At the age of twelve, I left my small elementary school two blocks from my house in South Bend, Indiana and started the worst year of my educational career: Seventh Grade. Jefferson Junior High was huge, angry, dirty, full of strangers and so awful it shut down the following year. Every day after lunch everyone walked out to the “yard’ and watched people beat the shit out of each other. Going to the bathroom between classes involved the fear of getting a knife pulled on you, getting raped, or more likely, having some crazy bitch or asshole mentally torture you.

I hadn’t gotten my period yet. I had no breasts. Nevertheless, I discovered eyeliner and tight pink clothing. I made friends with girls who could protect me. I gave my lunch money to Lenora, who was a big strong black girl and after that no one messed with me.

I also discovered AC/DC. I sneered at my older sister’s Rolling Stones records. It was 1980 and ‘Back in Black’ had just been released. ‘Hells Bells’ was the first song on that record. It begins with the dark echo of a bell ringing in the silence. Then the deep guitar riff comes in, gaining speed so slowly it made me wet. “You get into evil, you’re a friend of mine... cause if God’s on the left, than I’m sticking to the right…I’ve got my bell, I’m gonna take you to Hell…”

I started smoking. I started really drinking. Stealing liquor. Smoking weed. I bought all their old records with my babysitting money. ‘Highway to Hell’, with Angus wearing devil horns on the cover. ‘High Voltage’, with the letters on the back, one which I stared at over and over again, a heart drawn with nipples on it. Then came ‘Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’. I drew pictures of Angus and hung them next to my bed. I was in love. I had found myself. I knew what I was, why I was different. I knew what I wanted.

My mother hated me. My older sister poured water on my copy of ‘Back in Black’, warping it, ruining it. She did it again, with my next copy. “You’re possessed by the devil,” she said and I think she meant it. More importantly, I believed it.

Paula Bomer grew up in South Bend Indiana and lives in New York. Her book of short stories, BABY, is forthcoming in 2008 by Impetus Press. Her writing has appeared in The Mississippi Review online, Open City, Fiction, Word Riot, Storyglossia, Nerve and elsewhere.

© 2008 Laura Hird All rights reserved.