We were 8 years old. I was the new kid, again. She was the class bully. She was at least a foot shorter than me. Her name was Amanda, and I was terrified of her.

For some reason, she invited me over to her house on a playdate. I didn't want to go. My mom made sure to stay close by in the kitchen, with Amanda's mother.

We began playing a game, I don't remember what, but I was winning. This sent her into a rage. She chased me around, screaming, throwing things. She tore the room apart. I told her to relax. She pulled a drawer out of her parents’ desk and threatened to crush my skull with it. I yelled for my mom and was promptly taken home.

Later that year, our teacher invited the "big kids" (age 10) to help us with our math. We sat at a large table, each paired with a big kid as our partner, counting beans. Amanda sat next to me. She shoved a bean up her nose to impress us. It got stuck and she had to be taken to the nurse's office. No one was impressed. She died.*

*Not really. But maybe, who knows?