High School Autobiography (Hero Generation)

CHAPTER 37: Autobiography of Laisa. (Part 1)

I am Laisa Andriani Vati. Called Laisa. Born in Artana, June 20, 2001. Born as the only child of a wealthy family.

My mother was a restaurant entrepreneur, my father was an artist, writer, and painter.

Ever since I was born, I've always been spoiled by my parents, whatever I ask for, will soon come true. They love me so much, they love me so much.

And when I was in 5th grade, when I went to elementary school in an elite housing complex, near where I lived, I was the kid my friends always shunned, other than I was naughty, I'm stupid too.

Back then, while I was sitting in the Teacher's lounge chair, my mother was called to the school and faced my homeroom teacher.

“Mother, daughter mother still can not read, and Laisa, still like to steal food in Teacher's office, she is still naughty.”

My homeroom teacher Elli's mother, exposed the fact of my mischief, which seemed to corner my mother.

”Mother! I should have thought! Laisa is still a child! So it's natural that he's naughty!“

My mother always stood up for me even though I had done something wrong.

”What is the loss? Ha's? What money do you need?“

My mother even scolded my homeroom teacher.

It's nothing, I can go to class anyway, because of the mercy of my homeroom teacher. And at that moment, with his insistent mother, stood up for me, on the grounds that I could change, so inevitably, Master Elli's mother was forced to give in, again forgiving my misbehavior. My naughty behavior I don't know how many times.

Since entering elementary school, I've been labeled a bad boy, a child who can't be silent, a child who always colonizes my friends, to the point that, I never focus on lessons, especially, the, my grades are always substandard.

In fact, I was able to get into this school because my mom bribed me. I was about to be put into an elite school in the city of Artana, only, it couldn't be bribed.

And of course, because of my stupidity, and my mischief, some of my friends also used to mock me, that I wouldn't have a future as good as my parents, I didn't even have friends here.

And when I went to school, I always had extra hours of lessons, yeah, just to read, I couldn't read. But I was always confused by the letters.

”Dam hina kina mas,“ I read a story with my ability to read.

”Laisa, it's read .. 'and said goldfish'. Come dong Laisa, you can, just lazy aja.“ my homeroom teacher tried to encourage me.

”Yes already Mom, I want to go home, there is no point also will read,“ I said that the time is also up.

”Aduuuuh, yes already, you go home, but remember, do not play, go straight home ya.“

But I was apathetic with that, I put on my bag, stepped towards the door, then turned around, and immediately mocked my homeroom teacher.

”Deed mother teacher fool ...,“ I even mocked my homeroom with a memelet.

Then ran away without any burden. Nevertheless, my homeroom teacher Elli's mother, always patiently handled my insolent attitude, no matter how many times I mocked my homeroom teacher, and amazingly, she always smiled calmly in response to me.

My SD is near my house. Nusaelite SD. However, I did not go home immediately, I always played in the park in the housing complex of my house. I did not come to play, but to disturb the children there.

When I was looking at three girls playing on a swing, they laughed cheerfully.

Until I came, to dispel their joy, and to take a handful of sand from this garden area, I threw this sand at the children, saying, I will, ”Come go stupid kids, go ...“

So clearly, the three girls stopped playing the swing, and rubbed their eyes, complete with whimpering in pain.

”Hahahaha .. a crybaby! Blubbering! Let's go home to your mama! Go home!“ ledekku laughed proudly.

With crying three girls ran away sobbing crying, one of them, had rebuked me, but finally came home too.

And the atmosphere of the park became quiet, but thankfully, I was able to control this entire playground, moreover, I immediately used the swing that the three girls had used. Swing with two seats.

Me, sitting on a swing chair while swinging my legs and starting to play swings. I have no friends, all the children I have always made enemies, yes, apathy with them, I can be happy in my own way.

Almost every day, I would drive away the children playing in this park, but, day after day in this park, it would feel fat when the children were never here again, everything feels lost somewhere, until the feeling of loneliness I always feel.

Until one day, I heard the news that my homeroom teacher, Elli's mother, had dropped out of school, and had no idea where she was going.

It made the homeroom teacher in my class be replaced, right by a new teacher, a tough guy, and very unfair to me. Barnama Bambang's. Mr. Bambang.

Then it's clear. When he found out that I was a bad boy who couldn't read. He was making fun of me. He said I was not perfect.

”Read the right one! Your students here are all perfect! No one is as flawed as you.“

My homeroom teacher this time always and always discriminated against me. Of course I was angry, but for this time, I kept it. And even his whole hard sentence, became a burden in my mind.

Only I in my class always get rough treatment, only I always get discriminatory attitude, when all the students are gently guided with full attention. I have always been harshly and unfairly guided.

I was yelled at, I was also always scolded, whatever it was, I would always be mocked imperfectly.

Every time I get an extra hour of study, for the sake of learning to read. Various words that hurt my heart are always echoed.

”The world demands perfection, Laisa, humans love perfection!“

”All creatures will be happy when perfect!“

”Everything that is flawed will be spat on, everything that is imperfect will be shunned!“

”Everything that is not perfect will be insulted and maki scorned, everything must be perfect, absolutely must be perfect! Because imperfection is a sin!“

And on and on, until every day that sentence is echoed, as if to doctrine me, to instill suggestions, to give me a reality that eventually becomes a bitter reality, and then develops into mental illness, making that principle always in my head.

I did not dare to bully this one teacher, not because he was fierce, but because, my teacher always threatened me, moreover, he had physical strength that I felt was stronger than me.

Then the time turned, and when I was raised to 6th grade, all the condemnation, and the frightening sentence of my homeroom teacher, still in my head, until it felt, like, it has become my mindset. And in fact, I still can't read.

Nevertheless, I never talked about this matter to my parents, not anything, my teacher always threatened me. That if I talk to my parents about the roughness of my homeroom teacher, it means I'm a handicapped child. So obviously, since I don't like to be insulted, so until this moment, I'm alone.

People will never understand my feelings, unless they are in my position, because, only humans who have ever felt heartache, will know what heartache is.

In the afternoon, when I was coming home from school, I was sitting alone on the swing, reading a textbook, with the aim of learning to read.

Even when I was studying, the shadow of my homeroom speech was always in my mind.

"Everything has to be perfect!"

"Everything has to be perfect!"

When I hold a textbook, my hand always shakes, because after all, I always feel afraid of being imperfect. And when the words in the book I read, I started to get scared and even felt hard to read, I was afraid, very afraid of failure, because it was not perfect.

For a few minutes I struggled with the difficulty of reading. If I asked my mother for help, she would definitely be busy taking care of her business, and if I asked my father for help, my father would be busy traveling out of town to do his hobby. Money, and money, that's what I always got, right under my bed, I got a suitcase full of money.

But suddenly, while I was still anxious because it was hard to read, suddenly, a cockroach perched on top of my reading book. I wasn't afraid, but, a second after, a boy scared me with a cockroach on top of my book, yeah, maybe because he was doing a prank.

”Awas there gibberish!“ yelled the boy.

But because his jail effort failed, he started to approach me, then took his cockroach.

”Any, usually girls are afraid of cockroaches?“ wonder this squinty kid.

To the point that he tilted his head to the right just for the sake of looking at my face.

”You're great! You're the first girl to dare to be a cockroach!“ his flattery.

” Introduce! I'm Anka, you I adopted as my first girl friend!“ he continued to introduce himself until he reached out his right hand.

But, I did not rub it, I was just disturbed by his presence, suddenly, I then moved and turned to go home.