Sometimes, the story of a lifetime started with the promise of a child…
"Hold him down and kick him!"
Five young boys crowded over a small one, each of them attacking the other, hitting him anywhere their grubby fists could reach. They were in the sandpit at the school's playground and so the small one being attacked had no way to retaliate. He had lost the fight as soon as he missed his footing and fell on his back on the sand.
"Scratch his face!" the leader of the five ordered again, and the small boy braced himself for the beating to get worse.
He just curled up like a fetus, covering his stomach, chest, and face from the punches and kicks that were given him. It didn't matter that he got hurt, as long as it's not on his face. If his visage got damaged, his parents would know for sure what happened, and at his age, he didn't want to give them trouble.
