In the Beginning...
When Stacy Rowe was eight years old, she had little girl named Ann as a neighbor. Stacy was very, very afraid of Ann, and I will give you an example why…
Ann kicked out a foot, catching a prone Stacy square in the side of the head, "You're ugly! And stupid! Stupid! Stupid!!"
With every 'stupid' Ann screamed at Stacy came another kick; another in the head, one in the stomach, and finally one to the face, leaving the wailing eight year old with what was sure to be a black eye.
Suddenly, an angry voice came from the blue-gray house next door. "Deborah Ann! Git your fat ass in here and quit beatin' on the Rowe girl! Youse gots chores to do, stupid!" It was Anns mother, screaming across the yard at her daughter.
Ann gave Stacy a last kick to the crotch, one more muttered 'stupid', and then trudged across the Rowes lawn towards home.
Stacy rolled on the ground, crying. She looked up towards her home and, through the front window, could see her Mother in the kitchen reading a newspaper. Mom had warned her to stay away from Ann, and not to fight. She knew when she got back inside Mom would tell her that this latest incident was her fault, and would no doubt punish her for being so bad. No dinner tonight, and she was so, so hungry…
If she was a good girl, Stacy thought, maybe Mom would have stopped the fight instead of looking on as Ann beat her up. The injured girl sniffed and got to her feet. She would try harder…try to be good. She wouldn't make Ann mad by putting up resistance when the bigger girl tried to take her lunch money, or tripped her, or pushed her around. She would be good.