This B***h (mind my French, I'm sorry)

A Story by Tazz S.H.

Bullying

Okay, let's see....what happened to me this week? I banged my head pretty hard the other day, so for some odd reason I keep thinking Justin Bieber went to jail...

Oh, how did I bang my head? Well, I got into this nasty argument with this chick at school. I was, you know, walking through the hall, trying to get to class on time, when these three chicks, all side by side are taking their freakin' time, laughing mad loud, gold hoop earrings dangling this way and that, smacking their lips on the straws in their Pepsi cans, texting, cursing...you know. >_>

Anyway, I'm kind of of a short kid with a tiny voice, so I'm like, "Excuse me, please."

They just keep on walking and talking, meanwhile here I am, standing, hands full of textbooks, sweat dripping down my face, looking like I'd die on the spot.

Say it a little louder, Tazz? Yeah, I think you should. So I raise my voice a little more UPPITY, "I need to get through, please!"

One of the girls look back at me. Piercing through her lip, pure demon on her face, she scowls. Looks back at her friends, hooting louder.

Okay, let's try the next witch. See what she says.

"Watch out," and try to squeeze past her, but to no avail.

"Girl, hold ON." She raises her hand at me, as if to stop me, and continues walking slower than ever. I consider taking an alternate route to class. Check my watch. One-forty-four. The late bell would ring in two minutes. My teacher would have a fit if I was late. The easiest way would be to go up Staircase A, travel three floors up and make a right to room 456. But I was nowhere near Staircase A. It was up ahead...but these obnoxious girls were blocking my path.

I tap the third girl's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieks and pushes me backward hard, and I land on my face, fazed.

"Hey--" I start to protest. A throb on my head. Pulsing. Aching.

But the girls are long gone. Walking quicker than before. Trying to act as if they never saw me in their life. Hell no. I wasn't going to take that. So what if I was late to class? Those chicks needed to be taught a lesson.

I get up, dust myself off, and stomp towards the one who pushed me.

"Yo." She turns around so fast, her red fiery hair almost whips my face.

"Why'd you push me?"

She sneers. "Girl, I didn't touch you," Hands on her hips, head bobbing side to side. Her friends surround me.

"Yeah, she didn't touch you."

"Why you lyin', shorty?"

All I could see were mouths, erupting in different shapes, O's, D's, E's, all I could hear were their bellows blasting curses, insults away at me, see the color of their lipsticks flashing in the light, feel their hot breath on my throat, and then I felt their hands nudging me. Shoving me lightly this way and that. My eyes started to brim with water. My head began to swim. My vision was fading. And I don't know what happened. All I know is I swooped down, sweeping my legs across their ankles and they were all down. A moment of silence and a breeze from my swift attack before I heard their agonizing complaints. I picked up my bag and flew up Staircase A, briskly, making it just a second before the bell rang into my seat.

"Hola," my Spanish teacher greeted me as I sat, with a refreshed look on my face.