DIsclaimer: I own no rights to any member of KoRn. All the other characters and places I made up.
NOTE: This part is told in the 80's and this is my own story of how KoRN became what they are now. So things may be different. This story is the first of many to come... Remember to keep coming to see if it has been updated. ENJOY!
~EMAIL ME if you wish to take this story and put it on your site!~
Today was my first day at Highland High School. I was a senior there. I was told by my neighbours who were in their fifty's that it was, in their own words 'the bottom of the heap in Bakersfield education'. Nevertheless, my mother enrolled me into it. I lived with my 'butch' mother during the week in a low-income housing neighbourhood called Blatsville, only minutes away from Bakersfield. She was never the type of mother to take me to the beauty salon and get our nails done if that helps to explain why I call her butch. Whereas on the weekends, I lived with my father. He was the highest paid adult I knew an he still went around saying there was no money in the bank. Such lies I was told. That was why I never really believed in much.
Anyway, getting back to it. My name is Veruca and my hair is shoulder lenthed black, I have blue eyes and always wear my trusty glasses. It was lunch time and I was sitting in the overcrowded seating area observing the new crowd of people that I would spend this year with when I have lunch. It was quite easy to detect who were the popular ones and who weren't. As I looked around the table that I was sitting at, I saw a person who looked to be THE school's outcast. He had shoulder lengthed hair, and the most weird way of dressing himself. 'That's probably why people tease him' I though to myself as I ate my cheese sandwich. As I ate my lunch I often glanced back at him and smiled once or twice to him. But everytime I did, he just looked away.
After I had finished eating, I felt like going around and exploring the grounds. But as I got up to leave, two jocks from a table from the other side of the room wearing their Bakersfield jackets ran towards the weird yet slightly cute outcast with a bucket.
When they reached him, the two of them tipped the bucket over the outcast. It looked to be water and flour that was poured over him. As soon as the mess was all over him, everyone in the room started to laugh and giggle at the outcast. Except for a few people at the table in which I sat at and myself, we were the only people who didn't laugh. All I felt was simpathy for him, and I guessed the others did too. With the laughter rising, the outcast ran away and so did a few others.
The two jocks just stood there laughing at him as he ran away. I wanted to go help. And with that, I too ran after him. But as I passed the jocks, I heard them call the outcast words like ''fag' and 'loser'. To be honest, I felt like stopping in my tracks and smacking them in their faces. But it was only my first day and I had to pace myself, plus I wanted to go find this boy.
Running down the dark green painted halls I couldn't find him or the others. Remembering that the principal had gaven me a map of this place incase I did get lost, I pulled it out of my bag and looked for the male toilets. With the help of my map, I found them not long after. But when I entered, all I could hear was someone whimpering and some soft words of encouragement. It all hit me when I saw the outcast huddled in a ball in the corner of the room and what it looked to be like his friends telling him things like 'everything is okay'. But when the boy who was huddled in the corner saw me, he stopped whimpering. That's when his friends looked at me.
"What do you want? To point and laugh? Well go ahead," he said to me. And with that his friends looked away from me and back to him and he went back into his previous postition of sitting in a huddled ball. 'What was I to say?' I thought to myself' 'well, he goes nothing'.
"All I wanted to do was to see if you were okay," I said and then started to leave when I heard him talk to me. "Thanks," was all he said and then the bell went for the next lesson to start. With map in hand, I made my way to my next class, Art. The classroom door was open when I got there and most of the student desks were been occupied. Walking slowly to the back, I looked at my new surroundings. All the walls were covered with artwork on corkboards.
I was so fasniated with them that when I tool my seat in the back row, I looked at them with amazment. I came back down to earth so to speak when my name was called on the roll by the art teacher. "Veruca Blacking?" "Here!" I said. With that, I placed my bag onto the desk infront of me and took out all of my art stationery. When the roll was finished been called, the teacher set out the task for the day. But instead of telling us it and askiing if we needed help, she wrote it on the board and then left the room. 'Take a piece of canvas and express your feeling on it' was all it said. "Ok," I said sarcasticly to myself. 'Ha, so THIS is why the neighbours called this school "the bottom of the heap in Bakersfield education". I can now see why,' I thought as I walked to the front desk and picked up a piece of white canvas.
Straight away, I went to the paints. I love to play with it, what can I say, I'm a preschooler in disguise. When I sat back down, I started to go nuts with the paints. But not as nuts as the person beside me. Hard and loud scratches came from the person beside me's canvas. I looked over to see what was happening.
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