I Hurt You Because I Loved You

A long time ago when I was around 11 years old, I had this boy named "Mikey" on my bus ride home from school, taunting me and pulling my book bag straps. He wouldn't stop. I was fuming, but also at the verge of crying too. I really couldn't figure out his motive, but in my mind, I plotted and schemed his impending demise, because his stop also happened to be my stop. I made sure to get off the bus before him, so I could sucker punch him right in the face. And I did. This was totally out of character for me - I wasn't a bully or retaliated so violently before, but this time was different. He fell down, but quickly got right back up. My mother was at the bus stop waiting for me, holding her face screaming, "Stop!" He ran up to me and hit me right in the head, as I kept punching him, left-right-left-right. I was so angry that I started to pick up a ton of shale that was on the driveway and started throwing stones at him. Talk about barbaric. The kid ran ...