April 13th 1784
It is a cold day and I know why. School is almost here and that means so are my bullies.Why do I have to go? Their torture is enough for any man to take.My dad, Linnaeus says, but I am not of man, but that does not help. I am 12 years old though I wish I was older. So then, I would not require to go to school. I want a private tutor, but my dad said tutors are for wimps. I would happily call myself a wimp than to face those brutes once more. I told my father that but it is no use, he will not listen. Said I must face them like a true warrior. What if I don’t want to be warrior? Then can I see a tutor? But no, alas I must be a warrior. For my dad. Lord Linnaeus ‘the lavish‘ Bontrovla, 6th heir to Valion. And me, just some wimp.. I am his one and true male heir but it doesn’t help that I am of mixed blood. My mother was a human, despicable creatures. At least.. That’s what my dad said, except he loved one of those “despicable creatures” but I don’t mention that, he’d only get in a rage. Sometimes I don’t get him but I suppose that’s what fathers are like, for you.
Till the next time, ye faithful journal
He stared at his diary and wished that Funlka Huntress and Boldagdler Ripnerr (his bullies) were ill and not at school but he knew that would not be the case. He stood up from his seat and put on his jacket. Valion was a beautiful world, it never snowed and the plants grew as big as houses. He lived in urban Valion, just near the rural towns, in a massive white mansion. The colour white was only painted in houses of enormous wealth. Perhaps, royals, judges, politicians and socialites. Yes, he was of vast wealth. But no money in the world could stop his bullies. How prejudiced they were, discriminating him because of his mother. Oh, how he hated her, his mother, even though he never even knew of her. She was the reason he was sick of life, he was sick of school. Two things that were a privilege in these times. Oh how he knew, so many people with no education, none whatsoever. How lucky they were, he thought. He could hear his father calling for him and ran down the stairs. “How many times do I have to ask you to not do that!” his father exclaimed. “Not to do what?” Robert asked innocently. “You know perfectly well what I mean. Clomping down the stairs. It’s disgusting behaviour.” “So, I suppose one should be punished for that behaviour?” “Yes, one should!” “Oh. I see.. I’ll not go to school then..” Robert said walking away. “Come back here at once! Don’t think you’re so clever. Your punishment is to go to the Ripnerr’s and do extra school time with a tutor after school.” “No, not the Ripnerr’s. Please I’ll do better. I’ll even go up the stairs and down without making a noise. Please papa, just not the Ripnerr’s.” His son looked at him pleadingly. “This conversation is not up for discussion! But fair enough.. If you don’t make the slightest sound down the stairs, then yes. You won’t have to go.” And with that, his son went up and down the stairs not making the slightest whisper. “Good enough, now hurry up and leave. You’ll be late for school.” “Okay papa, thank you.” Robert responded. He climbed into the back of the car and headed for school. As soon as they reached the front gates, he could feel his hands getting clammier and his forehead sweating up. He could see Boldagdler and Funlka waiting for him, hitting their fists against their palms. He gulped and opened the door, he was hesitant but climbed out and walked in their direction. “I must face them like a warrior, I must face them like a warrior.” He muttered repeatedly. “Well well, if it isn’t Robert bubo-pants.” “Admirable humour, but I think where old enough to not play these silly little games, don’t you?” “Silly games? Well.. I suppose your right, bubo-pants. Alright, no more games.” He smiled maliciously. “Get him!” The boys grabbed Robert and turned him into bacon using a Fantormnous charm. They then put him on plate named ‘Professor Sweetcheek’s Dinner’ and walked off laughing. It was only till night time that Sweetcheeks smelt a faint lingering smell of potions, that he realised his food was compromised and so whisked his wand and hummed an anti-potions spell to re-form Robert. Last time, the boys turned Robert into a football and kicked him in their soccer pitch. How awful that was! He had to spend 2 weeks in the infirmary and the other time he spent a month after they used him as a javelin. Still, at least he could miss school when he was in hospital. The boys would always be let off, some way or another. Maybe their parents donated a hefty sum of money to the library or other means like that. It was repulsive they could get away with such sordid behaviour and Ripnerr was the worst of them all. He was the ring-leader operating and controlling his minions like little pathetic puppets. “He has so much power and abuses it all for fun. Heck, even his parents encouraged him, said it’s good to keep people in line. They sicken me. I know I’ll never do a thing like that. Why papa, why are they allowed to do this?” “I don’t know son, I don’t know… They own a quarter of Valion’s economy. They can do whatever they like.” “But, surely the people deserve better.” “Hush, now boy. Don’t talk about your cousins this way. After all they’re family.” Robert forgot about that. Ripnerr was so intent in destroying Robert because of that reason. Said he poisoned the blood-line. What a terrible creature, but a powerful one all the same…