Mostly Unlady

Part 18

Oh, Mum...

It's official. I'm a danger to society and parents from my building and from school say that I need professional help.

Things started to look up as we approached my 10th birthday. I got given great news from Nona and dad that they are planning to have a baby (you'll remember I've been asking for ages). Classmates were finally talking to me, my grades were higher than ever, and Abe was not sulking around me and Elena as much. And then it was my birthday, and on that day, there was a storm. This storm meant everybody called to cancel, except for Abe and Elena, since they are in my building.

The weather wasn't bad right away and Abe, Elena, Mateus and I went to play football on a field, a couple of minutes from the bloc. We were two girls and two boys and Abe teamed up with Mateus, Elena's brother. I said I thought we should have boy-girl/boy-girl, but Abe would have none of that. I was surprised to see him protest, given it was his chance to play with the lady of his dreams. But after he screamed, purple-faced, that he'd never play with a weak, useless, moronic, stinking giiiiiirl, I gave up. Now I think he loves machismo more than Elena.

After a few dribbles between the two boys, Abe picked up the ball and stormed away further into the field, signalling for Mateus to follow, but glaring back at me and Elena whenever we appeared to be catching up with them.

Elena and I pleaded for the ball back so that we could play a proper game, but there was no use. Abe would glare back at us and pull out his tongue, grimace and later he appeared to be wiping his groin with my ball, though he was far by then, so maybe I'm wrong. That's when it started to get dark and Elena decided to call back her brother, who looked like he needed a hit from his inhaler.

Mateus ran to his sister and after saying she was sorry, Elena and her brother left me alone...with Abe.

It started to rain, and I wasn't in the best of moods, so I just stormed over to Abe to grab my ball out of his arms. I did manage to get the ball on the first try, and, judging from the look on his face, I got him by surprise. Then, Abe barges into me so he can get the ball back. I start twirling on the spot, then I give a big jerk to detach myself from him and I hear "Uh!". 

That's when I realise I hit him in the stomach with my elbow. I drop the ball and go to him to see that he's okay. My plan is just to check he's breathing and then I would sprint back home as fast as possible (nothing to do with the storm). Before I can move, he gets up and his face is the colour of the clouds, blue and grey and purple. He raises an arm and spouts "You!" He then lets out this word I'd never heard shouted at me before. He shouts: "Biiiiiitch! You filthy bitchy bitch!"

And I'm standing there with the storm clouds crashing over me and I say in the exact same tone: "Whaaaat?!"

He says: "Biiiiiiiiitcha!"

I say: "Come again; if you dare!"

He says: "You're a little, shitty biiiiiiiiitch"

So I say: "Oh yeah? Well, this bitch, is going to kiiick your aaaaaaarse"

He scoffed. 

"You heard me," I say, "I am going to KICK YOUR ASS; you fat, little, butterball!"

His frown melts into an empty stare and his elbows raise and fold to his sides in time with a flash of lightning. I know immediately where this is going. Before his first cluck cut through the rumble of the thunder, I was on him. I mean I was on top of his body. It's coming back to me in bits, actually (I was the angriest I have ever been in my life and it messed with my head). I can remember us rolling around on the wet ground. Then being sat on his back, with one of my knees on each side of his neck. My hands are clutching his head and I'm rubbing his nose into the soggy lawn as he cries. He called for his mother once or twice, and it's raining harder. The palm trees on the edge of the pitch look like they're going to break. I let go of Abe and I'm alone. I leave the football pitch. I don't even pick up my ball.

The mums in the building have been warning their kids not to play with me ever since. No one cares about my side of the story. No one asks, they just judge. Dad tells me I'm not very ladylike, but he also can't stop sniggering while saying in a little voice, "boy gets beat up by a girl". I'm not sure that's all I wanted from dad. He didn't really stand up for me in the end. But at least Abe's mom didn't get much out of dad either. She demanded my apology—and in writing—but dad wouldn't have it. Then Abe's mom asked my parents to at least get me a therapist because the facts were that I viciously beat up her son without provocation and that I'm an anti-Semitic, which is when a person dislikes a person of the Jewish faith, just because they have that faith.

It's all untrue, except for the part where it got physical, which I regret. Abe did get some bruises, but no more than I did. Other boys in the building get into much bigger fights—ones where punches are thrown, blood is drawn, and bones get fractured—and no one ever makes a fuss.

Nona says that's because fights are expected among boys. But you know me, mum, so I know you believe me. I'm not violent. I don't go about hating others because hate makes my heart ache. I know I'm not perfect, but I'm not what they say I am. I'm so busy fighting off Abe's mom's stories, I forgot to tell Elena my version of what happened. I hope it's not too late to tell her this is all about Abe hating girls, not anything else.

Love

Zelia

Ever been in a similar situation? What advice would you give Zelia? Comments and votes are most welcome!

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