First Offense

Sometime after my ordeal with the babysitter’s husband, I went to school and started a fight with another kid. I didn’t mean to. I know it started with him being a typical boy, making fun of my bushy ass hair. I remember getting so mad and knowing that he was older I still let my slick mouth hit the wind. All the kids heard me call him a word that should never be said. It was a racial slur that even to this day I could not understand why I called him that name. I just knew he was older than me and was being a shitty kid. For whatever reason, he loved to call me ugly and that I needed to go home and comb my hair. Which was strange to me cause his hair was just as textured as mine. I knew he could kick my ass. It was the reason I threw a rock at him for making fun of me. I remember saying, “FUCK YOU” and then the word. I hate to admit I said this but I did and I can’t take it back. I ran as fast as I can to the girl’s bathroom and waited it out until the bell rang. After that, there was another kid from our community that walked me home, every day. He said he was told he had to walk me home cause I was scared and others were scared that this kid would come back with his own friends and deal way more damage than my poor mother could handle. His name was King and he made me feel safe. He was my friend or at least I was like the annoying little sister he had to walk home to make sure I was safe. I didn’t realize my mouth and actions caused so much drama for others. His family was always such a comfort to be around. We used to walk every day and compare stories about what we did over the weekend. It would get competitive, between us. He would try to get a leg up on me, about his weekend being way more fun than anything I could ever be doing on the weekend. I remember telling him of an experience I had over the weekend, then getting spanked by my mother. I yelled back at her and got locked into my room for an entire day. She was tired of dealing with the drama of me being me.