SO this story takes place when I was in the 6th grade, a smol innocent bean. I was really (like i am still am) Into writing and drawing stories. I even had a small comic with stickfigures called Dragon Dragon. (Very creative Name) SO i was making my way through the school, and my Cousin Carl and his friend Nate who were 8th graders walked over to me. Now I wasnt very found of Carl, since he was kind of a player, and mom told me people like them were no good. So i always tried to stay away from them. But they were coming to me. And they were like: “Watcha reading Zion?” and I was like “None of your business” And I was like trying to walk past them. So he forcibly grabs my notebook, me benign small i didnt carry much weight, as his friend was trying to block me, from hitting him, and he ripped the notebook to shreads right in front of me. A good couple months of hard work. I was SO pissed, like you have no idea. And so out of anger I literally ripped his friend uniform shirt off his side, and started beating the crap out of him. But of course that didnt stop my cousin. He decided to grab my back pack and run off with it. As he ran he opened the bag, and threw everything inside of it, out. At this point I was so angry, I didnt know what to do, so I just yelled out loudly F**K YOU, F**K YOU F**K F**K F**K YOU! Mind you, this was in school in the morning with people around. But the worst part? There was a line of about 25 6 year olds next to me.
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