It was a normal eighth grade day for me as I stood in front of a row of lockers, which looked to be painted over a hundred times, resembling an old rusted light shade of blue that I'd begun to get used to. I felt as if I walked those halls, lined with those lockers, more than I'd walked the halls of my own house. I was in routine mode as I turned the dial on the locker I called my own. I thought in my head, and probably even whispered to myself, the numbers as I turn the lock right three times to 12, then left, past 12 once, to 37, then back to the right, to 25. I even remember lifting up the plastic handle painted silver to resemble metal before I felt my hair being grabbed, twisted and pulled. My head yanked back and then forward again slamming into the face of my closed locker. As my head flung back from the impact I opened my eyes and was stunned to see that where my head had just hit the locker there was now a dent. I was surprised my head could do that and was wondering what my forehead looked like at that point, hoping it didn't look as bad as the locker. I didn't realize what was happening to me until I was on the ground looking up at a girl's face that I couldn't recognize because of the tears welling up in my eyes. I wasn't crying because of the pain, I don't think I had felt anything so far, I was crying because of the humiliation I was enduring and going to endure. I started to recognize her now. I noticed her dark complexion, her big brown eyes hidden behind black mascara and eyeliner, and her distinct dark hair up in a ponytail as it always was. Her name was Marisa. I even remembered the time I asked her why she never wore her hair down and getting the response, "So that I'm always ready for a fight."
I saw a crowd start to form around us, Marisa and I, and wished so bad that I wasn't lying on the floor crying. I wished that I just had enough dignity to at least stand up, but I didn't. I had no clue what was going to happen next so I looked at Marisa but I could tell by the blank expression on her face as she stared into the forming crowd that she didn't know what was going to happen next either. I think she didn't want to continue because I saw her eyes glaze over as she looked into the crowd; she realized she would have to keep going for the sake of her reputation. I felt sorry for her at that moment, I think some of my tears might even have been shed for her. Then my thoughts were interrupted by a girls' scream from the crowd.
"Kick her!"
I looked to see who said this and was startled to see that it was my best friend, well ex-best friend, Allie Hernandez, with Ashley Sellers, another ex-best friend. All of a sudden I realized exactly what was going on and why. Allie and Marisa were friends and Allie always had Marisa do her dirty work. I was just another girl Allie had turned on and called Marisa to clean up. I used to be one of the four most popular girls in the whole middle school. It was always Allie- the pack leader, Ashley- the boy magnet, Me- the party starter, and Carolyn- the realist. We each had our job and place in the group, and I actually thought that if anyone were to get kicked out first it would be Carolyn. Obviously I was wrong. I realized this was all over what Allie had already "disowned" me for earlier that day; licking lemon Lucas out of a boys hand that she had a crush on. My train of thought, connecting all the dots, was interrupted by another scream from the crowd.
"Kick her, Marisa!"
I look again to see that this time it was Ashley saying it.
"Kick her! Kick her! Kick her! Kick her!" she screamed as she turned around to the crowd and swung her arm in the air at the same time in an attempt to get the crowd to join her…and they did.
I remember making eye contact with Allie as she joined in, she was the first. She looked at me as she brought her arm up and screamed for Marisa to kick me too. My tears began to fall harder than before and run down my cheeks like rain. I watched as one by one more and more people joined in this treacherous chant that was now haunting me. I couldn't recognize anyone's face as I scanned the crowd for someone who wasn't joined in this chant, someone who might have pity for me. I finally locked eyes with Carolyn; she was the only one not participating in this chant. She looked at me and her eyes began to well, I made one tear fall to ask her to come and save me and instead she shed a tear and turned around and walked away. Now I was bawling like a little baby. I knew what was about to come to me and I did nothing to stop it. Sure enough, just as I expected, the first kick to the ribs came and it slammed my whole left side into the wall…I didn't feel a thing. The crowd was a big blur now chanting in rhythm, it looked almost like a scene from a movie, something I could never imagine I would see myself. And soon another kick came and went, this one a little lower than the other. All I could do was watch the two blurred figures I recognized as Allie and Ashley chant with such enthusiasm for Marisa to kick me over and over again, as I got kicked over and over again. Somewhere around the tenth kick I couldn't bear to watch Allie and Ashley anymore so I focused on the floor. I had never been that close to the middle schools floor before and had never even really taken notice of it. It was a cheap kind of tile, maybe linoleum, which had gray smudges and specks of that familiar light blue in it. This light blue was famous around this school because it was our school color. If you looked I bet you could find that blue in every room of this whole middle school. Where I was looking there was also a scuff mark from a black shoe that I wished I could rub off.
