The poor boy was amezed when he saw me freaking out. He jumped away as I jumped to my feet, screaming. He even tried to calm me down by gently touching my arm and telling me that everything was okay, but that simple gesture only makes it worst. Suddenly I was no longer in my classroom. I went all the back to that day, hands touching me, grabbing me, chocking me, and hurting me. It was as if once again I was trapped, with no way out, slowly dying in the hands of my attackers.
I knew it was just my mind caving to the fear, but I also knew I could pass by that again. No, not again! I rather any future – or no future at all – than live that moment one more time. I look to the window in the end of the classroom. In rainy or cold days, we could see the blurry world through it glass. In sunny days we always fight to see who would sit next to it, to enjoy the sun shines that pass through it. And today, it will be my way out.
I don´t think, I just run and jump against it, threw myself in the glass, which broke with my weigh.
Three seconds. That´s how long it took for my body to hit the ground. In the first second I thought I would see my life flashing before my eyes but all I saw was the hands of those who attacked me, and the hands of that boy, holding me. In the next second, I saw my mom, smiling at me, as if she was saying goodbye. In the last second, I saw hell, and then I hit the ground.
I always thought my death would be quick and painless but when I hit the ground I could feel a lot of pain. My left leg was killing me, probably, and my right leg was in a strange position. I knew my arm was hurting but I didn´t know which one. I couldn´t close my eyes and it hurt when I tried, so I stop trying it. I could hear someone screaming, but it wasn´t me. Pain don´t make me scream anymore.
And that was my last day of school before summer break.