This chapter is dedicated to James P. Thank you so much for your ongoing support!
When I came back into the classroom I was smiling again, ready to rejoin the class and see what they were going to do next.
"Awwww, it's a little baby!" Sadie jeered, pointing as I returned. "I bet it's wearing diapers. Big baby! Everybody knows you're a baby now, you don't need to hide it!" I blushed crimson, but did my best to ignore the big meanie. I could find something to play with, and I could wait for the teacher. There was no point shouting or getting angry, it would never make anything better.
But I couldn't just walk past and go back to playing with the army men from the toy chest, because there was somebody grabbing my arms now, and somebody else had a hand on my ankle. They poked at my diaper, and a loud voice was telling the world that I was wearing one, as more hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me to the ground. They were just children, I should have known that they couldn't hurt me, but I also knew that I couldn't use my real strength against them. And they were saying every hurtful thing they could think of, calling me every name under the sun. Of course I hated any reference to the diaper, but somehow the hands tugging at my shirt were worse; telling me that I would never fit in here, and treating me like some kind of monster. I tried to cover my face and curl up into a ball, but these bullies only grew more confident when they saw that I wasn't going to fight back, and between the clamour of voices and an unknown number of assailants, it was hard to keep fear from holding me in place.
And then the tone of the shouting changed. Somebody yelled in surprise, and I could hear the rattle of toys crashing together nearby. I didn't know what was happening, but I fent the hand on my shoulder let go. I opened my eyes again, and saw one of the bigger boys standing over me, a hand like a pack of sausages reaching out to slap. And then something plastic hit him across the chest again; a red train, with a little bell inside it ringing chaotically.
I could see the grown-ups running closer as well, but there were too many steps between us, and the floor was littered with toys and with kids playing. They couldn't get here before Renard hit me, but my brother was already right here.
"Dun hurt Tiss!" he yelled, the nervousness that had been building up over the last couple of months completely gone. He smacked the bigger boy with his train again, before driving the point home by declaring: "Mine!"
Then the teacher's assistants were all here at once, pulling the two boys apart and separating everyone from their toys. There was a babble of voices, all talking at cross-purposes. But it wasn't long before Miss MacGregor's hand reached up to help me to my feet.
"Are you okay?" she said. "Did you see what happened?"
"They..." I stammered, struggling to put the chaotic maelstrom of memories into some kind of order. "They pushed me over, and pulled my clothes." I realised then that one of the shoulder straps on my shortalls was unbuttoned, and my shirt had started to come untucked. I should have been able to tell myself it was just some childish rough-and-tumble, and that it was nothing to worry about. But to my emotional centre, it was like I was still a small child, and I didn't know how to cope with anything like that. I needed someone to comfort me, and I didn't know how to make the fear go away.
"Come on," the teacher said. "Let's get you straightened up." And she took me into one of the side rooms, like a little office. There was a nurse here, checking me for bruises and making sure that I wasn't actually hurt, which distracted me from the fighting for a couple of minutes. I didn't even realise that I was still crying until I looked up and saw myself in a mirror. A tiny incident had gotten to me so much, and I didn't know how to get over it now.
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