Jane Penwell
Jul 24, 2017 · 2 min read

When I was about 10 and yes riding a school bus twice a day, I was being persecuted by a boy that I’ll call Bob. We sat near each other and I couldn’t move because we had assigned seats. So, I turned my back on Bob, ignored him and read or tried to read a book. This tactic did not work, in fact, it infuriated him even more. One day on the way home from school, after saying all kinds of nasty stuff about me, he grabbed my books from my seat. We didn’t have backpacks so the books were just sitting there. I yelled at him to give them back, which he did, all of them except my brand new red notebook. Right before my eyes, he took a pencil and carved HIS name on that notebook and laughed at me. I felt a wave of rage boil over me and I screamed ‘Your going to be sorry you did that’. Bob just laughed nastily and said ‘Who’s going to make me sorry’. I think I literally saw red and went into another dimension because the next thing I knew the bus was stopped, kids were yelling and the bus driver was standing over me saying ‘Have you lost your mind? Why did you do that?’ I had thrown Bobs books, including my red notebook, out of the bus window right into a ditch. Everything was ruined. ‘Tell him you’re sorry’ the bus driver demanded. ‘No I said ‘because I’m not sorry.’ I had to go to the principals office but I NEVER said I was sorry, not even 20 years later at a reunion.

    Jane Penwell

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