This time my throat and mouth were sore, there was a throbbing pain in my groin and my ankles were swollen and sore."The doctor will be in to check yo... shortly. You must rest for at least two weeks in bed for everything to heal." The nurse said. I tried to speak but nothing came out.I was restrained in the bed for the two weeks with various tubes to feed me and for my voiding.Eventually the big day arrived and the various dressings were removed."I guess you want to know what has been done to. Becky’s frizzy hair was up in pigtails and her coke-bottle glasses were slipping down her nose. She popped a pink bubble. I turned my stool to face the girl and took a deep breath and told myself that she was just another pain-in-the-ass neighborhood kid. “I’m working on some fenceposts,” I said. “You’re Rachel Finklestein’s duaghet Becky, aren’t you?”“You know who I am,” she giggled. “After all, I’m the neighborhood bully. The one that kicks the crap out of your shhhkinny wimp of a son.”“It’s. The streets in the neighborhood were not lit by street lights and therefore, the moon light prevailed. My phone rang. It was a message from Jayne. “Where the hell are you? Get your sorry ass back home or I will drag it for you.” “I am on my way Jayne.” I replied and then hurried along the alleys. As I was passing beside a blind street, I heard some shouts and screams. “How dare you spit on me. I will make a real whore out of you.” Hiding behind a corner, I peeked around it. It was Volatiz. , &/or likewise within a predominantly black vicinity area neighborhood community, talking about how he himself would beat the living daylights out of me if I myself don't turn off my cellphone, & put it into my pocket, spitting salt, or venom more, much more than a little bit, but then thank God, my Lord, & Savior, the Messiah-Deliverer that he himself didn't, or hadn't acted upon that being of his words with some, or such actions otherwise to compliment that being of a verbal threat to be.