The Fight

Lisa was the perfect girl who had everything. Her spiraled blond curls reflected the shimmering sun. Walking behind her I noticed how those curls would bounce in rhythm to her step as if they were dancing. Her eyes were an amazing dark blue like a calm ocean on a warm spring morning glimmering in the sun. It appeared as though diamonds were sprinkled across them. It was a hot day in Hemet, California. The breeze was heavy and the air sticky. She had invited me over to play that day. A day I will never forget.

Walking into her room was like entering a fantasy world. Her curtains were a pale pink color, covered with white lace; the kind that framed a window like a picture. Bordering the ceiling was strips of pink wall paper, it had pictures of Barbie Dolls lined up, one after the other. Each with a different out-fit on. In the corner of the room was a beautiful jeweled covered chest. Her bed was inside a huge life size doll house that took up half the room. It also had a kitchen connected to it that consumed the other side of the doll house. On her wall was an over-sized picture of Lisa with her parents. She had the perfect family with the perfect bedroom. Even the dog sat happily next to her dad in the photo as if life had always been the same.

We entered the kitchen half of the doll house and I felt excitement building up, my imagination was going crazy. A real Easy Bake oven, a pink table with white plastic chairs, cupboards and a miniature refrigerator, was inside the Kitchen. Lisa grabbed an instant box of cupcake mix. I grabbed a bowl to help mix it in and put on the apron that was hanging from a hook by the kitchen door.

A shrieking voice filled my ears making my ear drums pulsate. I looked at Lisa with confusion when out of her mouth came: “What do you think you are doing? You can’t help me, I’m the cook! Not you. Now sit down and wait till I’m done.” She proclaimed. Her bossy tone of voice prevented me from indulging in my desire to play chef. ‘Fine’ was all I could push out of my throat. Disappointment set in. I plopped down in a chair at the table and asked if I could have something to drink. Lisa pretended to pour me a drink. Tired of waiting for her to stop playing “by her-self” and start playing with me, I took notice in the jewel covered chest at the corner of the room.

I got up and started walking over to it as if it had me in a trance. I felt a gust of wind rush by me. It was Lisa running toward the chest like she was in a race. She slammed her hand down on the lid of the chest. Surprised, I felt anger and jealousy simmer up in my throat. Lisa said; “My Barbie collection is in here and only I can touch them. I have a Barbie for every birthday since I was born! You’re not allowed to touch them because this is my room, and my rules and I’ll make you go home if you don’t listen to me, and you’ll never be allowed to come over unless I say you can!” My face felt hot as if steam was evaporating from the top of my head. I envisioned stuffing a dirty sock down her throat to shut her up. I couldn’t stand the pressure from my pounding heart; it felt like it was going to explode! I yelled back imagining flames escaping my mouth. I wasn’t even sure what I had said to her.

Turning around and stomping out of her room I headed for the front door like I had a point to make and a mission to accomplish. I could hear her footsteps behind me in perfect rhythm with mine. Yes! I made it to the door. I flung it open letting the outside in. The hot breeze came rushing over me and the sun hit my face. I felt like I was walking into a heater. Free at last! I stepped out onto the sidewalk under the boiling sun and headed for home. While stomping home, my face had cooled off and the steam from my head seemed to have evaporated.

A force had flung me to the ground, coming so fast it caught me off guard. I hit the concrete so hard it felt like I smacked up against a brick wall running at top speed. Confused and stunned, I rolled over to see why I had fallen. Lisa was standing over me looking down into my eyes. She had a scowl on her face I never before witnessed. Her deep sea colored eyes had turned to a stormy gray. Even though hitting the ground wasn’t exactly fun, I felt elated. I knew as I stomped out of her house and refused to play her games, it pissed her off. That is exactly what I wanted to do. I stood up and brushed the gravel off my elbows and knees. I felt empowered. I wasn’t going to let her get away with pushing me off the sidewalk and into the cul-de-sac road where we lived. It was my turn to be the boss!

I pulled my arm back as if it were a stiff bat in a sling shot and let it go full force. I heard a loud clapping sound as the palm of my hand hit Lisa on the side of her head just above her eye. Knocking her off balance, she teetered back and forth trying to step away from me.

I heard a chanting and then realized all the neighborhood kids had surrounded us. We were trapped in a circle- the circle of pain- you either give pain or get pain. I chose to give it. Her eyes welled up with tears and her mouth opened wide as she started to cry. The chanting soon came into focus… they were rooting for me. The power I felt seemed to only grow stronger as they chanted my name. This was it. I hated her perfect blond curls, new clothes, and bossiness. I hated Lisa. I grabbed the back of her shirt, as she tried to leave the circle, and flung her around, making her land on the ground. Bending over, I grabbed the biggest handful of those silky curls as I could get. I pulled them so hard, like I was trying to rip them off her head.

Laughter came from the other kids watching. Their laughter had calmed my adrenaline rush and I started to breath slower. Turning, I pushed my way out of the crowed and ran towards home with the events of the fight circulating in my mind. I looked back and saw Lisa rushing to her front door with her face buried in her hands. Mission accomplished. I had torn down her perfect spoiled world. I had brought her down to my level.

I knew her mom would be calling mine to tell her what I had done. As I looked at the front door to my house, I feared entering it. A knot tied in my stomach and a lump of pain filled my throat. I had never felt so empowered before. A shameful feeling over came me as I wondered what my mom would think when she found out.

I walked inside and there she was; mom looked at me like she could see right through me. My heart was pounding so hard I heard drums beating from inside my chest. I reasoned with myself: If I asked for the punishment then maybe she would have some compassion on me. All I wanted was to get it over with! Mom was really good at making me feel disgusted with myself, as if guilt wasn’t enough. I started to cry. The rush of emotions felt good to release. I begged for her to ground me. Mom looked deep into my eyes like she knew my strategy. I was sure she would have one of those “talks” with me… something I feared most. Finally after the agony of awaiting her reply she bent down to face me. I didn’t want her to start the talk. I continued to beg her to just ground me. “Please let me get grounded! That’s all I ask for.”

Her mouth opened and the words streamed out like sewing pins pricking me painfully with every decree. Even though all she said was; “If that’s what you think you deserve. Now go to your room and think about what you have done. Tomorrow Lisa will get an apology.” I couldn’t stand it. The thought of me facing Lisa and apologizing was worse than being tortured by a machine that literally sucked the life out of you, year by year, growing older at every shock. The idea of death became pleasant.

I remember sitting at the dinner table agonizing over the next day, the day I had to apologize to Lisa. I couldn’t eat anything. My stomach felt as though it were trying to digest a rock, nor did I sleep that night. I tossed and turned. With every movement, while lying in bed, my mind recalled the events of that day. I had come to the conclusion that my mom didn’t know the whole situation of how selfish Lisa is and how she tried to control me as if I was her very own robot. I decided that I had every right to put her in her place, besides, she pushed me first. It was like she asked for it. I was the real victim, and I was the one who deserved an apology.