Image courtesy of Life in Pictures via Flickr Creative Commons (attribution link)
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That's her, there in the bottom right. Yeah, the little one. I know. Cute, huh? Funny to think about now, I mean, after what's happened.
She had the entire staff wrapped around her tiny little fingers. A good number of the students, too. I mean, usually kids know. They have a sort of vibe for these things. They feel the undercurrents and hear the false notes that slide right under the radar of adults. But she was good. Smooth. Most people never suspected. Heck, I didn't suspect until it was too late.
Yeah, that's me, right down in front clowning with my best friend. That's when I still had both arms. Probably one of the last days that I had two arms, actually.When was this taken? May? Jeez. It might just have been days after this picture. It happened at the May picnic.
I don't know why she hated me. I can't remember any particular incident. I didn't best her at anything. We hardly spoke. I didn't pick on her. I didn't break her heart or beat up her brother or kick her dog or even cheat off of her homework.
I knew she hated me though. It was this palpable thing. Her breathing changed if I came into her view, growing louder, like she had to force the breath through her nose. Her eyes seemed like burning coals. It was creepy.
Still, when she came up behind me on the playground after the last kid had gone and stood there watching me swing, it didn't occur to me that I was in danger. I turned my head to look at her and the rock came down on my head. They found me hours later, dangling from the swingset by one arm tangled in the chains of the swing. They did what they could for me, but, that was the end of my career as a violinist.
No, I don't play the violin, you dolt. It was a joke.
So, am I surprised to hear about the incidents? What do you think?
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