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    Slimy
    Slimy
    Slimy
    Ebook100 pages1 hour

    Slimy

    By Karen Arnpriester

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Slimy is the painful account of my experiences as a bullied, isolated and humiliated child. My journey of abuse began in the fifth grade and continued through the ninth. I chose to share my story so that others will understand how bullying can damage and alter a child’s self-image. How we learn to tolerate injustice and mistreatment as if we do not deserve anything better. A belief that can alter a lifetime.

    My story is sad and filled with powerful memories that affected who I became, but my story is not unique, many children are targeted and suffer quietly without an escape. Every school has bullies, children that are angry, hurtful people who are allowed to control and determine who has value and who does not.

    I believe that a solution to the rampant epidemic of bullying will need the involvement of parents and teachers, but the most effective resolve for this growing threat will require a student body that chooses not to tolerate bullies and the pain they inflict. The true power belongs to the students who passively watch. These students empower the bullies through their silence and apathy.

    I hope to encourage the bullied child, inspire the student body to make a difference and expose the fear that bullies operate through.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKaren Arnpriester
    Release dateFeb 3, 2014
    ISBN9781311995209
    Slimy
    Author

    Karen Arnpriester

    Karen Slimick Arnpriester, author of Anessia’s Quest and Raider's Vendetta, a graphic artist, wife and mother, lives in central California. She has four adult children and seven grandchildren. She has just released Slimy for children and parents who are dealing with bullying.Karen and her husband Don have adopted their two wonderful foster daughters, Chloe and Samantha.Karen looks forward to sharing her imagination and faith with you through her writing.

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      Book preview

      Slimy - Karen Arnpriester

      Slimy

      By Karen Arnpriester

      Copyright 2014 Karen Arnpriester

      Smashwords Edition

      Dedication

      I would like to dedicate this book to the people who love me. Your gifts of encouragement and support strengthened me during my journey to healing. Because of you, I was able to find my joy and passion for life.

      I also want to dedicate this book to Jessie. I have not used your real name, but if you read this, you will know who you are. You have no idea how your compassion for Doug touched my heart. I have often wondered where you are and if you continued to be a person of great strength and character.

      I also want to mention my secret friend, Tina. I have so many fond memories of our time together. The circumstances were not ideal, but I love you for what you were able to give me during a very dark time in my life.

      My sister Alanna, you were a good sister and I will always consider you my bestest friend.

      Jenn, your birth triggered such a profound desire to feel again, to love again, to make myself available for a sweet creature with a precious smile. You were the very bright light at the end of my dark tunnel.

      Donald, my love, you finished my healing with your patience and adoring love. You were the one and I am sorry that it took so long for us to find each other.

      The Significance of the Dandelion ... When I began writing, I thought, I am so old. Why am I starting this now? Then I remembered the dandelion. It lives it’s life as a flower, fresh, bright white and strong. When it’s ready to die, it dries up and looks similar to the gray head of an old soul. The wind then takes the seeds of this dying flower and spreads them throughout the area.

      I loved the idea that even though I’m old by most standards, I can still spread my ideas through my stories. Planting seeds that I hope will grow and become considerations for the reader. You will see the dandelion on every book I write, it reminds me that I am not too old to INSTIGATE!

      Instigate ... to cause (something) to happen or begin.

      Table of Contents

      The Swing Incident

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      From the Author

      Bullying: Who Are You?

      The Swing Incident

      Quickly, a crowd of kids had surrounded the swings and me, laughing and pointing, or chanting the numbers with me. A nauseating dread filled me when I realized that I was no longer invisible, but I couldn’t back down now; not with everyone watching. Our counting was almost to thirty, and the boy on the swing grinned as an evil plan developed in his head.

      As the clamor of voices yelled out "thirty," and the boy leapt off of the swing, bringing up one foot, which slammed into my pelvis. I fell to the ground with an incredible jarring pain. The circle of kids packed in tighter, laughing and cheering for the boy.

      I laid there, mortified and unable to hold the throbbing private area, which we all do if you think about it. Somehow it helps. They would not have the satisfaction of seeing me touch myself, not there. I balled up, and struggled not to cry, they could not see me cry. When the bell rang, the taunting mob scattered to their rooms.

      Lying there, alone, tears streaming down my face, I tried to sort out what had just happened. I didn’t understand why they all hated me; I didn’t do anything to them that would make this extreme abuse reasonable. Was being different so terrible? They liked different colors, TV shows, and ice cream flavors. It seemed that more choices and variety was a good thing, except when it came to people. Who said we were all supposed to look alike, sound alike and act alike?

      I don’t know how long I laid there in my pain and shame. It felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been too long, or the teacher would have come looking for me, or maybe she wouldn’t. Once the throbbing had subsided to a tolerable level, I got myself up and slipped into my classroom. The kids snickered as I tried to walk upright to my desk. My teacher had her back to the class and didn’t notice that I came in late. Unless I was being humiliated, I was invisible to everyone.

      Chapter One

      I, Karen Lynn Slimick, was born in Alton, Illinois to parents who were born and raised in West Virginia. When I was seven, dad loaded us up with a few belongings into our old car, and we headed for the California bay area. I turned eight years old in the middle of Kansas’s cornfields and my dad, Robert, stopped at a small diner where we celebrated my birth with greasy burgers. My siblings and I had expected to see cowboys and movie stars once we entered the golden state, but San Leandro, our new hometown, was pretty much like everywhere else we had lived and we were disappointed. We left behind snow days, dazzling autumn leaves, fireflies, a large extended family and a comfortable midwestern lifestyle.

      My brother, Danny, was one year older than me, and my sister Alanna was one year younger. Dad got a job working at a convalescent hospital as a maintenance man, and we were settled into our new life with my mother, Maxine. My mother volunteered at the hospital and assisted the residents.

      I developed strong friendships at school and in the neighborhood; I learned about diversity and acceptance. My life experiences in the east were limited to Caucasians, and I don’t even remember eating Chinese or Mexican food, let alone seeing other ethnicities. I tried to be polite and not stare at the kids in my new class, but the accents, varying skin shades, and unique faces were fascinating. I am thankful that I was given the opportunity to know and connect with this melting pot of kids. It certainly taught me that we

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