Getting Physical

The first day back to school is always the hardest.

Especially when you've been hiding in your bed for a week with your mama calling the school everyday and saying,

"No, she's still not better. Yes, she should be back in a couple of days. Yes, I'm taking her to the doctor. Alright, Amy, I'll tell her. Uh-ha, and tell your mama I said to keep herself in the bed."

God, is there anyone that woman DOESN'T know?

"Hey, Kiddo, where ya been?" Lillypad asks as she darts across the hall and I see her eyes widen. "Whoa, new haircut, is this your mom, or is this an expression of freedom and freedom of--hmm, I can't think of anything but expression. Gotta remember to ask--"

But I'm not really listening, I'm staring at the ground as I hear Lillypad growing quiet.

And I'm on the ground and I can hear 'Alissa with an i' laughing.

"Been hidin' out, 'Lis?" she asks, and I find it hard to pick myself up.

"Go away, Alissa." I mouth quietly. "I'm really not in the mood."

"Not in tha mood, huh?" She asks and I can see her sparkling white teeth shining bright in her mouth.

I'd like to bust every single one of them out.

"No. So get off." I say as I smack at her shoe and look up to Lillypad. "Help me out here, Lil. Hand me my backpack, we're gonna be late."

But her eyes are wide and she shakes her head 'no'.

"Hand. Me. The. Bag." I say through my teeth and I can see that Lillypad might even be afraid of me now.

"Okay."

"Look, Bitch," Alissa with an i, says, and I can hear the irritation of being ignored in her voice.

"No, you look, 'Bitch'," I say as I stand up straight and look her dead in the eyes.

Don't be afraid.

Don't be afraid.

Shit, I'm afraid.

"Excuse me?" she says and she pushes on my shoulder.

I feel myself begin to back down and I can't say anymore.

And then I do.

"You heard me, Alissa. Back off."

I push her back.

Jesus Christ, if I wasn't sure about God, I sure as Hell am now, because he's gonna be the only one that can save my ass on this one.

Alissa with an i stares at me, as if I have just kicked a puppy.

Or a Great Dane that's about to eat my face.

I see her swing and surprisingly I dodge it, I pull back and hit her clean in the side of her face.

The blank hallways suddenly become flooded with kids and me and Alissa with a i are swinging at eachother and I feel a swift smack to my ear.

But it's not Alissa with an i, it's Tracy McDonald and I can feel a kick to my back as I hit the ground.

"Don't fight back, Alyssa, go into the fetal position!" Lillypad yells as she turns and runs.

I thought she had deserted me a long time ago.

But this time I'm not curling up, not again, I'm not hiding anymore.

I stand up quickly and shove Tracy down onto the ground.

And Alissa with an i is next.

She does not see my coming and I hit her hard, and I can not stop myself this time.

I land a kick in her side and it's so hard, I can feel her rib crack.

But now, I'm in control, and she is not, and I can't seem to stop myself.

There are two more kicks, one to her collarbone and one to the side of her face.

I am in control and I like it.

So I keep kicking.

Her chest.

Her legs.

Even her face.

And then someone has my arms and is yelling to stop, but I can't, because I am in control now.

She is crying and spitting blood on the floor from her busted lip and I see a fragment of her tooth come out.

I was in control.

And I loved it.

Or did I?

The guilt begins to set in and I can not believe that I did that to another person.

But I was in control.

Wasn't I?...