When you're an eight year old kid who's just moved to a new town and is trying to fit in and get new friends, well, you'll do just about anything to fit in. And when your skateboarding tricks just aren't cutting it with the rest of the guys, well, what's an eight year old kid to do? The answer is simple; cut someone down to make yourself feel bigger.
The problem was that Paul Lahote had never been a big kid. He'd always been especially scrawny and short, giving him the appearance of someone about a year or two younger than he actually was. That sure dealt a hit to his chances of being popular with the rest of the guys in La Push. There was also the fact that he wasn't really particularly skilled in anything, so he couldn't show them anything cool that would make them like him.
He was left with making fun of someone, but it couldn't be another guy. Not when he was the smallest kid in his classroom. No, that definitely wasn't an option.
With calculating, dark eyes, Paul Lahote scanned the room until he found his victim. A girl sat in the corner, which was what she usually did, a book in her hands. With a free hand, she pushed her large glasses up onto her nose, biting her lip. She had braces, which was rare for a kid her age, but her parents had wanted her to get in and out of them as fast as she could. Besides, she'd already lost all of her baby teeth.
Her name was Elisa Thomas. Elisa wasn't the most beautiful girl, which most people recognized, with long, bushy dark hair, tanned skin, and baggy clothes that really did nothing for her. Her green eyes would have been nice, but they were covered by bulky glasses, and stature wasn't anything to die for. She never talked to anyone. All she ever did was read.
It was then that Paul realized that he could do this. He could use this girl, this nobody, to bring himself up on the popularity scale. It was as simple as that, wasn't it?
It was with that thought that Paul Lahote marched up to the dark haired eight year old, intent on doing what he needed to do. The other boys looked on curiously, wondering what the hell he was doing with Elisa. Elisa looked up as well, her eyes wide, wondering why someone was coming over to talk to her. No one ever came over to talk to her.
"You ugly little freak." He spat, his nose scrunching up in disgust. He watched as her face fell, satisfaction filling him when his friends howled with laughter. "What'cha got there, nerd?" He questioned, plucking the book from her hands. "Ah, Pride and..." He paused. "Pride and... Pre-juice."
"Prejudice." She corrected him, sounding almost like a mother. That irritated Paul. She frowned, leaping to her feet. "Give me my book back!" Elisa demanded.
"No, nerd." He snapped, pushing her back so that she landed on her butt, right onto her milk carton. The entire classroom howled with laughter as her face turned bright red and tears grew in the corners of her eyes.
The tormenting continued on for years, with the teacher asking what happened and Elisa not being able to admit that Paul was teasing her. Paul was thrown up to the top of the social ladder. No one ever stood against him.
Then one day, she didn't come to school. He was eleven years old then, filling out a bit, though not by much. Paul snorted. "Good. I didn't want to see her face here anyway."
But then she didn't show up for the rest of the week. That week turned to weeks, which quickly turned to months. Paul realized that she wasn't going to come back. When he finally got the nerve to ask his mother about it, his mother told her that Elisa had problems with bullying and her parents moved her. "She wouldn't say who it was," his father had said. "But her parents knew that it was serious and so they moved. I hope that person is happy with what they did."
At first, Paul felt bad for treating Elisa like that and for causing her to move. But as the years went on, he slowly began to forget that she ever even existed. And by the time he became a part of the pack, he'd forgotten all about Elisa Thomas, and what he'd done to her.
But the past always ends up coming back to haunt you.