Finding Copeland

Chapter 4.

I looked around and it was black again. A cold wind brushed against my shoulder and made me turn around, it was the father of the little girl. "I just wanted to keep you both safe, if something had happened to you both because of that woman and her boy I don't know what I'd do" He put his hand up to my cheek "I did this for you, honey" Was this? Was this my father? I remember vaguely of what he looked like when I was little.

"Dad?" He smiled at my words.

"Please get away from him" I heard my voice again, although it was the other me, the older but still younger me. I looked and the younger me displayed a look of fear and uncertainty. We were surrounded by lockers. A bunch of middle school boys surrounded me and Tyler. I remember this; I thought we were both scared but now that I see him now he doesn't look frightened at all. "You've brought your little bitch with you, Tyler" An older boy with tan skin and dark brown hair pushed me into the lockers. This wasn't a memory I had wanted to remember, this was a long time ago and I had placed it in the back of my mind.

Tyler balled up his fists. He stepped forward to the boy and punched him. The boy grabbed the side of his face, "You bastard" He cried out at Tyler. The other boys that were there circled around Tyler. He was backed up into the lockers. All I could do was stand there and watch, what else could I have done? The younger me tried pushing her way through them but she wasn't strong.

The boy with the brown hair that got punched by Tyler wiped away at his face, a red stain on the back of his hand. He looked at the rest of his group of friends "Why don't we teach this punk a lesson?" All of the boys giggled in agreement. One, after another, after another took turns hitting poor Tyler. All I could do was watch, but the younger me squeezed into two of the boys in the circle and got into it. With all my younger self's strength I smacked the brown haired boy, he didn't even move an inch. I could feel my heart sink as I knew what was coming back at me. The brown haired boy's face turned gruesome as his right hand hit me and left a red sting on my face and an ever burning sensation of embarrassment. The brown haired boy looked at Tyler, who was now trying to get to me. The boy pointed his wicked finger at Tyler "You should've left your dog home".

The circle of boys stepped back a little, one noise making their heads all snap in one direction. More sounds, they all ran after the sounds came closer. This left distinct quietness; well, about as quiet as this could've gotten.

I remember now.

I had closed these memories as a time lapse of a long time ago, I try to think that we weren't those poor kids sitting by those lockers. No one helped us. Like I didn't help him.

"We were just messin' around! You know, that's what kids do. Right?" The brown haired boy, he looks just as helpless as I in that moment. He takes a step forward and grabs my hand "I promise Miss, we don't truly mean harm. We just play rough". Rough is one word to describe it. Those boys were more than just rough housing, they were being cruel. The boy let go of my hand and shadowed away into the darkness.  All these memories are shadows of my past. Why are younger children so mean? Sadly I know this isn't where the pain ends.