If you were anything, but normal as a kid then you’d know that there was always the one person that would never allow you to forget it. My bully was a boy named Don, i was never sure if it was short for something, or if that was just his name, but that was what everyone called him. Don was my bully, and I didn't understand why.

One day during recess,

“ Hey bat! What are you doing?” Don yelled in the distance. I assumed he was addressing me, but I chose not to answer. “ what? Can you not talk now too?” i felt that maybe if i’d pretended i wasn’t there he’d just get tired and leave me alone. I didn’t know that not talking would get me into more trouble than actually answering him,

“ you little-” the next thing i felt was my body being pushed onto the ground, and six tiny hands hitting me over, and over, “ we don’t want you here! Why don’t you go to some blind school with other freaks like you!”

Who knew such tiny hands could hurt so much, or such tiny mouths could know such hateful things to say. Soon enough my silent torment would end, and this was the day i met my playground hope.

“ leave her alone! She hasn’t done anything to you! Jerk.” being a child with a one track mind, he stopped to justify his anger toward me by asking,

“ why? Do you like you? She can’t even see you. She’s a freak, and no one wants her here.”

“ I want her here, and you can’t make a group choice like that, you poopy head!”

My days at school didn’t get better after that, but it was easier for me to deal with when I had someone to go through with me. Cecilia, and Hope, best friends! Being the naive children we were we thought we’d last forever, but boy, were we ever so wrong.