You Can't Break Her

Chapter seven: part two | January

January 1997
New school, grade two
Bayhollow, Ontario

The class was dimly lit. It was another new school, making a total of three in less than a year. I wondered what I could get away with in these halls, what could I do to my unsuspecting classmates?

I sat at a desk and the teacher introduced me. I said nothing. I watched the others, waiting for them to say something to me. I hoped for a side eye or even a glance, I would shred them to bits if I could.

I had grown past my yearning for contact and attention and was settling nicely into a demonic-child phase. I expected the absolute worst in every situation and if it didn't materialize, I would instigate it.

The bell rang for recess. I put on my coat and pretended to be busy in my backpack.

"Hurry or you'll miss recess," Mrs Coolidge said as she left the classroom.

I glanced over the peaceful space. It was a quiet and nonthreatening area, that thought gave me a warm comforting sensation in my chest.

My heart began to race. My fingers latched onto the edges of my coat and dug at the stitching. My muscles tightened.

Something isn't right.

Goosebumps disturbed every inch of my flesh from my scalp to my shins. I tore off my jacket and hugged my arms around myself.

It's too calm. I'm in trouble.

I squeezed my eyes shut and kneeled down to the ground. I stayed like that until I was numb. My anxiety nuzzled back inside of me. I rose and rolled my wrists and ankles to alleviate the tension. I noticed the backpacks, each was hung beneath a name tag.

"What's in here?" I step forward to the closest one and searched through it. I looked through another two before I found a Lunchable.

I needed it. I ripped it open and crammed every piece into my mouth at the same time. I disposed of the evidence in the girls bathroom trash can. I put my coat back on and the bell to end recess rang.

I was caught and punished accordingly.

January 1997
School
Bayhollow, Ontario

The lunch bell rang and the school was no longer quiet. The lunch monitor, a male grade eight student, watched us monkey around and make loud obnoxious noises. Some read at their desks while other students chose to eat and wait for the next bell.

I picked up a meter stick and started swinging it at other students. Our monitor called in a teacher after I poked him in the eye with the ruler. I would not listen to them in the beginning, instead I banged chalk brushes together in another girls face, Renee, fully aware that she was allergic and they had to take her to the office after. The teacher talked me into putting the stick down and I was reprimanded.