Post by wednesday on May 11, 2008 20:26:30 GMT
One of my bestestest friends has dyslexia and with his permission I took a little bit of inspiration from him and started writing this story. It is likey to contain a smidgeon of hard hitting content but at the end of the day that's not a bad thing.
Writers notes: The title is designed to appear how a dyslexic person would see it, just to give it a bit of deeper content.
This ones for you Harry
Disexisc
“Harry j…jumpet over a naerby f…fence, and…”
The teacher snatched the book from Harry’s fingers and pointed exaggeratedly towards the door “Go and stand outside, I won’t have you make a mockery of this classroom.”
Harry grabbed his schoolbag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder before giving a swift middle finger to a group of his snickering classmates and standing outside with his back against the wall.
He hated school, everything about it. He wouldn’t have minded so much if the teacher’s weren’t such arse-holes, but they seemed to get as much of a kick from picking on him as they did from their secret Irish coffees in the staff room.
It was hard being Disexisc in one of the s**tiest areas south of the equator but he never let it get him down, it was one of many nuisances that he took in his stride.
Across the corridor a hot year eleven was giving him the eyes, her jaw moved mechanically as she chewed a wad of Wrigley’s finest and her finger made a coaxing gesture, inviting him to share her side of the wall.
He smiled and ran a hand through his dark hair as he came to stand next to her. “What did you do this time Sherron?”
Sherron smiled and licked her lips lightly, “apparently Mr. Rogers doesn’t find the nickname Ass-b**ch as endearing as I had hoped.”
Harry laughed quietly and shifted himself into a cross legged position on the floor. He admired Sherron’s attitude, which was very similar to his own. But he also couldn’t help but notice her physicality; after all, he was well in tune with his sexuality.
She applied a layer of lip-gloss before sliding down the wall with her legs outstretched, a classic position that she found annoyed her teachers significantly.
“So, what brings you here?”
“They made me read out loud.”
Sherron nodded her head sympathetically, her green highlights highly visible amongst her dark hair as they reflected in the strip lights.
Sherron and Harry had been close friends for two years now and she was well aware of the teacher’s hostility to accept Harry’s minor disability.
“Well screw them anyway,” added Harry becoming visibly angry “screw you Mrs. Thompson!”
Inside the classroom a roundhouse of gasps could be heard as Mrs. Thompson poked her head through the doorway, “that’s detention Mr. Lane.”
Sherron giggled and put her arm around Harry’s shoulder, “I guess I’ll be seeing you there.”
Harry gave an honest chuckle but he was slightly put off by the fact that Sherron’s arm was resting on his shoulder, no matter how much he tried to hide it he was obviously attracted to her and despite his lack of decent English skills he was pretty good looking himself.
“Hey Harry I need to tell you something…”
Sherron’s voice was drowned out as the bell rang shrilly in the background. Harry propped himself into an upright position whilst an orchestra of scraping chairs played in the background and gave Sherron a swift goodbye before heading to his locker.
He had to practically flatten himself against the wall not to get crushed by the stampede of cooped up teens, but after a couple of minutes the corridor was empty enough for him to open up his locker and shove some of his unneeded school books inside.
As he pulled his citizenship book from his bag a swarm of un-glued in pieces of paper fluttered to the floor and he sighed heavily as he realized he would have to pick them up.
As he bent down he felt a foot press firmly into his back and his bag strap was pulled tightly in the other direction so that it crushed his ribs.
Behind him he heard the familiar laughs of Carl Johnson and his mindless cronies. The assumption was proven as Carl himself crouched in front of Harry and gave a taunting chuckle. “Look who it is, little Slexic.”
Harry’s face had begun to turn red, a mixture of resentment towards Carl and lack of proper circulation.
Whoever was holding Harry let go of his bag strap so that his chin slammed into the tiled floor and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth as he bit his tongue.
“Dck wd.” Harry’s vowels were lost as his tongue began to swell and he tried to shift into a standing position.
Lance, who was Carl’s most loyal follower, punched Harry hard in the gut whilst Carl held him in position.
Harry was used to the taunting but Carl hardly ever bullied him physically and he didn’t know what he had done to earn the beating.
“Hey Slexic, where’s your mam?”
Harry’s stomach churned and he pretended to not hear the question whilst another fist was planted into the bridge of his nose, spraying blood across his chest as he doubled up against the wall.
“I said, where’s your mam Slexic.” taunted Carl cruelly.
Harry refused to admit that she was dead, he accepted the fact but he would never give Carl the satisfaction of hearing him say it out loud.
“What did I do?” Chocked Harry, desperate to stop the beating.
Carl pulled Harry up by his T-shirt so that they were face to face and stared him down maniacally, “stay away from Sherron, she’s my girlfriend now and I don’t want you near her.”
