Jeremy Threw a Rock at Me

When my cousin Jeremy was a kid, like five years old or so, he threw a rock at me. We were in a beach, and Apple and I decided to try rowing the small banka. It barely fit us two kids, and we couldn’t go far because there it had a hole. We had to scoop out the water using an empty can of Nido powdered milk just to stay afloat.

Jeremy saw how far we were. I stood up, and maybe I waved at him or something. He smiled, got a rock from the shore, and threw it at me. It hit me right on my forehead, and I heard him giggle. I didn’t want to cry because I knew that Jeremy did not mean to hurt me, but it was so painful that I just crumbled and sobbed.

When Apple and I got back to shore, tito Peter made Jeremy say sorry to me. Although what tito did was really nice, I felt so guilty because I knew Jeremy didn’t really mean it, but I was also glad that tito made sure that Jeremy learned his lesson. Still, I knew that he was too young to know that throwing rocks at people actually hurt.

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Note: For some entries in this blog, a few names and details have been deliberately and willingly changed by the author. This is a personal decision made by the author for specific reasons known to her and is not an endorsement for censorship.

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