My last name is Connors. It all started 2 years ago, well 2002 years ago or so...

In elementary school, I was small but academically gifted and, of course, that didn't help with relationships.

Our family came from the countryside and our habits, our dialect and our practical way of dressing were in contrast with the appearance and fashion of the city.

The first smartphones were all the rage and it was a bidding war between the kids to get their smarphone, not an old G.

Obviously, in the country, no child had this kind of gadget. Well, not yet, the madness was going to reach the parents and the toys were going to be replaced by tablets and portable game consoles in the years to come.

Considering my results and my advancement, the school had made a mistake and I left at 8 years old instead of 12...

Finally, in terms of subjects and knowledge, I had nothing to envy to all those wankers and teenagers in full crisis.

Finally, I was also known for my brutal and devastating tantrums.

I loved karate movies and I already knew Bruce-lee's moves.

That's when everything changed. I was very smart but I had a bad temper: I was not afraid of anyone bigger than me. And my defense was offense. Unfortunately, my strength did not follow my will.

Everyone laughed at me, with my big Duffel coat, a kind of super compressed wool that protected me from the cold... and from being hit!

I also had a big leather schoolbag from Elan, the skin of which was more than 6mm thick.

I had my books in it and I kept it like a big ball and chain.

The other classmates would make fun of my appearance "Hey Connors-Connard!" you smell like a sheep. "BEEEEH!"

The girls made fun of me but I kept my pride.

A gang whose leader was Xavier harassed me. They thought they could do anything because his father was the principal of St. Louis High School, where all the students who finished here went afterwards.

At home, I was welcomed by my older sister. She was everything to me. She was like a mother, but a real sister, loving, kind and gentle. For me she was the most beautiful girl and I dreamed like all the children of my age, to marry her later, but it was impossible. Without her, I would be nothing.

If one day I marry, I will have to be like her. She was a Goddess in my eyes and, without knowing it, I was developing a sibling complex.

I couldn't see any of my classmates laying eyes on her.

It was getting sickly.

Mom and Dad were also very good to me and supported me as best they could, but they both worked and Grandma would come over to watch us and take care of meals during the week when we had the day off and Mom was at work.

Life here was much the same as in any mid-sized city in the US and Europe.

The generation clash, the global culture, the burgers, the cartoons. We were all pretty much the same and the big kids treated the little ones badly too. Unfortunately, I was in that category and I knew that if I changed schools, it would be the same thing over and over and over again and also I had to think about my sister. She also had her friends and moving because I didn't fit in was not a solution.

That's why I wanted to get stronger. And my heavy bag reminded me of that. It was like weight training all the time.

The group wanted to bend me once. There was Max, Xavier and Hubin, Pascal the "roquet" and his big brother, a multi-double, stupid but very strong.

When I was smaller, I was spanked but I had planned it.

With my sister and my cousin, we had made a crossbow of my own design in a carpentry workshop at my uncle's house.

We took blocks of wood and I used a carpenter's chisel to make the notch, the arrows were cut out of an old fishing rod and the bungee cord was a car criq. The bow was a piece of truck spring.

It was a piece of crap, but it was fun. The girls were bored with the result, but I liked perfection.

I tested my crossbow at home on a magnetic dartboard on a straw chair.

In the living room, I cocked my craft but my sister called me and I didn't see the shot go off.

No more darts.

I searched for an hour. No way to find it.

Then, in despair, I looked up and saw it stuck in the wall. It had gone through the target, the chair, a very expensive painting and stuck in the wall with a big chunk of plaster missing from the fireplace. A disaster.

My father, angry as I was, discovered the disaster too, and my mother bit her lips as she imagined Dad's anger.

I turned my head slowly, seeing the red head swelling with blood and ....the slap did not come.. A customer was calling on the phone... phew, saved by the bell.

Quickly, I took the mini spreader boards and put them in my back pockets and took my father's between my underwear and my buttocks.

My sister was folded in half... she was also complicit in all my misdeeds. I loved her, I adored her.

Quickly, I hid in my room at the bottom of my bed.

BAM BAM BAM. I could still hear him coming up the stairs, furious, with an arrow in one hand and a crossbow in the other.

Dad: "What is this? Are you crazy playing with that? You could have killed yourself or someone else! Where did you get that?"

"Sorry, I didn't know... I built it..."

Dad didn't realize it but he raised his hand to my buttocks and met the wooden board.

He didn't lift it a second time... He was dying of pain!

"You're being hard on us!" and he took the crossbow to break it on his knee but the spring came loose and broke his finger and the cable cut his hand!

I shouted to him: KARMA!

My mother bandaged him up and scolded him for raising his hand to me. "You had it coming... and then it's an old painting. Another relic from your house. And it was ugly too."

Dad: "Stop making excuses for it..."

Mom: "Don't you see how much effort he puts in? And at his age, what were you doing? You were still wetting the bed!"

I used to do crap like that all the time and my sister loved to see me crash and burn all the time.

