I just got back from seeing the movie Kick Ass. The little girl in the film reminded me of myself in either first or second grade – I can’t remember which.
My parent’s bought me an awesome black leather jacket. I felt utterly cool wearing it. I would look at myself in my bedroom mirror making tough girl gesture’s, turning up my collar, turning down my collar, putting on one sparkly white glove like Michael Jackson and doing the moon walk.
I worked up such an image in my head of being a tough girl, that I taken the new persona to school along with my new jacket.
I decided to roam the playground alone that day. Playing house or hop-scotch was no longer cool enough for me. I was a big girl now – a rebel.
There was this semi-slow girl in my class. I’m pretty sure her name was Jennifer. She cried everyday in school because she didn’t want to be there, and she would wear the same white sweater everyday. I felt sorry for her.
The same day I decided to roam the playground alone with my cool girl jacket, was the same day all my classmates thought it would be fun to stand in a circle around Jennifer and push her back and forth.
Where were the teacher’s? I have no idea.
So I hopped in the center of the circle and each time someone pushed Jennifer, I would push them right back. No one dared to push me. I most likely had a crazy look in my eye.
This went on for a while until the pushing stopped and all the kids backed away from me. I thought I did it, I thought I won. I really am awesome!
But then some kid from the circle pointed to my nose and said, “You’re bleeding.”
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and saw blood. I started crying at the very first sight of it. My blood!
I tell this story to my friends a lot just in case they forgotten it. If I heard this story being told to me, I would think it was BS. A little rebel girl of seven years old taking on her whole class single-handed to defend a girl she never once spoke to?
It’s pretty impressive indeed, and all true. There was a girl there in my class, Liz. When the fighting was over, she taken me to the teacher and then she walked me to the nurse, explaining to everyone what happened. I still see Liz. She’s even a facebook friend. She may be the only one that can vouch for me that this story actually taken place. unfortunately for me, Liz and I started to not get along in high school. So even if she did remember, she may say it never happened, but who know’s.
Even though I loved that black leather jacket, that was the last day I remember wearing it. The only day ever wearing it actually. It’s like it served it’s purpose and then disappeared. It traveled to the next little rebel girl who needed to defend the timid and the meek.
This day is woven into my brain as the proudest moment of my life. I’ve done many good deeds, but nothing seems to top this one. Crying or no crying, I was still a little hero.
I need to find a picture of me wearing that black leather jacket doing the moon walk. I’m sure I have it somewhere, but I have to look. I’ll add it to the post as soon as I find it.
I’m still searching for me wearing the black leather jacket, but I at least came across one with me and my bro doing a Michael Jackson impression.