It's Been 10 Years...

Since I was a sophomore in high school. Friday, Jan 9, 1999 is a day I will never forget.

As I stepped onto the school bus at the end of the school day, I could tell it was not going to be a good ride home. First of all, I had been shoved to the end of the line. Typical for me. Last one to do anything. Second, I could not find a place to sit. Every seat had 3 small children in it or two teens. There seemed to be about 30 extra students on the bus this night. As I was trying to find a seat to sit in, I heard students yelling at me to sit down and could feel someone unzip my backpack. Of course, the female bus driver was not doing anything about this, why would she considering she had began pulling out of the school parking lot before everyone (I) were seated?

The bus was loud, and I saw a young boy grabbing things out of my backpack and start throwing them around the bus. He was around 12 years old I think. I looked to my foster sister for help, and she was sitting with a younger girl, a cousin of the boy throwing my things around the bus. To no avail, she just kinda shrugged and looked away. Next thing I know someone grabbed my Taz stocking cap off my head and started playing keep away with that. I lunged for it as students were yelling at me to "Sit down!" Pissed with it all, I yelled "SHUT UP!" as loud as I could. The driver was still oblivious to what was going on 5 feet behind her and continued on down the road.

Next thing I know my face met a fist. 3 rapid strikes to the left side of my face, just above my eye, cutting my glasses into my face and sending me to my knees. Two children jump out of the way and I buckle forward in the seat, as this young man continues to send blows to the back of my head. 12-14 strikes to the back of my head and 3 to the front of my face before the bus driver stopped and yelled at him to sit down. She FINALLY stopped and pulled over. We were less than half a mile from the high school, right in front of the airport. The high school is across the street from the airport.

I did not get up. The bus manager came out and removed this boy from the school bus, and the driver continued on her way as if nothing happened. When it came time for us to transfer busses, my foster sister tapped me on the neck and I left without a word to anyone. When we got home, she ran into the house ahead of me.

Mom practically met me at the door: ice pack in one hand, telephone in the other. She called the bus manager (he is an old family friend who has known me practically since I was born) and the sheriff's department. A deputy came out and took the report and since it was a juvenile case said restitution had to go through Social Services and the juvenile system. We wanted him to pay for the damages to my glasses and a riped backpack and the calculator that was being thrown around the bus by his cousin. Then the bus manager called and claimed the young man told him he attacked me because I took HIS hat off his head and started throwing it around the bus. So... he gets kicked off the school bus for 3 days. I get transferred to a different bus route, luckily there were 3 that went past our house. I also remember that it was determined there were over 75 students on the bus that night with capacity for only 65.

But actually, that's not the best part. Monday rolls around, when I have to go back to school and face the evil jeers of my peers. I don't remember which period I had phys ed but we shared the gym with the varsity football coaches class. I was standing near the bleachers when Klaas walks by and asks about my black and blue face. I told him I was attacked on the school bus on Friday night. When he asked by who and I told him, he smiled and stated this student was in my teacher's 1st period gym class, when he also shared the gym with a senior class, most of who were varsity football players. He smirked and said that he would take care of it.

The next day by lunch, all I had heard about was how this guy was cornered in the gym by the varsity football team, apparently hung up by his underwear or dangled in some sort of way, and given the third degree about beating up on women.

A few weeks later I was walking to the softball field for practice and I heard footsteps running up behind me. I stop walking and it's the guy who attacked me and his best friend, who was a neighbor of mine. I used to babysit his siblings. He asked me how my eye was and said he was hoping to have the full restitution within a couple weeks since he was working with his mom afterschool to earn what he needed to pay back. He also apologized for what he did and when I asked him why he did it, he thought I was yelling at his sister to shut up. I just happened to be looking at her when I yelled it because she was sitting with my foster sister. Being a protective older brother, I can understand that, I have one also.

As did the tables turn... by Easter MY brother had moved in next door to this guy. He never told me what he did to him, all he said was that I didn't have to worry about him anymore. I told him I was never concerned about him but apaprently it had something to do with the entire trailer park ganging up on him... I have no idea.

However, with hanging out in that area with my brother throughout the summer, this guy and I did happen to become friends. Not close, but we hung out and did things together throughout the summer and it was the best summer of my life amid my teen years.

Yet the scars remain. His fist is imprinted into the left side of my head. My skull is permanently dented due to a big brother doing what he thought he had to do: protect his lil sis.