Time out with the Golden Hair

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.

 

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