Forty -three

My head remained on the locker with my hands clutching my clothes tightly. The voices around me were louder and people hadn’t finished laughing, this was fun, so much fun for them. I felt helpless as a hot open debate began on the next row. A debate loud enough for me to hear. People debating what size my panties were and others speculating that I was bright to have poked holes there to breathe.

‘‘Have you noticed that she rarely smells since Vince taught her how to bathe and poke holes in her pants to breathe,’’ a voice said as thunderous laughter followed.

‘‘Has anyone noticed that she dresses like a seventeenth century grandmother or its just me?’’

‘’How did she even recite the whole poem perfectly; something doesn’t add up?’’

The discussions were hot and lively as I sat their quietly.

I lifted my head up to look around and noticed that the bully was missing. Not the bully, almost the whole class was full of bullies, but the chief bully was nowhere to be seen. Was he even their