Queer bent bastard

It was at that instant that my mom came running into the ER. A few seconds later, a nurse came in and spoke to the doctor. In another few seconds, Mom was standing beside my bed, holding my hand and asking me and/or the doctor what had happened, how I was and a bunch of other questions. Within an hour, Mom and I were on our way home. I had a bump on my head and pretty good bruises on my hip and left arm, but that was all. I was, as the doctor said, very lucky.

On the way home, I told Mom everything that had gone on before my close encounter with the Mustang. She was shocked that Jason would do such a thing. Actually, furious is probably a better term. After we got home, we talked about it some more. Not just about Jason, but about school in general. There were three weeks of school left before finals. Mom contacted the principal and explained everything to him. As I was in my senior year and all our finals were provincial exams, he suggested that since I had an eighty seven percent overall average, I could stay out of school, except to write my final exams. Mom and I agreed that would be the best alternative and we both thanked him very much. Mom would pick up my books so I could study. I would only have to go to the school three more times, and not for three weeks. Hopefully, things would have blown over by then.