Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

then his arms fell, and I was free. I fell to the ground and
pushed him away, knocking him in the nose.
He grunted and stumbled, because I heard the shuffle of
buckets and brooms.
“Next time, I’ll be armed. And I’ll kill you,” I told him.
I began to walk away, and I heard his voice behind me.
“You might have to.”
I stopped for a second, feeling defeated. Why? Why would
I have to? Would he not stop? What did he want?
“Would you have forgiven me…” he asked, “if I’d gone
over the side of the treehouse with you that day?”
I stood there, tears burning the backs of my eyes.
I didn’t know how to answer. I searched my brain. Why
did that question strike me like it did? It seemed almost
vulnerable. It was the first moment since I’d started school
here that he hadn’t acted like an asshole.
Would I have forgiven him if he’d been hurt, too? I
could’ve died that day. I could’ve been hurt a lot worse than I
was now. My neck could’ve broke. I could’ve wound up in a
coma for the rest of my life.
And he could’ve gone over with me and been hurt and
killed, too. What would be my thoughts about him now if that
had happened? Would I be more forgiving?
Maybe.
I thought about it.
Yes. I would’ve said ‘kids are kids’ and ‘bad things
happen’. Children weren’t mature enough to control
themselves. I would’ve tried to understand.
But even if I didn’t hate what he’d done to me all those
years ago, I still hated him because of who he was now. Boys
grew up. He hadn’t.
“I should’ve known it was you,” someone suddenly
growled and I finally registered that the door to the closet had
swung open.