That Time People at My Bus Stop Threw My Binder of Stories Down the Drain

Hey, hey Bloodlings!

This is your girl J.S. Living, and I'm going to change it up today by telling you a story from my childhood. If you read it, and decide you want more blog posts like this, let me know in the comments. So, here you are:

That Time People at My Bus Stop Threw My Binder of Stories Down the Drain

I was one of those kids that always got made fun of. Literally, everyday at school someone was making a joke about my hair, my clothes, my shoes, my glasses, whatever thing they thought was funny.

This went on from elementary school all the way through high school. TBH, I really didn't have confidence in myself until college.

But, there is one particular day that has always grated my nerves, and that's the time the people at my bus stop threw my notebook down the drain.

Picture this:

It's, like, 7:00 or 8:00 AM and the sky is overcast with rain. You're about ten or eleven years old, and you're standing at the bus stop minding your own business. Something happened at school the day before, or maybe it was some other time; but, either way, you decide to write down a fictional story portraying the people responsible.

Then, out of nowhere, someone slaps the binder out of your hand, and it drops to the ground. They pick it up before you can and starts reading it.

They're bigger than you--or, at least it seems like they are at the time--so you can't do anything but jump trying to get it back.

You fail.

They DO NOT like what you wrote, so they show it to the other people at the bus stop.

A second individual grabs the binder, ripping pages out of it, tossing them and the binder as a whole down the drain, calling you ugly and a smart ass right as the school bus pulls up to pick everyone up.

To their chagrin, most of the paper and the binder itself don't slide down the drain. Instead, they land just within your reach.

Lucky, lucky you.

The bus driver is confused about what's going on, but they're nice enough to give you a moment to pick the soggy, wet paper up from the ground and stuff it back into the binder.

End scene.

This is just one of MANY stories from my childhood.

And, yes, it's true.

This happened to me in the sixth or seventh grade, and it taught me a valuable lesson: Not everyone will like what you have to say.

You would think this day, this lesson, would deter me from writing, but it had the opposite effect.

Over fifteen years later, and I'm still writing stories that may or may not feature the "villains" from my K-12 days. The difference is, now I'm a fully realized adult who knows both the power of words and my self-worth.

If I could go back to my younger self, I would tell her that she will grow up to be an amazing, successful, young woman who realized her dream. Then, I'd tell her to go invest in stocks for Apple and Google so she can grow up rich.

Did you enjoy this blog post? Then you're going to love my fiction! Support my projects today by going to website. I'm also running a Backerkit Campaign for my short story collection Blood Ties. Check it out today to receive a TON of rewards!