One on one, I can sometimes handle myself when a fight starts, but if these three bullies attack me at the same time, I’m toast. I think they know that.
Sometimes, when we are on a thirty -minute recess, the five bells calling us to the cafeteria for lunch saves my ass. Vick and his friends would rather eat than fight. In my case this signifies a respite from these dumb bullies who don’t have the command of the English language I do. I guess I have to learn to live with the bells even though I firmly believe there has got to be a better way. School is hell. My life is quickly turning into a disaster.
God, why are you letting this happen to me? I’m your Messenger – at least I think I am.
This past Saturday there were no bells to save me. I thought I was safe because school was closed and I was taking a shortcut across the schoolyard with my friend Billy to go to the candy store and spend some of my allowance.
Three bullies, who are the bane of my existence, jumped out from behind a garbage disposal bin in back of the school cafeteria, and started pushing me around. They must live here.
I tried to run away too, but I froze in fear. Vick taunted me, saying, “Where you going? How come Mommy let you out of the house?”
Stan pushed me over Don’s outstretched leg, and I found myself flat on my back. The pain creeping over me was a killer. Couldn’t draw a breath. Lungs exploding. When I started to figure out what had happened to me I couldn’t move. I wasn’t functioning. Couldn’t muster the strength to turn over and try to get up. I tried to raise my hands in front of me to protect myself, but I was paralyzed. My muscles tensed reflexively: as I got ready fro the beating I knew was coming. A sense of hopelessness and dread crept over me like a black hole that was sucking my useless body into the ground. Tried to pretend I was somewhere else. Didn’t work. I was in too much pain
Before I could raise my hands or legs to defend myself, Vick, the leader of the pack, jumped on me straddling my thighs, and started smacking me in bridge of my nose with the palm of his right hand, while punching me in the stomach with his left fist. The blows came nonstop. Vick wore a big silver pinky ring. The damn thing split my lip. Blood flowed everywhere. The air whooshed from my lungs. I gasped for breath feeling I was going to pass out. Wishing I did. The warm, salty taste of my own blood, trickling down my upper lip from my nose, and into my mouth, making me nauseous. Wave after wave of crunching pain racked my body. I started coughing and couldn’t stop.
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