All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Winter of Punches
Winter is my favorite time of the year. There’s sledding down the death path, making a snowman, having snowball fights, and building forts. I have to say though, 2010’s winter was not my choice of year. Earlier in the year, a boy by the name of David had moved in across the street. His dad belonged in the military, and he had his mom and two older sisters. I soon befriended each person that lived in that house, especially the middle child, Shawna. She was 15, two years older then me, but we could easily relate to each other. David was more of kid I would hang out with when I wanted to go outside and be, well, immature. My other neighbors, Michael, Alex, and Kayla, were always outside in the winter, usually hanging out with me and my two younger sisters. When David came along, it was Michael and David, two best friends, inseparable. It was fine with me, because, they both preferred my house for a place to play. David was annoying, but he grew on me. We built forts, went on the frozen ice, and had snowball fights. Normal kid stuff. Still, I will never forget the day when mom and dad went out on a date. It was freezing outside, and the day started out as usual. We were outside most of the day, and I had to watch my sisters because Mom and Dad went out to eat. Mom was hesitant about leaving us outside, but I assured her everything would be fine and I would take care of my two younger sisters. David was over, along with Michael, Alex, and Kayla. We were in our snow gear, so it was hard to get around, and we were all tired of sledding. David had an idea. He took the carrot from the snowman, and started a game like keep away, or monkey in the middle. David wanted the middle, while Michael and I were the keeper away-ers. The younger girls, along with Alex, went to go work on their fort on the other side of the house. We were tossing the carrot, back and forth, when suddenly David got upset that he had almost caught it, but I stepped in front of him and I caught it. I exclaimed in victory
and did a victory dance. He soon approached me and tried to get the carrot from my clutch, but I would not give it up. He then spit on my brand new jacket, and me, being disgusted, shoved him away from me. I turned my head to wipe the spit off my jacket, and he took a punch to my jaw. I fell to the ground on the ice, and began to cry in fear. It was so unexpected, I was stunned. He punched me over a game, that’s not something people do. Trust me, I would have fought back, but it was a total sucker punch. David stared at me in anger at the ground and continued to kick me and told me,
“YOUR WORTH NOTHING, I HATE YOU,”
repeatedly. The girls then heard him screaming and rushed over, seeing their big sister on the ground, in tears and pain. I moved my jaw, the bones were clicking against each other. Michael ran away with David, to his house. Alex got on the ground, and was comforting me, helping me up. I remember myself tell him,
“I can’t move my jaw, I cant move it.”
Abigail and Emilee, my two sisters, were in horror and began to cry. I got up, and ran inside my house along with my sisters. I had no idea what to do. I paced back and forth in the kitchen, while the girls ran upstairs. I didn’t want to call my parents, they were going on a date. I had to do something. I grabbed the phone and called my friend Patrick. Patrick is like a sincere brother to me, and I had always told him everything before. We had complete trust in each other, and he knew somebody that had been in the same predicament. He answered with a,
“Patrick, I-I, G-got P-punched in in the J-jaw”
“Savannah, calm down, I can’t understand you. Did you say you got punched?”
I tried to stop crying, but I couldn’t.
His voice suddenly became very serious.
“Who punched you.”
“Lock the door.”
I went to the door and locked it.
“Do you have an icepack on your jaw?”
“Yes, now I do,” as I approached the freezer, opened it, and grabbed one.
“Call your parents.”
I hesitated. They were going on a date! I couldn’t remember the last time they had been on one, and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.
“They are driving to Texas Roadhouse. To eat.”
“Call them now.”
He hung up the phone.
I dialed my Dad’s phone number.
He picked up.
“Um, Hi Dad.”
“What’s wrong, your voice is all shaky?”
I told him the whole deal of what happened between David and I.
“I’m coming home, and I’m calling the police right now, hang in there.”
I don’t remember what happened after I hung up with him. The only thing I remember vividly is that it seemed like hours before my parents arrived at the door.
My mom comforted me, asked me what happened, checked me out. There was swelling on my jaw, and it was definitely bruising. The police soon came, and I remember all the basic questions. What, why, how, where, who. The police wanted me to stay inside while he and my father talked. I considered it was if we were going to press charges, and what my dad wanted to happen. I looked out the window from my kitchen, and saw Shawna outside, apologizing for her brother. After my Dad stopped talking to the Police officer, the police officer got in his car and drove across the street to David’s, and went inside their house. I don’t know exactly what happened to David that day, and I really didn’t care to know. I wished this had never happened. My Mom and Dad dropped off my sisters at my neighbor Kira’s, and we went on our way to the hospital. We were there for about 3 hours, and turns out, their was no fracture, but close to a hairline. After that day, I stayed home from school for about 3 days. When I went back, so many questions were fired at me.
“Did you beat him up?”
“Why did he do that?”
“How old was he?”
“Did he get arrested?”
I told each person no to each question, even if no didn’t apply. I didn’t want to talk about it. I know now that this has only made me stronger mentally. This experience has given me more information about how this is real and it happens. You don’t really realize how much it can effect you until it actually happens to you. That why it’s good to talk about, people might be going through this or have gone through it, and need some advice. But, One thing I positively know is...
I don’t regret ever keeping that carrot.
I haven’t talked to Shawna for almost a year.(A year in January) Or in general that Family. I have recently talked to David, and it didn’t really end well. They believe that their son is innocent, and I am the bad one. It’s really hard having neighbors that practically hate you. Getting dirty looks all the time, it’s definitely difficult. My mom tells me although they give me looks, we have to be the kind ones and show an example. I have moved on, although bad dreams still occur, just not as much. I accept the fact that this is going to stay with me for the rest of my life, and I am healing.