No Justice in High School.
2/25/09
I dreamt that I was in highschool again, coming out of the cafeteria after lunch. I took my time leaving, so the halls were pretty cleared. I crossed the hallway and leaned over to get a drink from the water fountain. As I was drinking, both my legs were physically kicked out from under me, and I fell hard to my knees, nearly smashing my face against the metal fountain head.
For a moment I was overcome with rage, imagining what I would do to the one who kicked me, but I let it pass and stood up, my ankle aching where it had been kicked. I looked around and saw only an annoying fat kid, years my younger, the brother of a guy I never got along with. He was laughing at me. As the only person around with the body mass to accomplish what had been done to me, and the interest in seeing it done, not to mention the only person around period, I lunged at him.
He yelped as I grabbed him, and to keep him from getting away I picked him up off the floor. He was fat, but wasn’t as heavy as he looked, I guess. Perhaps rage makes me strong. I told the little bastard what I should do to him, sparing little violent detail as he squirmed and writhed to get away. He didn’t deny that he’d done it or ask me why I was angry at him, so I felt increasingly confident I had the right target.
After a moment, one of the assistant principals came out of a door ans saw us. I put the fat kid down, but kept a grip on him, as the man in the suit demanded that I explain what happened. I did, gladly, as I had been the victim of assault and hadn’t harmed my attacker physically, I was sure he would see things my way. As I explained, the fat kid’s older brother and one of his buddies came over, amused.
I finished my story in a low growl, feeling angry again, informing the assistant principal that what had been done t me would land that kid a night in jail if he’d done it outside. The fat kid’s brother said his friend and he had seen what happened. I foolishly thought that they might back me up. The buddy pointed out that I was wearing all black, and then said he heard the fat kid come over and ask me if I had any jeans, illiciting a violent response from me. I woke up as the kid’s brother gave his explanation, which didn’t support me, worried that I wouldn’t be believed and that the one who kicked me would get away with it.
February 26th, 2009 at 1:32 pm
What a horrible dream- In some ways, that’s worse than a nightmare- When waking from a nightmare, you’re done, it was scary, but it’s passed. With a dream lie this you awake to rage, but no one to direct it towards.
March 12th, 2009 at 2:45 am
I was angry for some time afterwards. I felt impotent and abused. I hope I don’t have to experience anything like that any time soon. I think, though, having had the dream, I may be better able to cope with similar injustice if it occurs in my waking life. Here’s hoping.
- Baalak Nalzar-aung.