Why Can't It Be A Repressed Memory?

I was in 6th grade at St.Columba Catholic School.

There was no playground for the students. Just a huge parking lot. They forced us to go outside after lunch regardless of the temprature.... this ment there were around 60 kids milling around with nothing to do for 30 minutes every afternoon with very little supervision.

I was never popular. I was an outcast. Part of this was my fault.... I was a spaced out kid, prone to saying weird things and also socially uncomfortable and overwhelmed. Lots of times I just said dumb shit that made people mad.

So, when forced outside onto the parking lot, I spent my time wandering alone.... daydreaming, watching people and trying to avoid getting abused by my peers.

One day in late February I was alone, counting how many steps I was taking as I wandered. I was lost in my own head and not aware of what was going on around me or what was coming.

Shadows appeared in front of me. A massive row of shadows.
I looked up and saw close to 10 girls forming a tight circle around me. My first thought was that I was going to be mocked or pranked. Nothing could have prepaired me for what was to come.

Kerin Frayole, a Puerto Rican girl who was widely know as the nastiest of the popular girls was leading the pack. Without a word she came at me in a rage and smacked my face with such force it sent my glasses flying from my face.

She began screaming at me.... apparently someone had told them that I accused Liz (last name escapes me) of being a bitch because she had her period. I don't recall the initial verbal assault because I was still reeling from the smack, trying to locate my glasses on the pavement.

I bent over to grab my glasses and, looking up I noticed that the first wave of this incident had drawn more people to the scene. Like, the entire 6th grade.

As soon as I got my glasses back on the girl came forward and smacked them off my face again. I raised my hand to attack back and felt my arm grabbed by the science teacher. He was outraged that I had just attempted to hit a girl. I told him that she had twice smashed my face. He didn't care.

By this point, I was being laughed at, pointed at and jeered by my entire grade.
I looked around for a friendly face and saw none. Even the teacher had joined in the crowd, listening to the girls accuse me of having started ugly rumors.

Time seemed to slow. I felt tears of rage and humiliation pour down my cheeks.... which brought a fresh wave of mockery from the crowd.

"I never..... said..... that!" I choked.... immediately I heard my words being mocked by my classmates......

I was told to go back inside.

Once in the empty classroom I allowed myself to cry it out. I felt shocked, abused and lower than I'd ever felt. Never before had I been ganged up on like that. Never in my life did I imagine how cruel people could and would be.

My teacher came into the classroom with a smug smile on her face.

"Why are you crying?" She asked.

I told her what had happened.... my side of it. The fact that I had not made these remarks and how I'd been hit in the face.... how the other teacher had seen it and not repremanded the girl who hit me..... How I felt that I was completely alone..... that I felt hated.

"Maybe the other kids hate you for a reason." She sneered. "Go to the bathroom and wash your face." ..............................

This happened almost 17 years ago. I was 12. Long periods of time go by when I forget this memory.... but it comes back every so often and I feel so sad
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