A pretty girl.
Teacher’s pet.
But she’s mean.
She took your toy.
You want to hurt her.
Get her back.
Burn her.
She’s mean
But teacher loves her.
She’s smiling. Giggling.
Playing with your toy.
You hate her.
It’s yours.
Burn her.
She’s playing.
Laughing.
Looking,
Right at you.
Laughing with your toy.
Pull hair.
Hit her.
As hard as you can. Hit.
Throw sand. Hit her.
Fight her.
Hurt.
She cries.
Runs to teacher.
“Help,” she cries. “He hit me.”
And teacher shakes her head.
“You’re bad,” teacher yells.
“Bad. Go.
Sit in the corner.”
You’re banished.
You hate her.
You sit.
And watch.
She’s playing. To spite you.
Playing with your toy.
She’s flaunting.
You hate her.
Hate teacher.
Hate watching.
With your toy.
Yours.
Kill her.
You watch.
She’s laughing.
She smiles directly at you.
Hate her. Your toy.
You’ll get it back.
Kill her.
Teacher’s back.
Freedom?
Only if you promise to be good.
“But she’s laughing—”
“Do you promise?”
“But it’s mine”
“Promise?”
“Yeah but—”
“PROMISE”
“Okay, fine.”
You promise.
Now you’re running.
She still has it.
She’s laughing. It’s yours.
Faster.
You hate her.
You’ll take it.
It’s yours.
Running.
You hate her.
Keep going.
Hate her.
Still playing.
You hate her.
With your toy.
Hate her.
Running. Almost there.
Hate her.
Hate her.
Hate her Hate Her HATE HER.
Then pain.
Your toe.
You stubbed it,
Tripped.
You’re falling, landing.
A throbbing, freezing pain.
Confused, you look.
To your feet.
You tripped
Over what?
Your toy.
Right there.
Where you left it.
On the floor.
