His face scrunched up before he pushed me. I stumbled and fell on the playground. He laughed, snatching my blue and red train from my fingers. He ran off, moving it through the air like an aeroplane.
I scrambled to my feet, ready to chase him.
No. Wait until lunchtime, the voice whispered.
Why?
Because you can show them all.
Show them what?
He didn’t reply.
I waited.
All that time knowing Rhys had my train. I grew angrier and angrier until my head hurt. At lunchtime, he set it on the table. Other children touched it. It was my favourite—small enough to fit in my pocket.
Now.
I stood and walked to his table.
He saw me coming and grabbed the train in his grubby little hand. My head hurt, and I felt angry—but not like any other time. I climbed onto the table and thrust my hand into his chest as hard as I could.
His chair skidded across the polished floor. His scream made me happy. When his legs came up, he toppled over. There was commotion. Blood.
I picked up my train from the floor before the grown-ups reached him.
I slipped it into my pocket and went to finish my lunch.
They never let me.
I was called into the office and had to wait for my parents to collect me. I told them what happened. But no one saw Rhys push me in the playground.
Now his head was broken.
I shrugged and ran my train over my grey trousers.
???
Mum brushed my hair from my forehead and kissed me there. I smiled, breathing in her perfume before she stepped back.
“Sleep well, Blaidd,” she whispered, sliding the book onto the shelf and switching off my lamp.“Love you.”
I was about to reply when I saw Dad standing in the doorway. The light in the hallway behind him should have made it harder to see his face, but I saw everything. He still wore his trousers and shirt from work.
We stared at each other.
He was angry.
“Love you, Mum,” I said instead, tugging the covers up.
It didn’t take long for him to start shouting. Well—it wasn’t shouting, but it felt like shouting to my ears.
“How long before you realise there is something wrong with that boy, Alys?”
My mother continued washing the dishes. I could hear the water splash as she scrubbed them.
“Are you listening?” Dad hissed.
