So, after that things weren't so bad for a while. Jackson was no longer really nice, but he wasn't often blatantly cruel either. i hung on to my hope that i could make him love me again. i redoubled my efforts to do everything exactly the way he wanted me to.Before i knew it, i was completely cut off from anyone but Jackson. i had no real friends. Every boy in school was scared to talk to me without Jackson's approval, because he would completely snap and get violent with them, me, and whoever else happened to be in the vicinity. Once he forced a fellow athlete to suck his cock because he caught the two of us comparing homework notes when he came out of the locker room after practice.By late October, i was only Jackson's property. That was how every kid in school viewed me. It was how he viewed me. It was how i viewed me. So then began the beatings. The first time he hit me, i had found out he had slept with another girl. He was having football practice and i was practicing twirling my rifle with the band. He saw the girl come over to me and must have seen me start to cry. After our respective practices i asked him if it was true. He replied by punching me twice in the face. And, i learned another lesson, no questions. i saw how similar this rule was to my Granddaddy's rules, and i attempted to revert to that behavior. Trying to please him. It didn't. i was lifeless. i was a whore, i liked doing those dirty things. No matter what i did, nothing was right. Everything i did was instantly wrong, and he had to instruct me on my behavior. Usually with fist. But, sometimes, he was more creative.Another time i was stupid enough to get caught speaking with another boy without Jackson's permission, he drug me into the locker room. It was still half full of boys changing out of their football uniforms and he made me blow him while they all looked on. The next time he picked a handful of other boys for me to blow as well. Then joked about it all over school. Including to their girlfriends. Girls i had been friends with since i was five years old would pass me in the hall and hiss "whore." Rumors and insults flew. i learned to keep my head down. i didn't want to see the hostility of the girls, or the sly knowing looks of the boys. i was almost totally alone. Even the few friends who stuck by me were completely unsympathetic to my plight. They viewed it as i was getting about what i wanted and deserved, but they would put up with me out of charity or something. At least that's how i thought of it.
