Punch

Do you happen to have been punched in the face before? If not, it’s quite painful. Here’s a little story about how I found myself at the other end of an angry fist.

One day after school (this was early/mid 2007 by the way), I had been invited to go out with some friends. One of them, however, seemed to think it would be quite funny to keep hitting me, specifically by kicking me between the legs (I shan’t name them, of course, I don’t want to embarrass them, they were only fourteen!). Anyway, after a couple of hours, I decided that I’d probably be happier at home. While it is nice to hang out with a group of friends, having almost constant pain while doing so is rather a steep price to pay. As such, I decided to leave.

I was happily strolling back, when the person who had been hurting me ran along and caught up with me.

“Why are you going home already?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, and wondered how to explain, “I suppose it’s because I don’t like some of the people there.”

I looked at her and raised my eyebrows. I guess that was quite rude of me (she was and is a good friend) but I was frustrated.

And that’s when I was punched in the face. She was either a lot stronger than she looked, or I was a lot weaker than I looked, probably the latter, because it was so powerful I remember being knocked to the ground.

“Ow,” I said rubbing my cheek, “that was quite painful.”

“You looked right at me when you said you didn’t like some of the people there,” she said. “If you don’t like me, we’ve got no reason to be talking.”

And off she went. On reflection, I suppose it would have made more sense to say “I don’t like the fact that you are constantly kicking me in the crotch” but I was still kind of hurting from the last kick, and I guess my reply was given rather exasperatedly. But, yes, that’s the story of how I was punched in the face and, also, for quite a while after, how the puncher, and several of her friends, were very angry with me.

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