On the night of my 12th birthday I punched a boy in the face for calling me a stupid whore.Kevin was my best friend Shelley's older brother and picked on us a lot. He was a freshman in high school, the sort of dorky kid who liked to hang out with younger kids because it made him feel smart and strong; we were in middle school. I was laughing at a joke or something else, and he leaned over and whispered "stupid whore" into my ear, whispered it so no one else could hear, whispered it like a verdict. It's a little fuzzy now, but I'm pretty sure I recoiled. I remember being angry like a white flash, being temporarily blinded by it. And remember very distinctly the feeling of my balled-up fist hitting his flesh, the sound it made when it connected. It was the first time I ever hit someone in anger.
Even though I had to act like I was sorry when my mother apologized to his, I wasn't sorry. I wasn't sorry when his mom came to pick them up because his nose wouldn't stop bleeding. I wasn't sorry the next day at the bus stop when I saw I'd given him a black eye. I think I even smirked at him. And other than having an adult perspective of feeling sorry for him (because he was probably teased mercilessly for being a weenie), I'm still not sorry.
* I'm starting with #11 because I'm pretty sure I've broken all but one of the original commandments.
** If the universe is guided by an omniscient and/or monotheistic presence and if we really are sentient puppets and if there really is a heaven and a hell...
Oh, I don't know. I mean, he deserved some form of retribution, and seeing as how you were a child on the verge of preteen, and your prefrontal cortex wasn't completely developed yet, I think maybe the punishment fit the crime.
ReplyDeleteWords can be incredibly hurtful, more so, even, than a busted nose.
Let me guess which pissed you off more, the stupid part or the whore part? So the message here would be "don't call me a stupid whore unless you want a black eye"?
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you hit him.
I think you're in the clear on this one.
ReplyDeleteerm... which commandment HAVEN'T you broken then?
ReplyDeleteYou're in the clear. I checked.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in 4th grade, a 7th grade boy kept hitting me on the head with his HUGE math book - I suppose to look cool in front of the older girls. (??)
ReplyDeleteI got my dad to teach me how to "punch like a guy", and the next time the boy hit me on the head, I sucker punched him in the eye.
The first funny part about this is that the kid's dad was a cop, and he called my dad during dinner to find out if I (a 4th grade GIRL) really gave his son a black eye on the bus.
The second funny part about this is that both the kid I punched and I ended up becoming cops in the same department, neighboring precincts, and would see each other, in passing, at work.
We always smiled and said hello in the friendliest of manners...
I feel like a weight has been lifted...confession accomplished. Thanks for the backup. I wish you'd been there at my 12th birthday party.
ReplyDeleteWhich commandment? I've always had trouble with #6. Just can't do it. All the others, no prob.
Marcheline - great story. You know he couldn't look at you without thinking, "that's the little girl who hit me."
I'm pretty sure that won't send you to Hell.
ReplyDeleteIf you really want to go to Hell, hang out with me. I've got a suite reserved.