The bully leader

My childhood was over before it began. We are picking up in kindergarten, where I tend to wonder "why me" at multiple times a day. There are about six boys in my class, all of which have a deepening lust one would never come to expect from someone so young, and I was the outlet for these emotions. I'm still not sure how I found myself cornered by them in the first place, let alone on a daily basis.

Today I was surrounded by them as the head of the group, Jason, stood apart from them, hands on his hips commanding me to remove my clothing unless I intended on being beat up. I did as I was told, it's so much like my mom's house, I don't even cry anymore. I know full well if I tell a teacher nothing will happen, if I run one will catch me, such is the way of being outnumbered. C'est la vie, right?

I stood, shaking in the cold as I removed my pants first, then my pants, glaring defiantly at the crowd in front of me. "There, happy?" I chirped, my voice matching my small frame. The leader stepped forward to touch between my thin legs.

"I'll see you later too, yeah?" I had no idea what h was talking about, if only I had. He chuckled and stepped through the line of boys towards the school house. I stood there cold, and awkward for a few moments before the bell rang out, loud and demanding. I scrambled to get dressed, an action I had become numb to, then ran to the bathroom.

We only had one large gender neutral bathroom, where none of the stalls had doors. I sat in the stall closest to the door leading into the bathroom and held it firmly covering my stall as best I could. That's when I heard Jason and his squad barreling into the bathroom, laughing among each other.

"I thought you said she came in here?!?" Jason scoffed accusingly.

"Wha- well, she did...I thought." one of the body slurred.

Hmmm, well, let's see," he feigned leaving before popping his head up to the three inch crack left by the front door into my stall "There you are!" I screamed as he tried to loosen the door from my grasp, squealed for him to stop. That's when the one boy in the group who was ever truly nice to me walked up, and grabbed the door. I allowed myself to hope for a fraction of a second, when he ripped the door free of my now frantic hand.

"NO! Please don't" I was screaming in the hopes a teacher would come, but hey never did. Jason instructed two of the boys to hold my legs open, so he could "use the toilet" I was horrified, he intended to, what, pee on me? why? I attempted to cover my privates with my hands as the reality set in, and he began to urinate. "That's fine with me, as long as you get pee on you" Jason smirked, pee dripping from my fingers as he urinated on my pants. Why?

The boys left laughing, as I his in my stall till my mom came to get me after school, cold and wet, silently crying. Jason was a boy in my class who has been launching attacks of varied severity and anguish. He came from a household that was not much better off than myself. I wish I could say I understand and forgive him, but frankly, I do not and will not. This is not a weight I carry with me now, but it is a burden I would hope he carries.