Having had WAY TOO many crazy bookish moments in my childhood, I have been wanting to share this post ever since I wrote the part one.
My childhood was full on crazy – I’d slap someone four years older than me and then get into trouble for that, took a few things too and hid them in a place where nobody could find them and then watched everyone panic – a classic example of this was when I took my aunt’s gold ring and kept it in my room.
In my defense I was only 5 years old and that ring was very fucking shiny – it had a peacock engraved in it. IMAGINE THAT!
Yeah, so I took it – in innocence – but when she got mad at her own girls, I was afraid of telling her that it wasn’t them, it was me. And so, I didn’t speak out for the next three days – until my mum found it while looking for something in my bag.
But, hey, THAT’S ANOTHER THING!! 🤷🏻♀️ Right now, I just wanna talk about some other things I did as a child that earned me the label I now wear with much pride and respect – “The Crazy Book Girl”
Let’s begin, shall we?
Guilty of Stealing
Ladies and Gentleman, we are gathered here today to witness the public shaming of this girl – who goes by the name RAIN.
Look at her. Just look. So innocent, isn’t she? Well, don’t be fooled by her little face because behind that innocent smile is the heart of a very heinous criminal who can and WILL destroy everything you hold dear – mainly books.The Local PD, Bookishton
Yep. They are absolutely fucking right. I did steal someone’s book once.
Hey, hey, HEYYY! Before you come at me with torches and swords, let me explain dude.
It was the year 2005 and I was merely 9 years old. By that time, I had already fallen head over heels in love with books – those pretty little books hiding those pretty little stories!
This one time my ”friend” – let’s call her P – brought her recently rand new social science book to school. Okay, I admit that the content wasn’t very exciting but THOSE PAGES – glossy and smooth as butter. HARDCOVER. Pretty drawings. IT WAS THE VERY DEFINITION OF BEAUTY.
And I was jealous. And SHE FUCKING KNEW IT! That’s why she kept showing it off whole dayy!
Well, I got mad and decided I wanted that book. And so, when she went to the bathroom – I took the book out and put it in my bag. It wasn’t too big so nobody noticed me doing so.
The first few moments I felt awesome but it soon converted into guilt. As that feeling started to overpower me, I decided to out it back in her bag but she came back right at that moment and since it was the last period, I couldn’t do it that day!
When she went home, she must have cried a lot because her new book was missing. AND I FELT AWFUL TOO! And so, the next day – since I usually arrived in class before everyone else – I put the book on the very back seat and sat on my own bench.
The boy who was sitting there noticed the book in the first period, read her name and gave it back to her and that was that.
P, if you are reading this, I HOPE THIS TEACHES YOU NEVER TO FUCKING SHOW OFF!
NOW GO AWAY. You were a mean bean in the later years and I HATE YOU!
It’s all about them stickers
As a child, I had a LOT of picture books. My mum used to bring me new ones every year from the book fair. IT USED TO BE ONE OF THE MOST ANTICIPATED DAY OF THE YEAR. And then, she used to give them to me at the end of every academic year – in March.
It was a lovely tradition and it helped in cultivating my reading habit. And so, I always prized those books and kept them decorated. With lots of those puffy stickers.
One of those books was titled – ”The Best Classic Fairy Tales’‘ – It was very pretty – orange colored and puffy and it had some of my favorite stories like Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, and Beauty and the Beast.
I loved it and of course during those first few months of owning it, I would take it to school everyday, not to show it off though LIKE THAT P! Just to make sure that it’s alright, safe with me.
I never took it out of my bag in the class. Never except that one time – in the social science period. Our teacher – with her typical short hair and mean eyes – noticed it and took it from me, asking me to give it back at the period’s end.
I waited impatiently for the bell to ring and as soon as it did, I was the first one off my seat and in front of the teacher’s desk. But she decided to troll me instead, saying that she wanted to borrow the book for a day – so that her daughter could read it.
I couldn’t very well refuse her, EXAMS WERE NEAR, worse luck! And so I nodded.
The next day, however, when she returned the book, I was shocked to see what her daughter had done – torn off ALL OF MY STICKERS, leaving the pages looking ugly with all those white patches. Like this: 😦
And you know what? She pretended as if that was always the case – as if it was like that when she took it from me in the first place!
LIKE WHAT THE FUCK?! An apology would’ve been nice.
From that day, I started being rude to that particular teacher and she’d purposefully cut my marks off for the MOST RANDOM MISTAKES.
Hide your sweaters from me if you are a rude ass punk.
Some of you who have read the part one of this post already know that I once beat up a guy for stealing my book. Well, that wasn’t the only bookish beating I executed.
There was one more. Just one. But this one is VERY important and I AM STILL VERY PROUD OF IT.
I must have been around 11? years old when this happened. You see, I used to sit with this guy from my class in the bus while going back home. He and I used to read comics. The seats used to be really small so we would sit very close to each other and read from the comics – just random cartoons or something, I don’t even remember their names now.
And this other classmate of mine, call him Hasshole, he used to make fun of that. He used to gossip about us, that mean boy gossip you know, it makes me laugh now that I think about it.
But boy did he cross his limit when he snatched the comic from us this one time and crumpled it (they used to be very thin) and started laughing like the Hasshole he was!
He shouldn’t have done that. I got so fucking angry that I went to him, pinned him to the back of the bus, and tore his sweater a bit, starting with it’s v neck. You get the idea, yeah?
He cried and cried until his stop came and unfortunately, it was the same as mine. When his mum, standing there to pick him up, saw this she asked him about it and he told her everything.
She scolded me and took me to my mother, who then scolded me again and I wasn’t allowed to go out to play FOR A WEEK!