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Showing posts from April, 2012

Everybody Loves a Good Fight

I’ve gotten into two fights in my life.  I know, hard to believe.  But I can remember them clearly.  One was with Cathy, who lived two doors down from my grandmother’s house.  I was probably around 8 or 9 years old.  Cathy was mean and a thorn in my side.  She was also the only other kid on the block who I could play with.  I don’t know exactly how the fight started, but I can remember the final scene and how it all played out.  I towered over her as she lay on the grass, pinned in a helpless position.  She cried for mercy and I let her go.  She flew home and that was the last time she bullied me.  The other time was in sixth grade.  I was friends with Rosie; at least I thought I was.  She accused me of breaking her compass and told me that she was going to beat me up after school.  I was shaking in my boots the rest of the school day.  I wondered how I could avoid the ordeal.  I wished I had someone that could come to my defense.  When the bell rang, there was no escape.  There were …