AN: Now that I read it over again, it's a odd story, but a friend of mine wanted me to post it so here it is: my first fight.

I walked onto the playground that day with one thing in mind: vengeance.

My tiny hands balled into a fist and my lips pressed together tight. The reason I was mad is unclear to me now. It was either because the person had taken a crayon from me in class without asking me or that he had been called the teacher's favorite student-and obviously only I was supposed to be her favorite student. That's how it worked, right? And the person who had stolen my spot was going to pay, because I was ready to do anything to get it back. I scanned the battle field, already having planned out in my little five year old mind how I was going to find him, what I was going to say to him, and just exactly how I was going to get my ultimate revenge.

My Target: Robert Markson—one of the most disruptive kids in my class, which was one reason I couldn't figure out why my teacher would see him as a better student then me. He sat right next to me in class and always teased and made fun of me, even more of a reason to exact my revenge. None of the girls in class wanted to be near him. He had a growth coming out of his nose that sort of looked like a booger and he never covered his mouth so he always sneezed all over the table.

No, this wasn't just about my vengeance anymore. It was about setting this guy straight that stealing a girl's crayons or taking her spot as the favorite student was just going too far.

It didn't take me long to spot Robert, he had his back to me and was kicking a soft red ball back and forth with several other guys on the playground. The annoyance that had swelled in my tiny chest during class came back as he seemed well at ease. Didn't he know what he had done?

I walked up behind him as the red ball was kicked to him. He trapped the ball under his foot, unaware of my presence, but all the other boys looked up at me curiously. I placed a tiny hand on his shoulder and turned him around to face me with more force then I thought I had. He looked at me surprised and confused. I pulled back my arm and closed up my tiny fist as soon as I saw his face, forgetting everything I had planned in my head.

Before he could react, I punched him right in the nose.

He fell back and landed on his butt, holding his nose as tears swelled up in his eyes. I glared down at him as an uproar of gasps and cheers came from the boys around us and before I could even blink half of the playground was around us. I stood there with my tiny, lethal fist closed tightly. I wasn't sure what next to do, but I stood there as tall as I could - despite being the shortest in my class - and tried to look as intimidating as possible to make sure Robert understood how I felt.

"Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight!"

Before I could do anything else to Robert I was pulled on the arm by a teacher, who gasped in horror as she saw Robert on the ground, his nose bleeding. Another teacher came over and helped him up as the other turned me around and dragged me back toward the school. I didn't realize until then that tears ran down my face and I frowned thinking about how it was all Robert's fault. I let out a wail and started to cry as I realized the teacher who had grabbed my arm was my own teacher.

She pulled me inside, the school air conditioner hitting my face wet with tears. She frowned and yelled at me, questioning why I had punched Robert. I shrugged, ashamed that she wasn't proud of me and that I had only made her upset with me. When she took me to the office, she got me tissues and explained to the office what had happened. I sat outside the office, my arms crossed and tears still streaming down my face.

Robert came in then, holding his nose as the walked him past me to the nurses office. I made sure he saw me glaring at him.

My teacher finally came out of the office and told me my mom was coming to get me. I didn't look at her, angry that she yelled at me. She handed me a box of tissues then and sat next to me. She hugged me and said she wasn't mad at me and again asked me why I had hit Robert. I just shrugged. She told me I had gotten a detention and then left me there at the office chair.

I sniffed and shifted in my seat and unfolded my arms. A twinge of happiness filled me as I realized she said she hadn't been mad at me. I never really regretted my first fight, and after all I became one of the most memorable students my teacher knew.