My days at school continued to be a living hell. Each day becoming worse than the next.

I tried everyday to find a reason not to go to school, but everyday my mom would shot the reason down, and tell me to get up and go to school. There wasn’t a good enough reason not to go to school. And everyday I dreaded seeing that campus as I got closer.

One afternoon after classes as my friend, and I walked home from school, my attackers found us on the side of the road, and came after us. I started running, and thought maybe I could out run them, and reach the safety of a group of stores not far away. Along the way, I drop my school books, so I could run that much faster, hopping my friend would pick them up.

I never made it to the stores, and the two boys shoved me into the tall weeds, and preceded to beat and kick me until my face was bloody, and my clothes were torn and I had bruises up and down my arms. My friend Lindale helped me up and we went to his house so I could clean-up.

When I arrived home, my mom was upset, and demanded to know what had happened. When I told her I had gotten into a fight, she told me she would tell my dad when he got home, and I knew what would happen.

That night I got the belt from my dad because I had gotten into a fight after school, and my clothes had been torn up. My mom informed me that we could not afford new clothes at this time, and she would repair my clothes the best she could, but I would have to continue to ware what I had until the end of the school year.

It is always the bullies who take you down.