Everyone could sense something was different at playtime that day; the air held a the knifepoint tension of restlessness above us, as if to drop it at any minute. As a Year 1, I stuck to my assorted area and hovered, ears straining, around casual acquaintances, desperate not to appear alone to the rest of the school. It was winter and the usual raucous symphony of the children, like being submersed in a jungle, today did not echo around the playground. Smog lay like an ominous warning or a covering for criminal actions that might get you sent to the headmaster.

Through the leaden fog, Alan started to walk towards me. My heart began to beat faster, Alan was trouble. A necklace of violent actions decorated his file in the front office and he wore them with pride. Alan once was famed to have said that he behaved like he did because he didn’t like school. Well, there he was bearing down towards me; I was the chosen target. As if I had suddenly contracted a hideous, communicable disease, the people nearby subtly drifted away and turned their backs. 

When Alan was standing in front of me, I could see his stale yellow teeth and cracked lips stretched into a manic grin. BOOM! Pain hummed from my nose; the point of impact. Then THUMP! I hit the tarmac and my head whiplashed onto the floor with a sickening crack. Ears ringing, I brought my hand to my nose and rubbed them together to feel the slippery blood that oozed between them. As I clambered back into a standing position, my head rang with dizzying noise. Teachers huddled in clumps whispered among them, sympathizing with me and smiling wanly at me. But Alan was already headed on his next mission; a bigger target.

The entire school paused when they saw where he was going and gaped, their open mouths hovering in straight lines around the perimeter of the playground. Alan was walked with purpose towards the Year 3 area. Now, this wasn’t the first time Alan had fought with a Year 3 but who could forget the last? I wiped slick snakes of blood from above my eyes lest they block my eyes from the main event. WHOMP! Alan stomped hard on Collins foot, one of the coolest Year 3’s. Collin screamed, piercing my eardrum and waved his hands garishly in the air, calling the attention of the teachers. They ran over to the scene of the crime and linking arms with Collin, marched back into the safety of the school building.

Meanwhile, an unnoticed stream of blood melted from my ear like candlewax.