A seventh grader got his head stomped outside my room today. A gang of 8th graders--and no, I don't use the term "gang" lightly--knocked him down and somebody stomped his head once he was on the floor. I got out there only in time to help clear people from around him as the poor kid got dazedly to his knees. He had blood coming out his eye but fortunately they only stomped him once and took off.
So after seeing no violence my first three weeks at the March, I'm suddenly seeing it all the time. And the gangs of punks running the halls are no longer simply goofing off. They are vandalizing, terrorizing, and victimizing. They stole a girl's shoes today and threw them through a ceiling panel, which crashed into dust outside my room. They tore heavy metal blinds out the stairwell windows and ran with them clanking down the hall. One of them burst into my room, kicked over my trash and took off.
Feels like old times all of a sudden. I feel almost like I'm at home back at the Book. Rumor has it we even had a teacher beating, but it's on the down-low and I can't get details. Snitches get stitches.