Spring 2018

Worth It

Mitchell Dolman

 

The bell rang.

My eyes rolled as I watched

My classmates, one by one,

Slam their chairs into the desks

And scurry toward the door, until

I was the last one remaining.

Since I was last outside, the field was busy

The football game had already begun.

With a clear path to the field

I made my way, or so I thought.

Whats-his-name stepped in my path,

He was slightly taller than me, with

Dirty blonde hair, spiked with way

Too much gel.

I turned my head hoping he wouldn’t see me

But he did. A thirteen-year-old in

Elementary school was a headscratcher.

He thought he owned the place. “Fatty”

Seemed to be his favorite word.

Not sure he knew any others.

These encounters were getting old

the times of hiding my face in my hands were

over

His hand gripped my shoulder

And shoved me back,

I clenched my palms,

He pushed me again.

My teeth grinded together,

I stood up tall,

Cocked my arm, and

swung my fist,

Hitting him in the nose, he fell

To the ground, I kept swinging,

The momentum caused me to

Fall too.

On the ground I

Continued to hit him.

He cried

I laughed.

Pulling me off

Ms. Wills yelled,

yanking me by the arm

Into the principal’s office

I went

Where I stayed

For the next two days.

But he never bothered me

Again.

Worth it.

 


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