i went to school that first day of second grade with my most amazing purchase, a bobby sherman lunch box. i finally owned something cool - something that someone else would want - something that wasn’t a hand-me-down and something that made me feel like a big kid.
until i saw her's - i don’t even remember her name - but she was in fifth grade. she was big, with greasy hair and she used to chase us during recess and she terrified me. once she caught me and put me in jail and lurched over me telling me i was in trouble. her breath stank and she had b.o. she is one of the most real people in my memory and always brings me a lot of fear and anxiety when i remember her - but she, yes she too had a bobby sherman lunch box.
crashed were my hopes of belonging, of having the envy of the girls in my class. i was somehow linked to the shame of being a lunch box twin with this horrible, stinky bully. life just wasn’t fair.
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