Rip. Out came two strands of golden hair straight from Christopher’s head.
“AHHHHHHH.” His shriek of pain filled me with the type of glee that only a three year old can feel when conquering her arch enemy. I felt the teacher tugging at my arm, pulling me towards the bench away from the action. I had been caught red handed. She told me to sit on the bench until recess ended. She was calling my parents. But I didn’t care. I had done it. I beat him. And I just smiled, knowing that Christopher would never mess with me again.