And the Beating Goes On

The afternoon drags along with only the occasional giggle to punctuate the lessons the teacher is trying to convey. I try my best to pay attention, but find my eyes continuously drawn to the window outside of which the storm rages on. A tree whose branches reach to only inches from the glass looks as tossed and ravaged as I feel. From time to time, I glance away from the string of characters that Mrs. Baxter is writing on the board to the tree. It seems that every time I look, the tree is closer and closer to giving up under the onslaught of wind and fierce rain, losing more leaves and strength with every passing second.

For a moment, I am convinced that the tree is beckoning me, calling me out into the rain. I shudder to think of crawling across the ledge and into the pouring rain. My clothes would be soaked in seconds and my hair plastered to my forehead. I close my eyes real tight before I look outside again. The tree still seems to be beckoning toward me with its long, leafy limbs. In retrospect, it may have been just trying to get me to move out of my seat for my own safety. Of course, trees are not capable of thought and action, but so much that I have believed all my life was not completely as it seemed.

As I go to close my eyes again, dispelling this apparition of my own boredom, a loud clap of thunder rocks the classroom. As the class gasps in unison, my chair is suddenly tipped backwards, and I see lightning for a brief second before darkness overtakes me. I have learned to hate the darkness, but this darkness is so complete that I have no room to feel or think. I am brought back from the darkness to a different form of blindness.

Mrs. Baxter is gently massaging my hands and cheeks to try to revive me. Many of the students have crowded around to see if I am dead. I can tell by the smile hiding in his eyes that the leader of the bullies is responsible for the searing pain that is ripping through the back of my head. I wince as the tears come. Mrs. Baxter's concerned expression turns to one of indignation.

"Are you okay? I hope so, and hopefully this will teach you to leave all four legs of your chair firmly on the ground."

"But I..."

"I don't need to hear your excuses. Children always assume it is safe to horseplay when the teacher's back is turned, but we make rules for a reason."

"But..."

"Don't talk back to me or you'll be visiting the principal's office on your way back from the nurse. Do you think you can make it, or should I send another student with you?"

"I..."

"Betty, help her find the nurse's office."

A frail little girl with huge dark eyes in a thin, pale face steps out of the faces crowded around the teacher and gently takes my hand as I rise slowly from the floor. Against my own wishes, I find myself leaning against her a bit. My head aches horribly and I am certain I am not walking a straight line. I become even more convinced as Betty pulls me back toward the right-hand side of the hallway. As soon as Mrs. Baxter pops back into the classroom, having assured herself that we are indeed headed to the nurse's office, Betty opens her mouth to speak in a voice so timid it is almost inaudible.

"She shouldn't have yelled at you."

"What?" I respond, the pain in my head making it hard to process what she is saying to me.

"She had to have known it was Alfred that knocked your chair over, but I think she's afraid of his mom like everyone else."

"Oh. Well..." I forget what I intended to say as my mind seems to go numb, "My head hurts."

"Bella, Bella, are you alright?" the concern in her voice escalates, as she tries to keep me from careening unchecked toward the floor.

I feel myself slipping toward the floor, despite her efforts. I try to stay standing and keep walking, but the darkness comes over me again. As my face makes gentle contact with the cold, hard tiles of the floor, Betty finally releases her hold on me. The last thing I am aware of, in this instant, is how nice it was to feel I could trust her for those seconds when she was trying to make sure I didn't hurt myself as I passed out again. Pattering footsteps run away from me, seeking after help, an adult, someone to make it all better.

~~~

I awake again to find myself lying on my back in a strange room. The walls are the same pale green as the walls in my classroom, so I am sure that I am still in the school. I am lying on a cot in the center of the room. As I gently turn my head from side to side, I can observe most of the room through watery eyes. No one is in the room with me to caution me not to lift my head, but the pain that erupts when I try to convinces me to keep my head against the pillow. I hear voices talking softly in an attached room, but I can not see through walls, so I am not sure who they are.

A hideous depiction of a louse leers down at me from the far wall. I am sure that some message is attached, but my head hurts too much to try to read the short string of block letters. I feel myself beginning to drift back into unconsciousness as footsteps round the corner. I vaguely remember hoping I would not dream of that hideous orange bug. My eyes begin to flutter closed as two figures round the corner from the other room.

"Bellabooo, you're awake," Neesa's anxious voice pulls me back from the brink.

"Good, she really needs to stay awake. As I told you, I have no idea what Mrs. Baxter was thinking," a pretty young lady with dark hair and a freckled nose says as she leans over me and peers into my eyes, "Open your eyes a little wider darling. Thanks so much."

Then I am yelping in pain as she shines a penlight directly into my eyes. My head explodes into new spasms of pain. The tears come again, blurring my vision. At that moment, the door opens with a squeak. I try to see past the tears as they flood down my cheeks, but am sure that I am not seeing correctly. I see a huge ogre with scaly, gray skin standing in the doorway. The nurse doesn't scream and run, so I am sure that I must be mistaken and stop my own scream by biting my tongue so hard that I am crying again.

As I dash away the tears and peer at him again, I see a very tall, squarely built man standing just inside the door. He smiles and winks at me as I stare at him and rub my eyes. Then he steps forward letting the door close behind him.

"Hey, Neesa, I came as soon as they told me you might need a little help."

"Thanks," she pauses as if trying to remember his name, "Bo I was hoping you could carry Bella out to the car. The nurse doesn't think she should be walking around."

"Okay," he says in a soft, soothing voice.

As he lifts me into his powerful arms, I wrap my own slender arms around his neck. I cock my head to the side in confusion as my hand rubs up against roughened skin. He winks at me again and the illusion fades momentarily. For a fraction of a second, I am peering directly into the hideous face of an ogre. I feel my breath catch in my throat, preparatory to releasing a scream. I hear his voice inside my head then, "Shhh, Bella, we don't need to let the nurse know, do we?"

He smiles at me and for some reason I giggle. The nurse turns to look at me with concern in her eyes, as I bury my face into his broad chest.

"Make sure you keep an eye on her. I don't think she has a concussion, but she did knock her head hard enough that the pain keeps making her pass out," the nurse says.

"Yes, ma'am. Is this all of her stuff?" Neesa replies, as she grabs my backpack from a table.

"I believe so. Mrs. Baxter said she included her homework, too."

Then we are on our way out of the building--the beauty, the beast, and Bella. I feel myself drifting off again in the comfortable protection of Bo's arms.