"Until what?"

"Six days."

My friends figured it out. Other people that don't know me too well -- and think I'm a psychotic, gun-toting maniac -- hypothesized that I would bomb the school or go on a shooting spree. Add to this the fact that my web page URL had been circulating around school, and suddenly I'm the new antichrist.

Leave it to the school to nail me to a crucifix.

My web site was a humorous look at everything bad. I had sections for sex, violence and foul language, as well as parodies, jokes and cartoons. Some of it was serious, like the essays on school violence. Some of it wasn't serious, like the pornography I censored or the giant rabbit eating the Quake character with a subtitle "Don't do drugs. This could happen to you." Some of it was downright tasteless, like the parodies I created for the "O.J. Simpson knife kit" or the Calvin Klein ad-spoof "Incest."

Day five of the countdown, November 18. The principal called my father into the school for a meeting. He showed my father the web site -- not the whole site, just the parts that made me look really psychotic. According to the principal, the sex section was full frontal nudity and *he* had censored it. He showed him a few other pages, but mainly the sex section. My web site had nothing to do with my birthday countdown, but it was very incriminating when they misrepresented it to my father.

I was called into the office. Suspended, they told me. As I sat in the office, they asked me outlandish questions such as, "Are you a member of any hate groups?" They also made remarks about my choice of dress, which is mostly black.

Fine, I'll take your little suspension.

To this day, no school administrator has come to me and asked, "Matt, what was the countdown all about?" Well, in case you're wondering, I was planning on bringing cake to school. Not a bomb, not a gun --cake. I guess they just don't like cake.

Their joyride isn't done yet -- not by far. They've tasted blood and they want more. The police are called in. They go around interviewing people, most of who are not my friends. Of course the story they get is not in my favor. On Sunday, November 21, they come to interview me.

"Look, I'm not talking to you until my attorney is present," I tell them.

"Alright, I'll call around four tomorrow to find out who he is."

Monday comes and 4 p.m. rolls around. Guess who shows up but none other than my good friends from the Keokuk Police Department, accompanied by the Lee County Sheriff's Office. They've got a court order stating that I am -- and I quote -- "believed to be severely mentally impaired and a possible harm to himself or others." They take me to mental ward at the University of Iowa Hospital in Iowa City.

So I get an all expenses paid trip to a mental ward. Just what I always wanted. Thanks State of Iowa, I'll have to send a Christmas card.

Tuesday, November 23 -- my birthday and also my first day in the mental ward. The doctors want to speak to me. I walk into their office and say, "You know, today is my birthday, I hope I get cake."

"And what do you think will happen if you don't get cake?" he asks.

Not even in the chair, and already he's started the analysis. I think it rather unfair, but oh well, this whole thing is rather unfair. I guess he wanted me to say something like, "I'll have to kill every person in this building until I do." But instead, I reply, "Oh, well. I guess I won't get cake."

Because of Thanksgiving, my hearing isn't until Monday. What do I have to be thankful for? For being taken out of my home? For having to spend my birthday and Thanksgiving away from friends and family? For everyone thinking I'm insane?

Judgement day. I'm transported back to my lovely hometown of Keokuk to stand before the judge. Good news, I'm not insane! Case dismissed.

The school doesn't like that at all. They figured they would keep me locked up in Iowa City and never hear from me again. So they try once more to rid themselves of me. Expulsion is their game, and the rules are downright unfair.

Picture this: a trial complete with prosecutors, defense lawyers, and a court stenographer. However, the school board is the judge, jury, and executioner. Nevermind the fact that their case was lies and hearsay. Nevermind the testimony from my friends and family saying I'm not a violent person. Nevermind the document stating I am not mentally ill. We're facing the school board here, and to not expel me would be saying they were wrong. That's not about to happen, is it?

I lost my case. They expelled me for allegedly promoting fear and concern among the student body by spreading rumors and because my web site had bizarre content and I encouraged others to visit it. Oh well, I guess I get to sleep in.

I haven't been to school since November 18. Where it goes now, I don't know. All I know is this paranoia has to end. Just because a few kids look to violence as a solution for their problems, doesn't mean we're all that way. Ever since Columbine, people have been on edge, looking at every kid wondering if he'll be the next one. Then they bust them, and get their fifteen minutes of fame for cracking down on a problem child before they were a problem.

It's not the games. It's not the music. It's not the TV, the movies, or the Internet. No one listens to us. We've got problems, but no one to tell them to. Kids get picked on at school and they retaliate with guns. Whenever something bad like that goes down, everyone is quick to jump at the easy scapegoats, but too quick to realize that if they had sat down and talked with us about it, the problem might not have blown up like that.

Since I'm already expelled, I guess it's okay to keep encouraging folks to visit my site: http://www.gatecity.com/~hall433/hate