I must have been kicked in the stomach around twenty times before the bell rang and everyone scurried off like mice, screaming about how they were going to be late. I could even hear debating on what excuses kids were going to use for their tardiness.
"We'll just say we were talking to Mrs. Murphy," someone said to their friend, "Mrs. Murphy loves us she'll say we were with her."
I saw Marisa just as she slipped in a door about four classrooms down. I got on my hands and knees and crawled clumsily around the corner into the side of a stairwell and was completely baffled when met with a girl sitting on the steps waiting for me. I didn't recognize this girl at all and I wondered if she was in the crowd. She was a heavy-set, white girl with big, rosy cheeks. She wore blue jeans and a pink v-neck shirt with these cute little tight sleeves that had little bows on them to match the bow made by the string going across under her chest.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I didn't have the energy to say anything back; I just looked at her with my beat red face and felt one last tear roll down my face. I was so glad to see her. I never thought anyone would ever talk to me again…I was wrong again.
"Do you want to go to the bathroom or the office or something?" she asked.
I did not reply but let my head down in exhaustion.
"I'll just let you sit here for a minute," she said I was so glad she understood what I was trying to say and I didn't have to force myself to speak.
The last thing I wanted to do right now was to speak.
"I saw you getting kicked and all and I wanted to jump in and help you but I just didn't want to end up…well…like you…so I didn't …I'm sorry."
I could tell she really cared and that she really would of jumped in if she wasn't so scared for herself. It felt so good to hear that someone actually cared about me.
"You ready to get up?" she asked.
"Yea," I replied, and I was.
She grabbed my arm and helped me stand up. We walked up the stairs and I guess I seemed fine to climb them because she let go of my arm half way up the first flight. She walked next to me, always one step behind, I guess to make sure I didn't fall or anything. I realized I didn't know her name and I wanted to know it.
"Hey, what's your name?" I asked.
"Oh sorry, it's Ashley," she replied, "Ashley McMorris."
"Cool, nice to meet you Ashley. I'm Shayla."
"I know your name."
"Oh."
I didn't really know what to say to that. The statement kind of made me feel awkward.
We got up the second flight of stairs and walked to the left toward the end of the school the office was on. We didn't speak as we walked past three sections of lockers with a big wooden doors between each. Without even thinking about it I was picturing each room as I passed it's door.
We walked upstairs as long as possible, waiting till the last stairwell to go back down. We made a left down the sixth grade hallway. Its was called 6B and its downstairs counterpart was called 6A. As a sixth grader I was in 6A. We got to last stairwell at the end of the hall and we walked down it together, turning around at the platform just as we did before. We walked through 6A together and I wondered if she went here during sixth grade like I did. We passed by Mrs. Walldrop's room and I remembered the day I cut my hair in class to make myself bangs. I remembered the quarrel I had with the teacher because she wanted me to take my hand away to uncover the damage. I refused so she sent me to the principles office. It was the first time I had been in that much trouble.
We reached the end of 6A and turned left toward the office. This part is really fuzzy. I can't remember whether Ashley went in they office with me or not but I know she said some encouraging words before she left. I must of talked to the principle because I remember my dad came to pick me up to take me to the ER. I didn't think I needed to go to the ER but my dad insisted and I wasn't about to argue.
