This story takes place back when I was around the age of 5…when I got into my first, and only fight. I went to a school that took care of the needs of the disabled, and the classroom was equipped with 2 sets of parallel bars for the kids to walk on…when it was playtime, or anytime we weren’t doing class work. They were so fun to walk on, I always thought that if I let go, that I would be able to walk on my own after..I also felt that way anytime I walked in the pool. Anyway, this one day I’m walking on the bars minding my own business, when all of a sudden I get knocked down. I couldn’t believe it…this kid named Stefan Marshall is on top of me, lightly punching and yelling at me…to this day I have no idea why he did it. While he continues his assault, I keep trying to get him off me or try to hit him back. Thank goodness I have long arms, because during my struggle I see a toy fire truck near me..I get a grip on it, and I hit him in the face with it. At that moment the blood starts coming out, and he starts to cry…I am pretty sure I did too, because we both got in trouble and they called our parents..not exactly Brad Pitt and Edward Norton, but fun to share nonetheless.