It’s nearing the end of the week, and Ms. Greb is late again. My 6th grade Spanish class is in an uproar, climbing on desks, chattering away without regard for the volume of their pre-pubescent voices. I’m sitting quietly in my seat, textbook open to a vocabulary page, trying to commit the Spanish term for bookshelf to memory. (Fun fact: I still don’t know it. Thanks, public school education.)
Zach eyes me from his vantage point across the room. His sight takes in the grandma-style jeans and JC Penny’s shirt, the frizzy unkept hair and metallic green glasses. Something must have snapped inside of him. I glance up, surprised to find him standing across the table from me, all four feet ten of him.
He takes both his hands and places them on the table in front of him, leaning forward until only mere inches separate our faces. “You’re so ugly.” I look down. “And fat! And stupid! You’re not good at anything! You’re a loser! A loser!” This is only a paraphrase of the verbal bashing I took.
Fighting back tears of shame, I keep my eyes fixed at the book in front of me, waiting for it to be over. Ms. Greb walks in, and Zach returns to his seat. The teacher has seen nothing. And now, I feel nothing.
This must have been pretty traumatic for you as sixth grader.
In all honestly, it pretty much ruined my childhood innocence. The thing is, this wasn’t the first time the same kid did this to me. From 2nd-6th grade, it was like the “torment bri” years.
I had a dream last night that Zach tried to join the kickball team I was captain of. I started making these really realistic chipmunk sounds in reply, and then started laughing. Zach looked disheartened.
And then for some reason I was on a horse in a tiny canyon. But that’s another story all together.
Purpose of this?
…
I don’t quite know.
If that Zach is the same Zach that I believe it is, than I would just like EVERYBODY to know that this is the kid that, if memory serves correctly peed at his brother’s birthday party. When he was nine. I had promised not to tell anyone. oops.
By pee, I of course mean in his pants.