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The Fight of My Life
I sat in the dark and wondered when this was going to end. I cringed and curled up in a ball on the cold, tiled, floor. My heart was racing and the pain from the kick that stormed into my stomach was intensifying. Salted tears streamed down my face as I lay silent, face down on the ground. Drip…Drip…Drip… They were collecting in a puddle on the floor.
“Get up and give me your money!”
“I don’t have any.”
The grasp of her strong hands was tight. She wasn’t letting go. I tried to scream but she was choking me. Nothing was coming out. My knees buckled and she dropped me and stomped on my head. Struggling for air, I crawled into the bathroom stall and tried to lock the door but she was too quick. She dragged me out by my hair and punched me over and over in my chest.
My head was pounding and I wanted to die. I knew for sure that slowly, I was dying a gruesome, brutal, painful death. The pain shot through my body and my toes cramped in my black school shoes. I reached in my pocket and tried to get the $3 I had, but she slapped my hand away and ripped the money from the safety pin.
“You dirty liar. You said you didn’t have any money.”
She put her foot on my throat and put all her weight on it. In between sobs and gasps for air, I pleaded, “Please, please. You’re hurting me.”
Drip…Drip…Drip….Drip…Drip…Drip…Drip…The puddle was growing larger and larger. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were closed and I tried to imagine being in my mother’s arms and listening to her singing. The memory was fading. The bathroom was my personal grave. I knew I would never make it out alive. I thought to myself ‘This is the end.’ Smash! She drove her foot into the right side of my mouth. Crack! I tasted blood. My tooth was broken. I coughed and blood spilled onto the cold, hard, tiled, floor.
“I'm bleeding! You broke my tooth! Stop! I can’t breathe!” I wiped my mouth and showed her the blood. “Please!!! Please!! Stop!!”
She froze. It was extremely dark and I couldn’t see the look of fear in her bloodshot eyes, but I felt it. She dragged me into the bathroom stall and locked the door. She cleaned the floor, took my money, turned on the light in the bathroom and ran back to class like nothing happened.
I sobbed in pain. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. The rage that boiled in my veins was worse than it had ever been before. The world was spinning around me and everything was blurry. My face was swollen and bloody. I lifted my aching hand and gently placed it on my face. Between my salty tears and the constant flow of blood that oozed from my head, panic set in. ‘How am I going to cover this up? What if someone comes in here and sees me?’ I was afraid.
Quickly, I stumbled to the sink and washed my face. I put a clump of tissue in my mouth to make the blood stop. I began to tuck in my shirt and fix my clothes when my chest began to throb. I lifted my shirt and saw my purple and black chest. There were bruises everywhere. My ribs hurt to the touch. I thought I heard someone coming so I ran into the bathroom stall and closed the door and stood on top of the toilet. I was terrified. ‘She’s coming back to get me. She’s gonna kill me. Jesus please help me.’ No one came in and just to be sure I looked over the stall door.
While I was trying to climb down, Plop! My foot fell into the toilet soaking my sock and shoe. I fell down and hit my head on the wall. My body ached and I just wanted to die. Click. Someone turned off the lights. Tears streaming down my face, I sat in the dark and wondered when this was going to end.
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