He had me pinned to the wall by the collar of my shirt. My
left hand inched its way discreetly toward my pants pocket, and I pulled out
the one thing that could save me. My lunch money.
It was only two dollars, I was used to it. The faster he
left me, the better.
“What’s wrong? You seem out of it today.”
“I’m… being bullied.” I decided to be honest. He slackened
his grip on my shirt. I gasped for air.
“Family troubles? Don’t worry, you can talk to me anytime.”
And he walked away with my lunch money.
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