Dorm Rat

It was with a clenched jaw and a boiling rage that I dragged myself back into the hellhole they called high school—except now it was worse. It had transformed into a twisted prison under the thumb of those uninformed puppets from Warren Air Force Base. The place reeked of stale air and control as if the walls themselves were in on the joke that was my life.

They zeroed in on me like vultures, circling for their next meal, slapping the label “dorm rat” on me like I was less than nothing. A joke. And for what? For their sins. Not once did I snitch or give them a reason to come after me, but that didn’t matter. The paranoia of those weed-smoking cowards hung around my neck like a noose, tightening with every fucking glance they shot my way. They got to walk around like kings, laughing behind their hands while I ended up in the back of a goddamn ambulance, choking on their smoke.

The brass? Those cold-hearted bastards didn’t give a shit. Watching me squirm was their entertainment. Each day, they turned the screws tighter, waiting for me to snap, daring me to. I was their scapegoat, their so-called traitor in a rigged system. They wanted me broken and humiliated. And the worst part? They enjoyed it. “Dorm rat”—someone carved it into my door like a brand, a reminder that I wasn’t even human in their eyes. Every day, another fucking reminder.

I locked myself away in my room like a cornered animal. Not because I was scared—fuck no—but because I had to. The rage was growing in me, eating away at whatever the person I used to be was left. One wrong word, one wrong look, and I knew I’d explode.

They wanted me to lose it–to lash out so they could point and say, “See? He’s the problem.” But I wasn’t giving them the satisfaction.

I’d get up before dawn, showing, dressing, slipping out like a ghost. It was better than facing the gauntlet of bullshit that awaited me every day.

Each step felt like walking into a buzzsaw of hatred and cruelty, but I kept going. I had to because no one was going to break me. The assholes thought I was their fucking rat, but I wasn’t. I was a caged animal biding my time, waiting.

I wanted to burn their whole fucked-up game to the ground, and they wouldn’t even see it coming. And the thought of that kept me going.