The next thing I remember is registering in the ER of Cook Children's Hospital, where my step-mom, Laurie, worked. My dad called Laurie and told her to meet us downstairs in the ER waiting room. After registering in I went to the restroom. I didn't pee because I figured I would have to pee in a cup when they called me in but I wanted to go to the restroom to see how I looked and to have a moment to myself. I walked in the restroom and saw my face in the mirror for the first time since the attack. My face was completely flushed and where I was red I was as white as a ghost. My hair was a tangled mess, my eyes were drooping from the exhaustion and the left knob on the top of my forehead was a reddish-purple and had a little gash on it from the locker. I looked horrible and I couldn't bare to look at myself anymore so I turned away from the mirror and leaned against the sink. I wanted to cry again but I knew that if I started it would take me a while to stop so I held it in. I sighed and pushed myself off the sink and over to the door to leave the bathroom. When I walked out into the waiting room I saw my dad and Laurie sitting in a corner with a chair saved for me right in between them. My dad looked at me and Laurie followed his gaze. As soon as she saw me her eyes glistened over, I could see she wanted to cry but she gulped the urge down just as I did, and I was glad. I walked over to them and sat in the chair they had saved for me between them. We sat in silence as we waited for my name to be called. We watched as one-by-one people walked behind the curtains after their names were called. I was beginning to nod off when my name was finally called.
"Shayla Rochelle Poling?" the nurse said, as if it were a question.
I got up with my parents and we walked through the curtains we had been watching everyone else disappear behind. Dad and Laurie sat in the two chairs set against the wall. I was told to sit on the exam table so that they could check my blood pressure. I told her the story as she took my blood pressure and then she jotted down some things on her clipboard. My blood pressure was 130/90, a little too high she said, but normal for my condition and situation. She told me to get undressed and handed me the backless paper robe. Dad left the room with the nurse but Laurie asked me if she could stay. I could tell she was worried about me so I left her. I started to undress and she turned her head. I took off everything till I got to my underwear and then I didn't know whether I needed to take those off or not. I didn't want to if I didn't have to so I asked Laurie.
"Do you think I need to take off my underwear?"
"You shouldn't have to," she replied as she was still turned away.
I was glad she didn't turn around because I was in a thong and I wasn't allowed to have thongs yet. I wasn't in the mood to get into trouble.
I put on the infamous robe over my thong and tied it behind my back. Then I sat on the edge of the exam table again. I knew dad was worried about me so I wanted Laurie to go get him.
"You can go get dad now…I'm sure he would like to come back in," I said to Laurie.
She got up and left the room to get him without saying a word. I tried a little harder to cover myself up because I was uncomfortable being so naked, especially in front of my dad. They both came back in so I left my robe alone. They sat in the chairs and we waited in silence again for the doctor to come in. After about twenty minutes I was starting to get very cold and I guess Laurie could tell.
"Do you want a blanket?" Laurie asked, "You look pretty cold."
"Yea," I replied.
She left the room to go get me one. She came back in a couple minutes later with a blanket that felt as if they kept it on a heater. I loved having Laurie with me when I was in the hospital because she always knew all the tricks of the trade. Without her I would of never of thought to ask for a blanket. About fifteen minutes later the doctor came in. He asked me to tell him the whole story while he was getting set up, so I did. By the time I was down he had pulled up his rolling chair and was sitting next to me listening intently. He told me he was going to had to move my robe to feel around my ribs and asked me if I wanted my parents in there for that. I said no so the doctor looked at my parents in anticipation to leave. They got up and walked out of the room. The doctor asked me to lay down and I did. He lifted up my robe and started to poke around my stomach, asking everyone once in a while if where he was pressing hurt. I would either say a little or no each time. I wished more than anything I hadn't worn a thong that day because I wanted that extra little bit of coverage. From then on every morning I put thought, maybe even too much, into whether or not it was going to be worth it to wear a thong to school again. I was also scared the doctor would make some cute comment about me being too young for that underwear and that would of made me even more uncomfortable. Soon he put my robe back down though without saying a thing.
"I'm going to talk to your parents outside," he said, "you can get dressed."
"Okay," I responded.
When he walked out I sighed in relief as I fixed my robe. He told my parents I was fine and had no broken ribs or major damage and that we were free to leave. I walked out just as he gave Laurie some paperwork.
"Come on, let's go home," Laurie said to me as she gave me a hug.