The last thing Harry felt was his heart being wrenched sideways by the force of the words and then his world turned black and his head spun in circles as Carl’s head connected with his already damaged nose and all consciousness slipped through his fingers.
Writers notes: The title is designed to appear how a dyslexic person would see it, just to give it a bit of deeper content.
This ones for you Harry
Disexisc
“Harry j…jumpet over a naerby f…fence, and…”
The teacher snatched the book from Harry’s fingers and pointed exaggeratedly towards the door “Go and stand outside, I won’t have you make a mockery of this classroom.”
Harry grabbed his schoolbag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder before giving a swift middle finger to a group of his snickering classmates and standing outside with his back against the wall.
He hated school, everything about it. He wouldn’t have minded so much if the teacher’s weren’t such arse-holes, but they seemed to get as much of a kick from picking on him as they did from their secret Irish coffees in the staff room.
It was hard being Disexisc in one of the s**tiest areas south of the equator but he never let it get him down, it was one of many nuisances that he took in his stride.
Across the corridor a hot year eleven was giving him the eyes, her jaw moved mechanically as she chewed a wad of Wrigley’s finest and her finger made a coaxing gesture, inviting him to share her side of the wall.
He smiled and ran a hand through his dark hair as he came to stand next to her. “What did you do this time Sherron?”
Sherron smiled and licked her lips lightly, “apparently Mr. Rogers doesn’t find the nickname Ass-b**ch as endearing as I had hoped.”
Harry laughed quietly and shifted himself into a cross legged position on the floor. He admired Sherron’s attitude, which was very similar to his own. But he also couldn’t help but notice her physicality; after all, he was well in tune with his sexuality.
She applied a layer of lip-gloss before sliding down the wall with her legs outstretched, a classic position that she found annoyed her teachers significantly.
“So, what brings you here?”
“They made me read out loud.”
Sherron nodded her head sympathetically, her green highlights highly visible amongst her dark hair as they reflected in the strip lights.
Sherron and Harry had been close friends for two years now and she was well aware of the teacher’s hostility to accept Harry’s minor disability.
“Well screw them anyway,” added Harry becoming visibly angry “screw you Mrs. Thompson!”
Inside the classroom a roundhouse of gasps could be heard as Mrs. Thompson poked her head through the doorway, “that’s detention Mr. Lane.”
Sherron giggled and put her arm around Harry’s shoulder, “I guess I’ll be seeing you there.”
Harry gave an honest chuckle but he was slightly put off by the fact that Sherron’s arm was resting on his shoulder, no matter how much he tried to hide it he was obviously attracted to her and despite his lack of decent English skills he was pretty good looking himself.
“Hey Harry I need to tell you something…”
Sherron’s voice was drowned out as the bell rang shrilly in the background. Harry propped himself into an upright position whilst an orchestra of scraping chairs played in the background and gave Sherron a swift goodbye before heading to his locker.
He had to practically flatten himself against the wall not to get crushed by the stampede of cooped up teens, but after a couple of minutes the corridor was empty enough for him to open up his locker and shove some of his unneeded school books inside.
As he pulled his citizenship book from his bag a swarm of un-glued in pieces of paper fluttered to the floor and he sighed heavily as he realized he would have to pick them up.
As he bent down he felt a foot press firmly into his back and his bag strap was pulled tightly in the other direction so that it crushed his ribs.
Behind him he heard the familiar laughs of Carl Johnson and his mindless cronies. The assumption was proven as Carl himself crouched in front of Harry and gave a taunting chuckle. “Look who it is, little Slexic.”
Harry’s face had begun to turn red, a mixture of resentment towards Carl and lack of proper circulation.
Whoever was holding Harry let go of his bag strap so that his chin slammed into the tiled floor and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth as he bit his tongue.
“Dck wd.” Harry’s vowels were lost as his tongue began to swell and he tried to shift into a standing position.
Lance, who was Carl’s most loyal follower, punched Harry hard in the gut whilst Carl held him in position.
Harry was used to the taunting but Carl hardly ever bullied him physically and he didn’t know what he had done to earn the beating.
“Hey Slexic, where’s your mam?”
Harry’s stomach churned and he pretended to not hear the question whilst another fist was planted into the bridge of his nose, spraying blood across his chest as he doubled up against the wall.
“I said, where’s your mam Slexic.” taunted Carl cruelly.
Harry refused to admit that she was dead, he accepted the fact but he would never give Carl the satisfaction of hearing him say it out loud.
“What did I do?” Chocked Harry, desperate to stop the beating.
Carl pulled Harry up by his T-shirt so that they were face to face and stared him down maniacally, “stay away from Sherron, she’s my girlfriend now and I don’t want you near her.”
The last thing Harry felt was his heart being wrenched sideways by the force of the words and then his world turned black and his head spun in circles as Carl’s head connected with his already damaged nose and all consciousness slipped through his fingers.