But I couldn’t find him anywhere.
I ran to the convenience store, the elementary school, the art supply shop–no sign of him.
Finally, I went to the park, the place I always took him.
I wished so much that I could see him on the lonely swinging seat, his figure there.
But nothing.
I leaned over, breathing heavily.
“Yo, Ms. Palmer, what are you looking for?” A whistle sounded from behind me.
Two or three people, wearing hats and masks, closed in around me.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
I took a few steps back, panic rising. I didn’t know these people.
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Chapter 6
“Heh, we were just asked to give you a little haircut,” one of them sneered.
“Your mom said your hair is too long.”
That “mom” had to be my stepmother.
I couldn’t believe it–this woman had lost her mind enough to send people to cut my hair off.
Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me roughly. I tried to struggle, but couldn’t break free from the grip of an adult
man.
I started screaming, only to be slapped hard across the face
“I suggest you calm down. Who told you to go running out in the rain?”
The man with the scissors held them up, then ran them near my hairline.
Was this a haircut?
No, he just did it randomly.
My hair had taken so long to grow out, and I was always praised for how well I took care of it.
I couldn’t bear to see it destroyed like this.
I yanked at the man’s arm and bit down hard on his hand.
He yelped in pain and shoved me away before raising his hand to slap me, but before he could, a shadow darted from the corner.
It charged straight at the man holding me, knocking him to the ground.
“Where did you come from?!” the man shouted in fury, and only then did I see that it was Ben.
He was stumbling, barely able to stay on his feet, but his gaze was fierce.
Before I could even shout his name, he was knocked down.
As they pressed him into the ground, punching and kicking him, he didn’t scream.
Instead, he stared at me–his clear eyes, for the first time, filled with anger, but when they met mine, they also held a trace of helplessness.
“What’s your problem? He’s mentally challenged! Why are you hitting him?” I yelled at the group, and they stopped their assault.
One man, still standing in front of me, grabbed a metal pipe from nearby.
Right in front of me, he raised it high and swung it down toward Ben’s head.
“Over my dead body!”
That pipe seemed to crash into me too. In that instant, adrenaline surged through me.
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