Now, if there was one place where bullying was mild, it was Pleasantville Private School. It wasn’t the fault of the teachers, the school itself, or the entire student body. It was a few narrow-minded, mean-spirited kids who weren’t deep enough to appreciate the fact that we’re all different and unique in our own ways. Sometimes, some vicious kids who didn’t go to Pleasantville Private School but had my father as a teacher in high school slammed him. So it wasn’t as if my whole town, or even my whole school was against me. Yet occasionally I got a malevolent comment every once in a while, and it hurt.
But there came a point when it was more than that. My problems were beyond the ignorant minds of bigots yet within the walls of my home. Lately, dad had been acting extremely fussy, irritable, and exasperated. He just wasn’t the same anymore. I missed all the songs he used to sing, all the praise he used to give, but most of all, I missed the father he once was.