This boys story. The day before the end!

We had always known poverty and become very good at adapting. My sisters and I always went to school together, at least we did in elementary. We had worked out a routine for necessity and built our lives around what we needed most. We were all very early risers and for good reason. We were served breakfast every morning we were in school. A wonderful breakfast that I’m sure the school had no idea how wonderful it was to us. That came with milk, juice with fruit and choice of cold items or what ever hot choices they had for the day. They had two things that I had never seen before. Milk and cereal in the most amazing boxes. I would save the best boxes of cereal like they were collectibles, because to me they were. Sadly they never lasted long before I or someone else in the house would eat them. I never had a hot breakfast like the one I did at my elementary school. To me it was as nice and classy as I thought there was at 6 years old. It was the best meal we would have all day and by the next morning our hunger would motivate us to do it all over again. It was paid for by the state and honestly to me at the time it felt like a privilege.

We did not have food in the cupboards most of the time and when we did, it was what welfare provided. We did not get to buy much real food from the grocery stores like you can today. Most of it if anyone remembers was no name, no packaging products that were made without color or taste. The cereal was always toasted oats that still tasted like the field and the milk was instant dried that had a taste all its own no matter what you did to it. It would never mix completely and always had little chunks. I only had real milk a few times and it was a true privilege when I did. The milk that I knew, was in a white box and you had to mix it with water. I tried anything and everything to make it taste like milk and it never came close. I would not try again for at least a month until I believed once again that I could make it taste like milk. I would get up on a Saturday and try until I realized the same thing all over again. There was no way possible to make that stuff taste like milk or anything pleasant at all. The rest of the items we would get would be things we didn’t use like, potatoes and vegetables or anything you had to make from scratch. We did not do scratch and there weren’t a lot of alternatives then, especially when you have no money.

We had another reason for being first in the breakfast line. My older sister had a nemesis and she too wanted that first place in the breakfast line. It was one of the reasons I had raced down the hill and crashed, to be first in line. We could not let her beat us or anyone for that matter. The two reasons together were enough to make school extremely important to us and maybe there is a lesson in that? We had only lost once because we were desperate. I can’t tell you how important that meal was to us and we depended on it for 3 years. We had created and lived in a world that revolved around one simple thing, a meal.

It was just another day and we were there first like always. The weather was nice and that was a blessing because we would always get there before the sun came up. The winters in South Dakota were bone chilling and the winds howled. We were never ever properly dressed or prepared so it was always a choice of eating or freezing. We chose eating every time. It was nice to be there and just smell the food cooking. I loved to see the pans full of scrambled eggs and sausage or pancakes. I always took more than I needed and I’m sure the girls did too. We never sat together as our association ended at the door. They would not be seen with me at anytime in school. They had there own issues to deal with I guess.

I had sat down and started eating by myself as usual and I was looking forward to the rest of the day. I watched another kid at the next table as a bully was pushing him around and taking what he wanted from the kids tray. I did not know the bully as I was in second grade and he was a sixth grader. I watched as he completely demeaned and assaulted the kid. The kid getting pushed around was older than me but, I didn’t know him. I would always sit silently and pray that the bully would leave me alone. He always did and I always felt like someone was watching over me.

I stayed silent and waited for him to move on like he always did. If he did, then you were safe for the rest of breakfast. I didn’t hear anything and I wanted to hear him move on. I sat there and just closed my eyes as I heard nothing, I slowly looked over and hoped he wasn’t looking. He was staring right at me! I looked away and hoped he had not noticed me looking. I looked again and this time when I caught his eye he started calling me out. He came over, looked me up and down and then the bullying began. He reached in and went for my food. I slapped his hand and he quickly stood back. I thought to myself, “I don’t know why I just did that”? Was it instinct, hunger or was it the anger that still burned inside me. Whatever it was, I stood my ground. In all my fear and praying that he would leave me alone it was finally my turn. He snarled that I better not do that again or I would regret it. He went for my food again and this time almost got my banana before I knocked it out of his hand. At this point he was embarrassed and the situation had turned on him. I would like to say this is the moral of the story. Wasn’t that a happy ending and lesson? That was not the case and it was only the beginning. He immediately went into a rage and started ranting at the top of his lungs. It was probably a good thing as the kitchen staff and cafeteria monitor heard him and were on the situation immediately. They defused it and sent him out of the cafeteria. As he left he looked at us all and said, he would be waiting for me so I better not leave that cafeteria. He was not new to the staff and was a constant drain on them and there resources. He was the large overgrown kid that we all know, big head, tall, heavy body with oversized extremities. His family had money and I’m sure influence over the school as well as there options when dealing with him.

I sat there for a long while, just at a lost. For what had just happened and what I was going to do? No one was offering me any advice let alone consoling me. Everyone was afraid of him and his family. My sisters even left me alone to sit there and feel all the whispering eyes and my own panic. I was starting to get so embarrassed that my fear was evolving into anger and courage. I was getting more and more upset that no one was there for me and how I was letting this bully make me feel. The adrenaline took over and all of the sudden, I was not afraid. I had enough and not just of the bullying. I had enough of feeling embarrassed and feeling like I had no control or power. This was a sixth grader and the biggest one in school! I said nothing to anyone, got off of the bench and headed straight for the door. I did not stop or turn to look at anyone. I went out to the school yard and I didn’t have to look far for him. He was waiting for me as promised and pissed to beat all hell.

It seemed like in an instance the entire school was surrounding us both. When he knew he had everyone’s attention he started to insult and demean me again. He called me and my family trailer park trash and dirty kids. I will be the first to admit I did not bath often. I even went a whole month one time and only proud of it then. It got silent and I waited for him to do something. I stared at him without emotion and I know when I looked him in the eye I could sense his questioning of my sanity and at that moment, I charged. I did not think, I did not breathe and I did not feel time or space. I hit him running with such force that I knocked him off of his big fat ass and I proceeded to beat the living hell out of him. I punched him in his face so many times that I couldn’t even see skin anymore. I did not stop until someone pulled me off of him. There was no sound and it felt like time stood still as I looked up and into all those faces as they looked at me with mouths dropped. I could not tell if they were afraid of me or if they were in awe of it all.

I cannot ever remember seeing him after that. I was instantly rocketed to celebrity status among my schoolmates. I was a hero to all grades and staff alike. Most importantly to me, to my older sister who was in the fifth grade. The staff went out of there way to make me feel there support. I was the most popular kid in my school and I relished every moment. I looked forward to going to school after that like nothing else. My life had changed, I was a new man and maybe I should do good things and help people. It made me feel so good just for all the kids he had pummeled and robbed. I could see a future with me being a leader and doing great things. It was two days later and all I could see was smooth sailing ahead and things getting better for my family. School was getting better everyday and I was making plans for the school year and what I was going to do next. Everyone was inviting me over and asking me out to different events. I had never been invited over to anyone’s house and I had never eaten at a restaurant. I was so excited and finally happy with me and my place in line but then, we moved that night! I had no idea that was the day before the end.

pg. 7

1. 

   Thank you Sebastian for taking the time!

2. 

   As a short story writer, this post truly moved me. The portrayal struggles and hardships faced by the protagonist at…

3. 

   Thank you Lp Morgan, I do hope to see you again!

4. 

   I like this one. Alot!  Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android

5. 

   I am very glad you decided to come along and I hope you will not be disappointed.) Thank you!