In memory of Bruno

Bruno was the taller boy up, with his smiling face, and I was the queen of sadness the first one from right to left set down. He was 14 y old, I was 13.

Bruno was in my class at 5 level. He was a rascal, I mean he liked wasting people's face. He was older than me, a strange boy, with blue eyes.
Once he told me that his parents knew mine, I asked my mother if she reminded something, she answered without hesitation "no". Bruno had a victim face. Now thinking of him, I'm sure he has been abused.
I was his victim, he liked teasing me, screaming I was in love with him (that was true) ; he humiliated a boy from my class removing the pants of this boy in front of all kids waiting for their teacher. he raised my dress (the one time I dressed one at school).
But I felt he wasn't as strong as he used to show. One day I was at a drawing class and I was showing to a pal of mine some pictures from a teenager's magazine "OK", I showed Police' band and Kim Wilde. Bruno came to me after the class and asked me if I wanted to share pictures with him.
He wanted Police band's pictures, and he'd give me Kim Wilde's pictures. I said ok.
I felt to much glad he talked to me.
We shared pictures then, I was proud to have a buddy like him.
At the end of the school year, a teacher wanted to plan a rafting trip in The Verdon's place. I didn't know how to swim and I didn't want to spend time with most of my ass buddies, so I have never asked permission to my parents.
We had a good sport's teacher, but I had to lie to him: I told him I couldn't go there because my parents didn't give me permission, and Bruno couldn't go there for the same reason. So the plan was done. Bruno stayed with me asking me why I couldn't go there. And he told me how much his parents sucked, and didn't want to please him. He was very disappointed. I was ashamed.
On June I moved with my funky parents, and I've never met him again.
On 1985, I was in a mall, with my mother, and I met one of my ass buddies, she told me that Bruno had kill himself .
I was shocked, I couldn't believe he did that, and he wasn't alive anymore.I thought my pal lied to me, later I received a letter from one of my old buddies , and she wrote he did.
Bruno is an angel, sometimes I think of him, he was so ironic, so provocative. He was just 15 years old...RIP Bruno, I won't forget you.

Did you feel comfortable with your relatives ?

Reading an excellent article on a french magazine, I have tried to remind if I felt comfortable in my family, the answer is : NO.
Most of the time with my parents at home or in the car I felt no secure. With my grand parents (from dad) I felt unsecure. At school too, I have memory of a big kid who saw me in the toilets at younger kids school, he opened the door, and I was inside, BUT NOTHING COMES BACK on mind !
With my grand parents (from mom) I felt secure, why ? Because I was loved, I wanted to spend my childood with them. My grand father drove me anywhere, I discovered flowers, vegetables, gardening, life. When he was a cop, he was an alcoholic, my mother told me he spanked her very often and she had to buy beer and wine bottles for him.
But he had a cancer so he stopped drinking alcohol and he used to drink water with some lemon juice.
My grand father (from dad) was an alcoholic too, he drove me too Zoo but my one memory is one day he was drunk, my grand mother coming back home took me and she drove me back home, my grand father followed her with his car, and she said "He's has rocksin his head". I cried in the car because I loved my grand father, but I couldn't love my grand mother.

The one moment, I felt really secure was at Xmas, when my grand parents were at home on December 24th, I wanted to keep them with me forever. I was afraid of anything, but I told myself, we can't feel unsecure because we're all in one house. I didn't want to lose my grand father.
He passed away on 1988.

