What am I made of?

Every now and then I happen to wonder- What am I made of? When was the last time I had a real good ass kicking? I guess the last time I got punched in the eye was when I was in 7th grade. I was sitting at the lunch room table hanging out with the "cool kids", or at least hanging near them, when this older punk guy, literally the type that wore one of those black leather jackets and mullet, started calling me names out of the blue, I told him to "Shut Up!" and he kind of slapped me on the side of my head, and then I pushed him, and then WHAM!!! A hard punch to the right eye. It came out of no where and it was experienced. I remember the initial shock, the blackness, I wasn't knocked out, I just had my eyes shut for what seemed like forever, I literally could not believe that he had hit me in the eye. The fight was quickly broken up, and we were both sent to AEP, which meant 3 days of in school suspension.

Oh the INJUSTICE!!!

To add insult to injury, gas on the fire, salt to the wounds, I had to talk to our principal who I thought was prejudiced in some form or fashion, but probably was not the case, it just seemed like it at the time because he listened to my side of the story and did nothing to vindicate me. "All I did was a little pushing!!!"

So all of this happened early in the morning right before the Thanksgiving Holidays, I remember it sooo well. My mom came up the the school to check on me, she was wearing this beautiful brown fur coat and she looked so pretty, like an angel coming to rescue me. Also, you must remember, I graduated school at the young age of 17, my senior year I was 16 until December, so in the 7th grade in November I was only 11, the kid who hit me was 13- so there was a big age difference, but we were about the same size. The principal would not let me go home with my mom. He said that I should go ahead and get my punishment over before the Holidays, it was a Monday, and it was mandatory that I pay the 3 day price and "why not go ahead and get it over with". I hated that man so much at the time. His perfect white life, his high and mighty seat, his never having to deal with kids calling him Michael Jackson, or Prince... but none of that mattered.

Cruel and Unusual Punishment

So, my eye swelled up and it looked like I had a small eggplant sitting on the side of my face by the end of the day. I was a big baby about all of it and spent a large part of the day crying in AEP. The AEP room had about 4 kids in it, the building was an old "Bus Barn" a large garage where they used to work on buses. The room contained those large oversized heaters that lit up bright orange and put out burning heat as long as you were within 6 feet of them. They were mounted to the wall, so I really needed to be on a rotisserie so that my right side could be evenly cooked with my left, but no, it was left to freeze while I buried my head on my desk and wished that death would consume me right then and there.

The bully was in the room too. So not only does my eye hurt, but so does my pride...

I don't know how I made it through those tough three days, but I did. I remember going to see Grandma that Thursday for Thanksgiving. She asked me what happened to my eye- all the relatives were curious, and why shouldn't they be? How often do you really see an eleven year old with a black eye? It's freakin fascinating. I loved being the center of all that attention...

So now I am 28, 17 years later, and if it happened all over again, how would I react? Would I come back swinging? Would I turn into a blithering ball of jello? Would I be so enraged from all the years of pent up frustration and other cheek turning that I would finally snap and kill the person?

The truth is, I don't know. But would someone please come punch me in the face so I can find out?