not cattle, like a rude person. It’s a very bad insult and can hurt someone quickly. My intentions exactly. Calling someone a mean name isn’t a nice thing to do but she’s always rude to me, so I got payback.

My favourite person, Chris Colfer, says:

“Never forget, never forgive. You remember their names, you remember their addresses, you just remember everything. Never listen to any of that forgive and forget rubbish. . . No, you get even. You remember everything they did to you and you get back. You get them back.”

This is very true because, okay, I may seem like such a mean person but I’m only getting even. I wasn’t like this when I was four, I started when I started high school.

My mother says I remind her of my granddad. Calm and sweet but when someone calls you a name you go off the rails. Yeah, that’s me. It’s good to be that way so someone knows if they have offended you, or if you just want to get back at them.

You might think that Eilis is just trying to be funny, not mean but the other day I opened my locker and blue slime came out and it was purely gross. Okay, it was pathetic but the first time I stood up for myself she punched me and gave me a black eye. Mum complained to the school board about it and they didn’t do anything. Not even give her a warning. I swear that after we walked out of the room, my principal gave her a high five. It was devastating knowing that the girl who beat me up was still roaming the halls. In third year of junior cycle (when I was 15 basically) I decided not to care anymore. My ma had got more sick and that made me depressed so I just started being mean to her. Right now, it’s 15-1 to me for our insults.

11/6

Today my mum got called into school for a parent-teacher chat. I wasn’t scared because I knew that Mum will just give me a high five no matter good or bad. Plus Mum knows everything that’s going on at school and it doesn’t matter what’s going on in her mind, she will beat the life out Eilis’ parents for not doing their jobs.

“Ms O’Sullivan, I’m really sorry to tell you this but your son has been saying rude things to a student here. She feels really threatened by him.” Complained my vulgar teacher. “But he is quite eccentric. He is getting good grades and he is the brightest student in my class.”

“Okay, yes, my son is cantankerous sometimes but if you really listen, that girl is actually being mean to him. On Tuesday, she covered him in blue gloop that fell out of his locker. You tell me who else would have done that. Now if you excuse me, I’m taking my son for McDonald’s. If you don’t treat him better, I will transfer him.” Mum clutched onto my wrist and dragged me out of the room. When I sat in the car I noticed I had a red hand mark. I covered it with my sleeve in case we got pulled over.

When we got home, I ate my food and Mum was different. She wasn’t happy, she looked like she was having a hard time with everything. I stood up and I saw her sobbing silently. Briskly, I wrapped my arms around her and she pushed me away so right now I’m writing this until she is ready to see me. I wonder what’s wrong I don’t like seeing her like this because I just know she’s probably going to pop more pills than she needs, then I will be the one feeling sorry for her. I’ve had enough of it! She needs to learn to get help, like therapy.

A few hours later I tip-toed into the sitting room to see her pouring a glass of wine. She had been through a bottle and a bit! As quick as lightning, I took away the wine from her in case she wasn’t allowed to mix alcohol and her medication together. Not knowing what to do with a depressed drunk, I tipped it down the drain and ran the tap.

“What the hell are you doing, Jesse?!” Mum yelled in my face. I could literally taste the wine in her breath, it made me feel nauseous.

“Doing what you should have done ages ago, mother! I’m your son, and you’re a drunken mess. You should be looking after me, not the other way round! I don’t want my mum to die before she hits thirty-five thanks to a mix of booze and meds.” I roared back at her. I don’t care if she was drunk, she needed to be put back in her place and I didn’t mind doing that. I sat her on the couch and held her hands. “What’s going on mother?”

“I’m so, so sorry Jesse.” Mum wailed. She flung her head into my shoulders. Wow, tomorrow I’m going to end up with a bruise.

“Sorry for what ma? You haven’t done anything.” I tried reassuring her but it didn’t work because she was crying even more.

“I lost them! Your baby sister or brother!” I blinked so hard. She miscarried. Now I feel bad for getting at her throat. I cradled her and we weeped together.

I went to bed about three hours after that. I can’t believe it, but how? I’ve never seen a guy poking around here since dad left. I get why she didn’t tell me before though. I blame the meds.

I was sitting in bed reading a book ‘Struck By Lightning’, by Chris Colfer, with my lamp on at 10:35 p.m. Thinking about it, I’m