Why did they do this to us? We never did anything to them.

Was it because were new? Was it because we were smarter than them? Was it because we couldn't speak the local language? Whatever it was, it wasn't fair.

I hated it when they would literally push me around, not let me play soccer, try to steal my homework, exclude me from conversations, leave me all alone at PE or kick soccer balls onto my head.

You had it worse, though. You were only 5. It was your first time being in a different country. You had the hardest time adjusting. You were constantly teased in the bus and put under pressure by the teachers, even though you were just a kid.

They didn't accept your behavior, and that was ridiculous. I mean, can you blame a regular 5-year-old for being picky about food? Or asking questions every once in a while?

You would cry every day after school, while I had decided to rebel against my torturers. Well, our torturers, actually, because we shared each other's pain.

They kicked you out of school when you were 7. It wasn't even your fault. Your classmate had decided to lie about you to the Principal. Apparently, he was very experienced in the art of lying. All your other classmates sided with him.

The case wouldn't have been carried forward if the leader's parents hadn't paid the Principal to kick you out, and that was that. Our parents had a hard time getting you back into school.

Even after that, nothing changed. No one cared about us. Our parents even started beating me. We ended up going to under-qualified psychiatrists. They just assumed we were insecure, so they tried to boost our self-confidence every time we went to them.

It was useless, though. They didn't need to. You had stopped crying over things your classmates said or did and I didn't openly rebel anymore either. You were gaining confidence on your own and I was training myself to stop caring.

Every single appointment made us feel worse instead of better. God knows how I wanted to strangle those psychiatrists.

But in the end, none of it mattered, we would come home to each other and everything would be okay.


This story is about me and my brother who is 2 years younger than me. It's completely true.