On bullies

I was running down the stairs, weighted with my overstuffed backpack, jammed in next to all of the other students—some going in my direction and some going up—trying to make it to fourth period on time, when she hit me in the back of my head. For no reason that I can remember now, or that I was aware of back then, the 8th grade bully had punched me from behind. I was in 7th grade with braces, gawky and unknown. She was pretty with long dark hair, was intimidating and unprovoked. After she struck me, I cried in the girls bathroom, alone. My head ached. But more than anything, I was humiliated.