Yes, yes it is true. It happened a little while ago, not last week, but the week before. Please DO NOT get the picture in you head that I took a Spanish kid's arm over my knee and snapped it like a toothpick, that is NOT, let me repeat NOT what happened. Wait! Before you start running and screaming give me a chance to justify myself!
It was Tuesday. Not sweltering hot nor bone freezing cold. I have to say it was normal weather, not for Spain mind you, but just normal for winteryness, but the beauty of the non-cold-nor-hot day was uined by Fransico. A very annoying Spanish boy, that takes joy (hey, it rimes!) in pushing and hitting everyone in the universe. Well, Fransico had class in the classroom right next to mine and took pleasure in pushing me and slapping me on the back. I managed to ignore him teh first MILLIONS of times but then he came and punched me with all of his might right on my back. Let me tell you one thing reader, IT HURT! I am not just trying to justify my selfs to make me the person that was not of any sort of violent in your eyes that you once saw, for I am guilty I must admit, but this fellow had to continue punching me and punching me in the same spot on my back. I was fed up with it. I went to go push him back and he ran outside. as he tried to climb the stairs, now on the first one, I pushed him, hard.
He toppled down on to the stairs, once up he lifted at his wrist, looked at it, and started screaming. He normally is a cry baby so I did not do anything, thinking he was screaming over the small scrape I saw on his arm or he was only joking. I only believed the ear piercing cries when I saw the HUGE lump forming on his upper wrist. I then realized this lump was not only swelling but also the bone sticking up out of place. No one else had seen, so I could have made a run for it, as a typical Spaniard would have done, but the thought didn't even cross my mind. I was too caught up in teh thoughts that floated, or more like stabbed, around in my brain. What have I done? What will they do to me? Where do I take him? You see we have no nurses in my school. As in zero, zilch, nada. The high pitched wails became more real and much louder as I headed him towards the inside door, they seemed to echo off of the concrete walls. As I went through the hallways, guiding the victim, I will never forget the faces of those we passed. Some stared, others gasped, but one girl just watched us past her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
I took him to the principal's office, where else should I have taken him? As he was there he attacked millions of teacher with his wails. I just remember his tone as he told them his name, up, down, up, down. CRAZY!!!!!!!!! I will never forget the conversation that a secretary had with Fransico's mom. ''We can take him to the hospital if you want ma'am............. No, no I don't think that it is broken (the swelling had gone down by then, my dad says that he probably pulled on it by accident and popped it back in place).............. No, no he is fine, he has really calmed down now. (wails in the background).
Reader, I can not tell you how terrible I felt. I was trembling, my heart was pounding, I thought that I was going to get expelled or something. But the teachers were there when I asked for forgivness three millions of times. trust me, I felt TERRIBLE!!! I think they saw my pain. Several times Fransico asked for his 'Mama', Persomally I don't blame him, that had to hurt.
He has a cast now, and still won't stop bugging me. Today I got a foil ball in my face, but I am ignoring him. I think that both he and I have learned valuable lessons. Me, NEVER PLAY FIGHT WITH ANYONE!!!! That is actaully something that I have been working on for a while and asked God to help me stop. God works in strange ways. Fransisco, NEVER mess with the 'Americana'.
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