Roses

A time when I felt like a rose was on the last day of eighth grade.  We were sitting in the P.E. room playing some game, I think it was hangman.  I usually get along with all the people in my classes, but I had never really gotten along with Martha.  I didn’t plan on getting into a fight, and don’t really like confrontations, but this one was probably unavoidable. 

        I was sitting two seats in front of her when she said something that really pushed my buttons, and I walked back and actually confronted her about.  One thing led to another, and we started pushing each other back and forth. The next thing I knew she had me in a headlock, and I was pushing her back against the wall.

        I felt like a rose that day because I try to avoid confrontations unless someone is pushing me past my limits. Then I have thorns that come out.