I wanted to kiss her, but it was all grown up stuff... gross!

Then came the trouble...

In the lining of my coat, I had some planks that I had sewn together so I was never afraid. Never!

It all started at the urinals. After recess, we would go to relieve ourselves and they were old systems with a vertical stone, a jet of water on top and the whole thing flowed into a deep gutter where everything mixed. The smell was strong but fortunately it was open to the outside.

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Pascal and his gang were waiting for me. They wanted my silk sheepskin coat impregnated and to send me home for the smell.

They ran until I finished my "work" to push me against the urine-soaked stone and make me fall into the gutter but at the last moment, I turned around and pissed on the pants of the madman.

Surprised, the anger rising, he gave me a nice right but I had time to dodge by bending down.

Unfortunately for him, Pascal heard his wrist make CRAK against the stone harder than his fist.

My classmate Nathalie, had seen the whole scene and the supervisors arrived, hearing Pascal's cries that I had broken his wrist.

Thanks to the intervention of my friend Nathalie, I was neither punished nor reprimanded.

But Pascal and Daniel had sworn revenge.

The next day, the gang was waiting for me with smiles on their faces, Pascal with his arm in a cast.

Max, the "mad dog" had returned, cured of a psychiatric disorder...or so we thought.

He was nicknamed "MAD MAX Jr." He always had chains on him...and probably a knife or something to cause injury.

His latest find was the sugar block. Fitted between the fingers, it could act like a file or an abrasive wheel, dissolving in water and erasing any trace of wrongdoing.

So they pushed me around and grabbed me by the arms, backwards and hit me in the stomach. I simulated the blows, protected by my coat.

They stopped: "He has had enough. Tomorrow we'll give him an inch...".

But, even though Daniel was two heads taller than me, I stood up, kicked Max in the genitals, who collapsed and Daniel, surprised, didn't look at me, grabbed him by the arm and gave him a palm strike (six times more powerful than a punch) in the ear.

Of course, his hearing aid went into his ear and went out of order, emitting a loud IIII that could be heard on the other side of the yard.

He screamed in pain and the teachers had to remove the batteries to stop the monstrous sound from reaching the middle of his head.

Xavier: You're going to pay for that.

And he jumped on me, only to receive the edge of my hand... which split his glasses in two.

Vulnerable, he got hit in the head with a dictionary and ended up on the floor.

Hubin, with his braces, spat out: "You'll pay for this..." and he didn't finish his sentence, 3 repeated slaps cut his vulgar vocabulary.

All of a sudden, the girls looked at me differently.

Proud as Artaban to have defeated my enemies, I had to face the teachers and I was led in front of the director.

After admonishing me, I accused the supervisor of not doing his job. Several times I called him for help to be left alone and I only defended myself.

On the contrary, the girls defended me, and the principal's last threat fell apart when I told her that because Xavier was the son of the principal, he was allowed to do anything.

So I finished my year and entered a new school.

But the others here were four years older than me. And again, I was in the little ones and the harassment was going to start again.

After an unforgettable vacation with my family, it was the fateful day of the new school year.

The year of all the horrors. The class of horrors, 1B. It was the college Waha..

But also where my older sister was. At least I wasn't alone here and she would introduce me to her friends but, obviously, bullies flirt and my sister was obviously a target, which obviously put me at one against 1600! But I was not afraid.

The worst was Sebastien, a little one full of buttons but very machiavellian. He ran the gangs in the school and had surrounded himself with untouchable goons.

It was a school that had been co-educational for only two years and the teachers, used to the docility of the girls, had no resources left when it came to scolding and controlling male teenagers soaked in hormones and testosterone. Of course, the girls were spectators of all the nonsense they were up to.

First the secret room: The girls had their tongues out for the first time and were often plotted by the understudies.

They had set up a room in the vending machine room with plastic juice trays. They rotated a wall of lockers to close off the room, so that it was unsupervised and the girls could wait for their all.

Slowly, the school was becoming a teenage brothel...

All this orchestrated by Séba...

The big guys, sons of lawyers, ambassadors with diplomatic immunity and him, son of an academic inspector... Even the director feared him... Subsidies at stake...

It was customary to play soccer in the dark in the locker room with a metal trash can.

We made a terrible noise but either the teachers were deaf or stupid. I opted for the second option.

Then, the expeditions in the cellars and boilers....

Then sabotaging the main clock of the school. Even now, nobody has fixed it.

Everything was getting bigger and bigger until something dramatic happened. And that's what happened...

One day, while I was taking the bus home, I had bought a computer and video game magazine in a bookstore. Lost in my reading, moving mechanically towards the bus stop, my magazine was snatched from my hands and ended up in Fabrice's, a kid who always accompanied Sebastien, like a bodyguard. He was dumb but Sebastien did all his homework for him... like a dwarf with a troll... or rather a goblin with an orc.

I jumped up to get my brochure and they gave it back to me page by page, torn up, in confetti.

