‘Oh Shit’, she howled in pain.
She remembered the fateful day; it came to her in vivid images – disjointed but in order and slow-motion.
She and her classmates playing ‘hit and run’ where one throws a board-duster full of chalk powder onto somebody’s face and then runs for their life. She laughing after throwing the duster right on his mouth. Taking a break to drink water from her solid, sturdy Milton bottle. He coming for his revenge with the duster despite her announcement of a break. His presence so close to her, she could smell his sweat. He throwing the duster with so much force that his face becomes contorted like an ugly monster’s. Him missing his aim with the duster but his hand coming down on the bottle which then hits her teeth like a hammer.
She had that image etched in her memory when her front tooth that had shattered diagonally, went flying out. She stood there for a few seconds, blood in her mouth and looking into his eyes. Her rage knew no bounds and she didn’t realize when her hand came in contact with his face.
She doesn’t remember anything after that. Her classmates told her that she was rushed to the doctor and that she had slap-punched him. Her tooth is fine now, all fixed by a dentist 30 years back.
This is something that really happened to me in school :), with a little bit of exaggeration of-course.