You might think I'm exaggerating. You might think I'm fantasizing. But this isn't a fantasy. Nor is it an exaggeration. This is Hell on earth.

When I was in my junior year, I started noticing people in the town I went to school in acting strange when they saw me. I at first thought they realized that I would just as soon stomp them than look at them. I thought they would finally back off and leave me the * alone. I was more than off.

Apparently, someone in school had gotten the bright idea to start spreading rumors that I had an assault rifle and said I was going to open fire at graduation and set up bombs at prom.

Excuse me? What?

Ok lets get one thing straight. I'm not a lunatic. I can act like I am in jest, but I'm not. Give me a little credit here. If I had inclinations to do something like that, how stupid would I have to be to announce it first? I may not be the president of Mensa, but my IQ is still bigger than my shoe size. Second, I had no idea how to even build a simple pipe bomb. My experience with explosives was Black Cats. Third, where the hell am I getting this assault rifle they want so badly for me to use?

The bullying had been nuclear since I moved into the district, but I was the one getting suspended for it. Which caused the beatings at home to become worse, which in turn caused me to be even meaner at school. But that's irrelevant to this.

The night of prom, I thought it was still 2 weeks away. I was at a place that I volunteered at. I'm standing there behind the register, and I see someone coming down the stairs into the store. I go to say hello, and it turns out to be a cop. Now this store is not the type of place you will find a cop. It's a hippie type place that isn't really favored by the local law force. So I'm taken aback a bit by seeing him. He comes up to me and asks if I'm Jared. I was like "Uhh....yeah." He then proceeds to ask me what my plans are that night. I told him I was picking up my girlfriend and a couple friends and we were going to go out to a local dance hall called Good Time. After that we were all going home and going to bed as it would be 1:00 in the morning. He asked if I had any other plans. I asked him if he had * in his ears, and that I had just told him my plans. Then I asked him why the hell he cared. That was when I found out about the bomb threat. I know in a small town things can get boring, but is this really what it has to resort to for entertainment? He then said he peeked in my truck and saw some bullets in the console. I was like "your point?". He asked if he could search my truck. I asked for his warrant. He didn't have one. I told him bring a warrant and he could search it all day. He asked me why I said no. I told him it was because I was through letting the cops harass me ever second of the day. I literally couldn't go anywhere at the time without one of them tailing me. And Gods forbid I get within 20 miles of anywhere that sold guns or ammo. I eventually started taking wild courses through neighborhoods, and off roads to lose them so I could get a few moments peace. If they had been up my butt any further, they would have been sticking out my nose.

The reason there were bullets in my truck was because it was close to deer season and I had been at the range with my rifle.

I had no idea where prom was even being held, but was warned that if I was seen near there I would be detained. FOR WHAT? DRIVING? If I fart are you going to arrest me for chemical warfare? I laughed in his face and told him he couldn't arrest me for being in the vicinity. Being in the vicinity of Auschwitz does not mean I'm Adolf Hitler.

By that point I was beyond livid. I called someone up to relieve me, and I went in the back to try to settle down. One guy bought me a bottle of tea, and talked me down. I'm not going to lie, I wanted so bad to deck that cop. After I was able to talk without screaming I explained what was going on. He was white as a sheet when I finished. He offered to go on record on my behalf, but I told him it wouldn't do any good. In a small minded town, anyone different, with different beliefs, is a target. And it doesn't matter how many people go to bat for them. They're all going to strike out whether they hit the ball or not.

From what I heard, parents from kids in every grade were calling the school wanting to know if it was safe to send their kids in. My supposed "aunt" was the secretary in the office, but she didn't help the situation. When they asked if she knew me, she admitted that she had known me my whole life and that she was my aunt. But she also volunteered that I was a weird and disturbed child.

Thanks.

That was halfway into the year. That was also when I dropped out. I heard that at what would have been my graduation there were undercover cops there. Obviously nothing happened, or I wouldn't be typing this. I honestly did consider making a speech about bullying there, and then putting a bullet in my own head after letting them know that they drove me to it. Once again, obviously that didn't happen either.

Here's the kicker that makes me sick to this day. After I dropped out, I vowed to never go back to that town for any reason, and I have kept that vow. But when nothing happened at graduation, a new rumor formed. 

I never specified what graduation I was going to shoot up or which prom I was going to bomb.

So for the last 20 years there have been undercover cops at every school function. Specifically graduation and prom. And they move prom every year so I have a harder time finding it.

I would love to let loose with a lot of words that aren't allowed, because I feel like it would help me blow off some steam. But I would rather be allowed here in somewhat decent standing, as opposed to five minutes of posting a hundred vulgarities and being banned.

This is part of why it was easy to be clinically diagnosed a sociopath. Because after treatment of this caliber, human life has grown to mean absolutely nothing to me. I won't go into detail about what actions I would take in certain situations, but rest assured, the diagnosis is spot on. I'm more misanthropic than anyone can know. I've gone numb anymore. I'm willing to offer my thoughts, and I mean what I say or I wouldn't say it. But those words are invalidated when applied to myself. I've become a cutter, just to feel something. Anything. I love seeing the blood well up and start running down. I have all kinds of scars on my arm. Sometimes I even rub salt in the wound.

When you've got nothing, and never had a chance, you take what you can get. And all too often, it's still nothing.

You can only fall so far, before there's nowhere left to go.

Times up.