I had gotten to know the police a bit on my own, all before I hit 7th grade. An [at risk youth] I probably was. Most of my issues with anger stemmed from my household situation, but severe bullying did not help. Often times it was my insistence in being included in male only games or situations that led to taunts, teasing and sometimes rocks. The worst was when I was hanging out after school , maybe sixth grade and things got heated and some boys picked up stones and started going at it. The nicest old man was walking his dog nearby and rushed over to fend them off. These were bad kids, so they just started throwing the rocks at him and his dog instead. He was hit in the head and then fell, his little white dog nipping at his heels and him not moving.
I was crouched nearby as some other people came running up. Of course those mean lil bastards of boys blamed it on me, and the other well meaning people kept their eyes on all of us as they called the police. I'm sure I was screaming at everyone in fear and terror, worst reality realized, I REALLY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG. The cops and paramedics came, and the police were ready to take me back to the station and "sort things out" when thankfully the old man woke up and told the paramedics he was trying to help me, and that the kids had turned on him. Luckiest moment of my life, I felt at the time.
Another run in resulted in an actual APB. On the playground, 6th grade, I was spun a little tight and was sick of taking any kind of shit. Some boys kept kicking my ass on the playground, and when I would turn around they would run. So finally I used that super intuitive strength I like to tap into from time to time, and just as he kicked I whirled catching this boy's foot and leg as he aimed to cause me pain I thought. The look of shock on his face and the surprise were satisfying, but when he fell backwards and his leg rolled out in an awkward angle I was horrified.
Seemed like a silent movie on that playground right then, and the teacher in charge that afternoon came running. She screamed at me to go to the Principal's office, where I'd been a couple too many times before. I told her to calmly Fuck off and left. Ditching elementary school wasn't hard at all, school was surrounded by easy access trails on all sides, so I ran to the closest nearby hill that would take me down and away. Didn't know where to go from there, we were living in that motel at the time which was a long walk away. Doug was closer, so I went to visit him. I knocked on the door and found him inside, working on something or other. He invited me to sit, surprised to see me but not too. He didn't ask me what I was doing there, just talked to me a bit. Telling me how horrid my mother's behaviors had been, how he wanted to buy me some roller skates. All of those memories of me wanting that father place to be wonderfully held by him, those hopes came back. As I looked around the dirtier house and saw his crazed dishevelment, sporadically shaved face and filthily stained clothes caked with dirt, mud and food bits…I changed my mind. I told him goodbye and left, going on my way…just walking down the street, thankful to have escaped.
As I turned the corner on to a main street, a police car went by and I dropped my head cause I figured it might be wise. Car slowed down and turned around coming back, but I kept on walking nonchalantly. Officer pulled up along side me and said, "We've been looking for you, I need you to come with me". I told him I would go anywhere as long as it wasn't back to school, where the Principal would be really upset with me. The officer told him he'd make sure there wasn't any trouble, everyone just wanted me safe. This concept of safe, I shuddered on the inside. But he was a nice officer and I got in the car and he took me back to school. Years later in high school, kids would tell me how they got called in to describe what I wearing and what I looked like. Seems that very day, there was a report of two men discharging shotguns in the air near my school. On the paths that lead from school to my house. Funny enough, I did hear the shots inside my roaring head as I walked over to Doug's. I stopped in my tracks, at this point facing paranoia at it's best…then the shots stopped and I kept on walking. I didn't see anybody and I figured if someone really wanted to kill me, it's not like I was going to stop them.