She was eight. She was doodling on her writing pad again. Her third grade teacher caught her and scolded her for not paying attention. The bell rang. It was the end of the school day. Her teacher, Ms. Hathaway, told her to stay late.
"Finish those equations, you're not leaving until you do," she said. She was working on math. Subtraction. Twenty minutes passed. She handed in her paper. Her teacher looked at her, looked at the paper and said, "O. K., looks like you finished. You can go now, but I want you to try harder at paying attention. You are always somewhere else."
She went into the school yard. The friend she usually walked home with had already left. She was alone. It was on overcast day. Then she noticed that there were two older boys on a swing set in the school yard. They were the only ones around, she didn't know them. They were "big kids", maybe in the sixth grade.
She started walking home. She felt a drop of rain on her head. It wasn't really coming down yet, but she figured she better hurry. As she walked by the swing set, the two boys got off the swings and approached her, halting her progress. This happened suddenly. She was scared. The two boys looked at each other and laughed, but they said nothing. She looked at them silently. Then, the smaller of the two boys kicked her in the stomach. Still they said nothing, and she didn't either. The two boys ran off.
She fell over, holding her stomach, and started crying. She cried for a while, over a minute. The rain started coming down harder. When the pain had gone, she stood up and ran home. She told noone.