Bad Times

David Heeres Bad Times
Feb 8, 2007

It was a wonderful sunny day. The day was going to be great. I woke up and went to school. There was a young chap that I didn’t real know or care to get to know. We were both waiting after the bell to get in to our grade 4 classes when he started to swing his back pack at me. I got so aggravated that I started to swing back, we where full out fighting like wild hyenas. This went on for a while when all of a sudden I felt a pain like someone was stabbing me. I put my hand to my head and took it off and it was full of blood, which was running down my arm ever so slowly. After a few moments, I gathered what happened. I fell to the ground, screaming and crying my eyes out. The kids ran as it was life or death event to the office to get help and in a few moments there was medical attention around me they were trying to stop the bleeding. After what seemed a life time they did. For the rest of the day I was really dizzy and didn’t know what was going on, I stayed at the school, but I don’t know why. Apparently I thought I was tuff. I had to hold a big band aid to my head for the rest of the day and it really stank for some reason, maybe the blood. Subsequently, I found out that there was a hammer in the kid’s bag. Everybody wondered why he had a hammer in his bag, but it was in his bag because the previous day we did a project with a hammer. I was not mad at him, but he kept on saying sorry and it got really annoying. The next day he brought me a box of Smarties. I was so happy he got those for me, that I forgave him.
After that day we came best of friends, and are still to this day. Now I can blame him for why I am in this class. Not really but, I wish. To this day the teacher still remembers what happens and tells her class know at the beginning of the year what may happen and reminds the kids to not have back pack fights.