Marion my one true friend

I met her repeating my last class , honestly I met her to Paris when for the first time of my life, my parents allowed me to go there with school, we met each other on June 86, it was a trip with all classes, but hopefully, students who sucked weren't there except Sebastien.
We were in a bus, I stayed beside the one who told to everyone about my pants (cf my post about Wet), but I had plans, I didn't want to stay with her all trip long. When we arrived to Paris, there were people from Brazil, and french, (because of football) it's my best memory of humanity, because brazilians are more human than other people on this planet. Everyone laught, said "Hello", and I realized , that Sebastien was beside me in the bus and he left when I saw him.
When we joined the hotel, I had to share the bedroom with 2 girls I didn't like, so I spent a lot of time in the bathroom, because the bath was comfortable, and I took my time. When I joined the girls, a boy was runing in the hotel screaming because a girl wanted to kiss him and she had a knife in her hands. I laughed, because I couldn't believe it, people are often paranoid, and my "lovely" pal told me, "you'll be with this girl next year..." she was for once right.
I didn't like too much Marion because she was like glue with me, I believed she was lesbian.
We spent time both, visiting The Louvre museum. Paris is a wonderful town in France, for tourists :).
Then we returned back home 4 days later, my head full of life, smiles, fun, et cetera.
On september, I was with Marion in the same student class. And for the 86's picture she was beside me her hand on my shoulder.
Sophie was with us too, she was a silly girl, we shared a lot of things, we were a band in the class, I helped Marion and Sophie. They were my true friends!
For once in my life, I had real friends, Marion stayed often at home, her mother was rude, and she thought mine was better ... It wasn't important, because I liked her.
But on 87 my father was kick out of his job. And he stayed at home all days long, angry, drinking, and because he had friends he found a job in another place, so we moved to Digne.
Too sad, my friends stayed there, my parents sold their house, and we left.
I missed Marion so we shared letters, and I called her any weekend, because the cab phone closed to my grand parent's home was free. I swear, the cab phone helped me to keep contact with Marion, I called her for 2 or 3 hours with 1Franc (old french money=€ 1/7 ) .
It was always funny. but on 88 my grand-father passed away from cancer, and we moved again, joining Sisteron.
When we lived to Digne, I have met a lot of pals, I wasn't too much at home, because my mother was despressed and she was rude, one day she robed my books, I used to read too much and she took my books for their book case's.
I was again living a platonic love story with a boy who studying for being graduated, he was as much shy as me...so nothing happened ,
One time, on a party, I was watching him, we were dancing (not together) and another student, a gorgeous one, kissed my neck taking my hand for leaving with him, a buddy told me "go on", I said "no", because I was watching L, who was watching me. But I regreat it.
I kept Marion in touch, writing her, but when I moved to Sisteron, I changed, I was missing my grand-father, and I felt Marion lied to me, I knew she was as much mythomaniac as my brother, she lied more and more. We went to a discotheque both on the end of 89, and it was the last time we really met.
On 90's I wrote her, telling our friendship was over, I wrote a long letter, and I received her answer quickly, she was angry.
I returned living to Aix, for my studies, and some years later on 97 I met her in a mall she was a cashier, we didn't talk, but she recognized me. I found her on the white pages, I called her, and she told me her life, I didn't trust her anymore. We decided to meet again, but I called again her two days later, just to say "no I won't meet you again, I have changed, we can't be friend anymore". I know my behavior was stupid, but I was unemployed, alone most of the time, I have screwed up my studies because I had to work for paying these studies. And almost all, i didn't want to return in past.

But I must admit Marion was a good friend, my one best friend for years.

Sophie left the region and get married with a Parisian, I have never heard about her anymore.

Wet.

We were on June 1985, I was 14 y old, at a drawing class, I felt my panties were wet, I had a pal beside me who started to laugh thinking I have peed in my pants. She was wrong. I went out with her and I went to the toilets, it was break time, and I thought I could do something, because I weared white pants. But I couldn't, I heard few girls entered in the girl toilet's and they were speaking to me laughing, "you have peed in your pants, F! you're really stupid...blah blah blah" and there was in this band a girl who hated me (I didn't know why...) she was knowking at my closed door, which I didn't open of course, I went up on the WC because I didn't want that they discovered me in this WC, but they saw my bag, and they weren't sure I was inside...They were laughing and screaming my name.I stayed quiet in the WC just hoping that the break school was done, I felt very angry, because of them.I wet and it was not because of someone, I didn't understand. They stayed 5 minutes again after the end of the break wishing I was scared to be late at class, but I didn't care, I stayed there and they left...I stayed 5 minutes again, because there were windows every where in these class rooms. Then I decided to go back home, even if I had lessons, I really didn't care, I was humiliated, I went out, and I crossed the School Director, I was crying hiking, but she didn't mind, victims weren't important there, a boy attempted suicide there, hopefully he didn't success, but it wasn't important for people there.
I took the direction way because the doors were opened, and I hiked for 6 km for returning back home.
I said nothing to my mother, I felt very alone.
It was the fist time I was wet, and I hated myself.
After the weekend I went back school but when they tried to tease me with this event, I said "I wasn't in the toilets, you are really stupid all, I had a stomach problem and I returned back home".
Finally they felt they were wrong, but I kept on mind the fact they spent a break making a fool on me.
The girl who hated me had Italian or corsican origins, she had black eyes, very dark, and I took long years for understanding why she hated me.
The reason of that :
When I started this new school (my parents moved too much) there was a boy, very funny, Italian origins, older than me, and i wanted to flirt with him, I told this to a pal, and of course he heard it, and everyone in this school heard it, a lot of girls used to hate me all school year long because a lot of girls had a crush on him.
I never flirted with him, but I know he was attracted to me, because the first time I met him he was going out of a class screaming "screw you'" to his teacher, and I laughed because it was a special situation. He smiled seeing me.
Sébastien repeated his school year and I was in his class room for italian language. Most of boys annoyed me and he was enough smart to tell to everybody I was in love with him. But one year after my humiliation, I felt stronger, and nothing could break me down.
In same time I spent my break time with another boy who looked very lovely, Christophe, and we used to talk together while the break. As he was not loved by people I was the one talking to him, and we used to laugh together.
I did understand, thinking of these facts, 3 years ago, that one girl repeated everything to the school students, she was my neighborg but she was jealous of me, I wasn't as fat as her, and my pal from drawing class wasn't a friend, but a jealous bitch too.
I repeated too for these reasons my last school year, and I met 2 girls which I spent all my year, going out, laughing, living as ever, boys were very pleasant with me, except a big one.
And I used my time helping students in Mathematic's or Sciences, I was the first one, at school and and I had success the diploma while the first year, I felt really cool on this year.
But the big one annoyed me all year long, I'll tell you later, this post is too longer ...