Status: it be donee betches
Bruised
October 1997
October 1997
“I can’t believe we’re only just starting Peewee’s. I wanna play for the NHL!” Aubree squealed with excitement as she and Bobby walked back to the Hamilton’s car from the Wells Fargo Center. Mr. Hamilton chuckled at his daughter.
Bobby and Aubree had never been allowed to go to Flyers games before. But now that they were 10 both of their parents’ had agreed they were old enough to handle the aggressiveness of the hockey fans. The pair had been so excited that they had painted their faces bright orange and both donned child size Flyer’s jerseys.
The game had been everything Aubree and Bobby had ever hoped for. There had been singing, chanting, fighting, and yelling, but most of all there was hockey.
“The NHL is only boys, Bree,” Bobby said softly, not wanting to hurt his friend’s feelings.
“I’m on a team of only boys now,” Aubree pointed out.
Bobby had to admit that she was right. If there was any girl out there that could survive a team of all boys, it was Aubree. Over the years the two of them had excelled greatly in hockey, in fact, Aubree was better than the majority of the boys they played with, but the boys on the team still picked on her often for being a girl. Bobby was always right by her side, keeping his promise to Coach Sullivan, ready to destroy anyone who tried to mess with his friend.
The ride home was pretty long but Aubree talked right through it. Most people found it obnoxious that Aubree couldn’t keep her mouth shut, but Bobby liked it. Aubree didn’t talk about annoying things like shopping or nail polish like most of the girls at school; instead she talked about a new skateboard trick she had learned or debating what type of motorcycle was truly the greatest. Bobby’s mother called Aubree a tomboy, and secretly he wished that there were more girls like his best friend.
When the car stopped in front of Bobby’s out he thanked Mr. Hamilton for everything. “Later, Bree,” he said and they quickly executed their secret handshake.
As the car drove away Aubree opened her window. “BYEEEEE BOBBBBBBBYYYYY!” she yelled in an odd voice and then he heard her laugh to herself and roll up the window again.
“What a weirdo,” Bobby said to no one and smiled to himself as he walked towards his front door.
He walked into his house and the lights were still on even though it was pretty late at night. “HELLO?” Bobby called out, but no one answered.
He walked into the family room, shocked to find it completely destroyed. Bobby began to worry. “MOM? DAD?” he yelled, still no answer.
Making his way into the kitchen he froze in the doorway. His mother was lying on the floor, bleeding. She wasn’t moving. She looked really hurt. Bobby grabbed the phone. His fingers were shaking as he hit 9-1-1.
†††
It had been a week since the Flyers game and Aubree could not find Bobby anywhere. She walked into practice, disappointed when she found Bobby’s usual stall empty.
“Hey Aubree,” a malicious voice filled her ears, “where’s your little boyfriend?”
Aubree spun around to face the source of the voice she knew all too well. “He isn’t my boyfriend, Jake,” she hissed, “and I don’t know, so leave me alone!”
Jake laughed, “Ya hear that boys,” he called to their teammates, “wittle Aubwee is all awone.” He made a pouty face at her, then smiled wickedly. “I think it’s time we finally taught you a lesson.”
Aubree let out a scream as 17 boys pounced on her.
“I can’t believe we’re only just starting Peewee’s. I wanna play for the NHL!” Aubree squealed with excitement as she and Bobby walked back to the Hamilton’s car from the Wells Fargo Center. Mr. Hamilton chuckled at his daughter.
Bobby and Aubree had never been allowed to go to Flyers games before. But now that they were 10 both of their parents’ had agreed they were old enough to handle the aggressiveness of the hockey fans. The pair had been so excited that they had painted their faces bright orange and both donned child size Flyer’s jerseys.
The game had been everything Aubree and Bobby had ever hoped for. There had been singing, chanting, fighting, and yelling, but most of all there was hockey.
“The NHL is only boys, Bree,” Bobby said softly, not wanting to hurt his friend’s feelings.
“I’m on a team of only boys now,” Aubree pointed out.
Bobby had to admit that she was right. If there was any girl out there that could survive a team of all boys, it was Aubree. Over the years the two of them had excelled greatly in hockey, in fact, Aubree was better than the majority of the boys they played with, but the boys on the team still picked on her often for being a girl. Bobby was always right by her side, keeping his promise to Coach Sullivan, ready to destroy anyone who tried to mess with his friend.
The ride home was pretty long but Aubree talked right through it. Most people found it obnoxious that Aubree couldn’t keep her mouth shut, but Bobby liked it. Aubree didn’t talk about annoying things like shopping or nail polish like most of the girls at school; instead she talked about a new skateboard trick she had learned or debating what type of motorcycle was truly the greatest. Bobby’s mother called Aubree a tomboy, and secretly he wished that there were more girls like his best friend.
When the car stopped in front of Bobby’s out he thanked Mr. Hamilton for everything. “Later, Bree,” he said and they quickly executed their secret handshake.
As the car drove away Aubree opened her window. “BYEEEEE BOBBBBBBBYYYYY!” she yelled in an odd voice and then he heard her laugh to herself and roll up the window again.
“What a weirdo,” Bobby said to no one and smiled to himself as he walked towards his front door.
He walked into his house and the lights were still on even though it was pretty late at night. “HELLO?” Bobby called out, but no one answered.
He walked into the family room, shocked to find it completely destroyed. Bobby began to worry. “MOM? DAD?” he yelled, still no answer.
Making his way into the kitchen he froze in the doorway. His mother was lying on the floor, bleeding. She wasn’t moving. She looked really hurt. Bobby grabbed the phone. His fingers were shaking as he hit 9-1-1.
†††
It had been a week since the Flyers game and Aubree could not find Bobby anywhere. She walked into practice, disappointed when she found Bobby’s usual stall empty.
“Hey Aubree,” a malicious voice filled her ears, “where’s your little boyfriend?”
Aubree spun around to face the source of the voice she knew all too well. “He isn’t my boyfriend, Jake,” she hissed, “and I don’t know, so leave me alone!”
Jake laughed, “Ya hear that boys,” he called to their teammates, “wittle Aubwee is all awone.” He made a pouty face at her, then smiled wickedly. “I think it’s time we finally taught you a lesson.”
Aubree let out a scream as 17 boys pounced on her.