Memories

Well it seems that I will be going down memory lane again. As I cant avoid it. I have been asking questions regarding how I got here in my life. Where did I develop some of the beliefs that I have, and usually when I get really really quiet a scene will begin to play itself in my mind. My mind starts to recall things in detail and I feel the urge to write. Normally I would write in my at home journal...but here I am.

The place in time- Summer 1989
My age-9.5

The scene-walking home from school with my best friend and a group of her friends.

I always felt like the dark outsider looming over the 'pretty girls' life. I loved my best friend. With all my heart and soul. I loved so hard back then. I loved her and even though she treated me differently when other people were around, I accepted it for what it was. My friend acts weird sometimes. I loved her still. This particular day, I was tagging along when a group of big boys (probably around 8-10 years old) came and started to harrass us, as little boys do. I remember pleading to myself, "Please dont mess with me". Well of course they horsed around with a few of the girls and then one of them came and bumped me. You know the old school bump, to let someone know its about to go down. I remember hoping that someone would come to my defense, how they always did with my best friend. But you know what? Noone did. The guy slapped me SMOOOVE across my face. I am not a fighter by nature. I did not want to fight...even after that. But the heat on my face said...ITS ON! So I began to swing on him, the best my little arms could. He hit me, pushed me, picked me up and tossed me to the ground repeatedly. The entire group of girls and boys made a big circle around us, and all I could hear was their screams. I dont know what they were saying, but I know that noone even tried to help. The boys were being really rough with me and I was scared for my safety. I remember trying to run up on the porch of one of the girls and the boy pulled my legs and dragged my body down the stairs. I just checked for the scar...it finaly faded. I remember wondering what it was about me that made people pick on me. I had popular friends, was nice to pretty much everyone...but out of a group, it was always me. I remember being so embarrased and sad. When they tired of me, I was left to pick up my books, which were spewn all around the yard. I believe someone helped me pick up my books. Where were you while I was getting my ass beat though? Someone also said, "But you held your own..." WTF???

If you are wondering, yes I still hung with them after that. No I dont remember it being talked about, but the shame and embarrasment and un-sureness of my worth that I felt that day still lives in me. I still wonder...What is wrong with me? What kind of scarlet B (for bitch) do I have on my chest? Why would anyone want to hurt me? I love you.