and big metal jungle gyms for us to climb all over, but I’m just not feeling up to it. All I really want is for this day to be over. I just want to go home to my parents. At least I recognize them. At least the furniture is familiar. My mom and dad will talk to me.
I walk over to the swings and sit down. I let out a sigh and watch the other kids run around like they’ve been waiting to do it all day and now they’re finally free. It’s loud and annoying, but I’m pretty sure we only have a few minutes of recess left, so I’m just going to sit here and wait. The swings are right in front of the door we’re going to have to go back into, so I’ll be first in line.
As I wait to hear the bell, out of the corner of my eye, I see a boy running from girl to girl. Every girl he’s around lets out a scream, and then he runs to the next girl. He’s a chubby kid with red hair, wearing blue jeans and a green military jacket like the ones my dad used to wear before they switched them. I scrunch my forehead as I watch this kid run over to another girl and smack her on the butt. The girl screams, and the chubby boys runs to another girl and pulls her hair. He’s just going around tormenting every girl he sees, and I don’t see any teachers around to stop him.
Eventually, the chubby kid sees me. I suddenly feel anxious as he runs in my direction, but my dad taught me to never let a boy touch me in any way I didn’t like. So, when the kid reaches me, I have no plans of letting him get away with smacking me on the butt. I press myself into the seat of the swing so he doesn’t even have a chance.
I don’t recognize this kid from my class, but I probably wouldn’t even if he was my classmate. He stands there for a moment, looking at me with a strange grin, then he walks behind me and tries to smack my back, but I jump up before he can. He tries to run around me again, but I turn around and make sure we stay face to face.
“Stop it,” I say to him, which seems to irritate him.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he responds, before he steps closer to me and tries to pull my hair.
I reach up and smack him on the arm, knocking his hand away. From the sound of the impact and the look on his face, I know it hurt. I may have done it a little harder than I meant to, but I can tell he doesn’t care. He looks angry now.
“That hurt!” he yells, just before he reaches for my hair again.
I turn around and try to walk away from him, but the next thing I know, I’m shoved in the back. I fall forward and land face down in the sand under the swing. When I try to get up, I feel something on my back, then I feel his hands on the back of my head. The chubby boy is sitting on me and pushing my face into the sand.
“Stop it!” I scream, as tears sting my eyes. The pain of my cheek grinding into the sand is too much to take. “Please stop!”
“Shut up,” he responds.
I try to lift my head, but he pushes it back down and now my nose is in the sand and I can’t breathe. I try to scream, but I can’t even open my mouth. I try to breathe, but I snort sand instead. I feel panicked, and I’m terrified, but only for a second.
Suddenly, the weight on my head and back is lifted off me. I hear the thud of a person hitting the ground, followed by a yelp of pain. When I raise my head, I see the chubby boy on the ground looking up at someone standing over him. He has his back to me, but I can tell he’s bigger than the chubby boy. He’s wearing black pants and a black, long-sleeved shirt, and he has short black hair. The chubby kid looks up at him like he’s scared to death, and he doesn’t say a word as the kid turns around to face me.