The whole afternoon passed without a word, after all, it was only the first day of first grade.
They didn't teach any serious lessons; they just explained some precautions while playing, and that was it until school was over.
I didn't leave the school; instead, I went to preschool.
Go pick up your sister, and then wait for Dad or Mom to come and take us back together.
I guess it's Mom coming. I overheard Mom and Dad chatting this morning, and from what I heard...
If it weren't for the fact that today was my first day of school, my dad wouldn't have come to take me.
When I got to the preschool gate, the other children had already finished school earlier than us.
There were hardly any people left, so I greeted the gatekeeper and then strolled around the yard.
It seems the security guard, though he doesn't know my name, definitely recognizes me.
He looked familiar. I told him I was picking up my sister, and they let me in right away.
As I was wandering around, I suddenly heard arguing coming from the classroom in front of me.
My gossip spirit ignited instantly; it brought back so many memories of kids fighting—I haven't seen that in almost thirty years!
I used to be small and often got bullied, but I couldn't accept it.
Otherwise, it will turn into bullying, and they'll get used to bullying you and that's it.
Even if you can't beat them, you have to fight back! I'm invincible below one person, and I'll trade one for one above one!
If you can find someone else, that's one less. After a few times, when others found out you were crazy, they didn't dare to bully you anymore.
As I walked, I headed toward the direction of the argument, but the further I went, the more familiar one of the voices sounded.
That sounds like my little sister's voice. She's been bullied. I quietly stretched my arms and legs.
It's time to unleash the little prince of underhanded tactics.
hehe
There's still a bit of nostalgia.
When I got closer and saw what was ahead, I thought to myself, "That's it."
Things are definitely not going to end well today. A group of seven or eight boys and girls surrounded my little sister and kept pushing and shoving her.
My younger sister was crying and saying something, but I didn't hear it clearly. Oh well.
They were about to fight anyway, so they kicked a chair leg in the next classroom.
I pointed at the boy who was facing away from me, the one who looked like the leader, and hit him on the head.
Today's experience already left me terrified and anxious, and I couldn't tell anyone about it.
I've been holding this in all day, and now I just want to vent my feelings of unease.
Of course, even if a 6-year-old boy launches a surprise attack first, his opponent is not only older than him,
There were more of them than me, but I only managed to take down two before being subdued by the others.
They beat me up, and while I was being beaten, I realized that the guys beating me were definitely stronger than me.
They had some technique to their moves, it wasn't just random hitting, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to take down only two of them before finishing me off.
The commotion was so loud that the teacher eventually came looking for them.
I was a little confused. After all, they were just kids, and they stopped when they saw the teacher coming.
When I was being beaten, my younger sister was being held back by two other girls, and by then her voice was hoarse from crying.
When she saw the teacher coming, the little girl forcefully broke free from the two girls' hands. When the girls saw the teacher, they stopped trying to make her break free.
My little sister threw herself at me, crying, and even hit me hard. I could hear her calling "Brother, Brother" over and over again.
Even though I was in excruciating pain, I still comforted her, saying, "It's okay, it's okay, I'm okay, little sister, don't cry."
But with my face covered in blood, it's not convincing at all.
When the teacher saw my face covered in blood, she was terrified. Without asking who was at fault, she carried me to the infirmary.
The boys and girls, at this point, were starting to feel scared; they hadn't thought things through when they hit them.
At this point, they were also feeling very guilty, and they all lowered their heads and remained silent.
The two I ambushed are both fine now and have joined the group kicking me out.
In the end, it was a bit awkward; he didn't get a single one and just got beaten up for nothing.
After a bumpy ride, we finally arrived at the infirmary. The little girl followed along with her lips pursed, silently sobbing, trying hard not to cry out loud.
I lay on the bed and laboriously placed my hand on my little sister's head, gently rubbing her hair.
He made another face at her, and then fainted again amidst his little sister's repeated calls of "Brother".
And I'm still having wild thoughts, what if I just go back like this? Waiting for answers online: Urgent!
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