I wanted to punch but the behemoth had his hand on my head and my arms and feet too short to punch.

I was smoking and red with rage.

Sebastien crushed his gum on my head, ravaging my hair and Fabrice spit a big mollard on my nose and wiped it with what was left of my magazine...

Then, I realized that they had also spit in my hood... Bastards!

The harassment continued.

They put pornographic pictures in my briefcase, they hurt the art teacher by sawing his chair and some girls said it was me but they knew I didn't do anything but didn't dare to say anything.

Until the drama...

They took Joshua, a boy like me, to explore the roof of the building and locked the door.

The kid was screaming and they told him to get out through the vent.

Of course, they didn't care about his head but the guy did it anyway. He went through the wall and found himself on the level of the party room but then it slipped and became vertical.

What was supposed to happen, happened and he reached the ceiling, ten meters above the floor. He was crying for someone to come and free him.

The gang laughed and made a sign to me to cut my throat if I spoke.

But since the week before, they had tapped the fire circuit, the firemen had come 3 times in 3 days, for nothing, to see the students gathered in the playground, thinking it was a fire.

The fourth time, they didn't come anymore, believing in the hoax and the drama happened.

The screw that held the gate in place broke under Joshua's weight and he fell vertically. The gym teacher caught him, but both were seriously injured.

The parents filed a complaint and the principal was replaced by an even more incompetent one. So 2/3 of the students changed schools when half of the bullies were expelled.

But Sebastine was the mastermind, but because of the stupidity of the teachers, they punished those who did the deed but not those who planned it.

Without knowing why, the target of their revenge fell on me.

His mother, who worked in a nuclear physics research center, a cancer care center, was in charge of setting up the radiation therapy machines.

She was working under the orders of Professor Garssou, who was, under the guise of a nuclear physics researcher, one of the seven wise men on the board of directors of the United States' deep state.

In the basement of the laboratory, there was a nuclear reactor that was used for all sorts of experiments.

Sebastian often came back to eat with his mother at the center, not far from the school, only two bus stops away.

He would go and feed the rats that were used as guinea pigs, and he became friends with a chemical technician.

He showed him how to make stink bombs and gave him glass balls with the monstrous liquid.

"One is not enough!" you'll pay Connors!

And went to the storeroom, but he took the wrong desk and rummaged through the drawers... of Garssou.

"Ah... here's another one! a nice stinking ball. ..."

The next day, with a vicious and mischievous look in his eyes, he had befriended one of my cousins, just as stupid as Fabrice.

The structure of the square staircase, was that it formed a kind of well going from the seventh floor to the ground floor, at the entrance of the gym where the girls and boys in sports clothes were waiting in rows to be able to enter the gym.

From time to time, a peach or an apple would cross the 6 floors and end up as an explosive mashed potato, ending up on the girls' legs and arms. By the time they reacted, the culprit was far away each time.

Always in a logic of indiscipline, the school had not taken the lesson of the previous drama to its proper measure.

Having brought firecrackers with him, he put them on the drain in a disused room at the end of a corridor.

On the other side of the pipes, the lab.

Some girls were doing chemistry experiments while Mr. Sebastien was hanging out in the corridors.

Fabrice took a trash can, a wet rag wrapped around the manhole and Sebastian lit the pirate firecracker.

The trash can was put on the rag, acting as a seal, and Fabrice climbed on it

"Let's see if the firecracker will lift you up"

The explosion was dull and nothing was heard, except screams and shouts in the next room.

The contents of the siphons in the chemistry sinks had been blown out and had come up violently through the strainer, spraying a green, blackish liquid from past chemistry experiments.

The students were full of stains and the teachers did not report it. They thought it was a gas pocket that had ignited in the pipes of the room.

Séba was bent over laughing with Fabrice.

Then came my "last" normal afternoon.

During this time, Garssou noticed that someone had entered his office, and, by reflex, he looked in a frigolite box.

He turned pale and urgently called his subordinates and Pierre, the pet shop manager.

"WHO CAME INTO MY OFFICE?

Obviously, no one knew what he was talking about but he pointed to a glass capsule.

It looked like a surprise Kinder egg...

"I'm not kidding, it's a matter of life and death... I'm not going to send anyone away but I need to know..."

Peter remembered giving a capsule of H2S to make stink bombs...

"I gave one to Sebastian, to make stink bombs but it didn't have a red line or a skull and crossbones on it..."

Garssou... Yes, it's the kid, he admitted to taking more... SHIT! his parents, the school, the police.... VIIITE!

Pierre: "I don't understand!???"

Garssou: "It's nitroglycerin.... We need it as a treatment for throat cancer!"

They called the college and the police, who went into battle and ambulances with them.

But too late... I was in the hallway and saw my older sister waving at me from the other side. I didn't see the glass egg fall and I was splashed with the stink ball.

I moved aside a little, out of reflex, which probably saved my life when the second one came.

There was a violent flash and I didn't remember anything.

I was floating, unconscious.