Me Talk Dirty One Day

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Me Talk Dirty One Day

Illustration: Juergen Dsouza/ Arré

I

saw the big black boot coming at me and turned away just in time. The kick landed on the back of my head. The next one split my nose. I tried to roll away, scrambling on all fours but was pulled by my sweater and made to stand. A hard punch to my solar plexus delivered me to the ground again. The other boys stood at a respectful distance. The library was dark and cold and utterly quiet except for the crackling fire, the laboured breathing of my 12th grade attacker, and my pathetic eighth-grade sobs.

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