When I was in 3rd grade, I had a classmate that had really bad parents. Drugs, beating him and their dog up and so on. We only found out about this later though.

One day after school, me and my best buddy met him on our way home, walking towards us with a glass bottle in his hand. When he was almost next to us, he smashed the bottle, grabbed a shard and stabbed my buddy. 3 stabs into his forehead, 5 in his chest, before running away.

Thankfully he wasn’t very strong and we were only around 30 meters from our neighbors house, so my friend survived and doesn’t have any permanent damage beside the scars.

Even now it’s still unreal to me, how an 8 year old boy can play with you in school and 30 minutes later stab you with glass shards.

In case anyone is wondering, the last thing I know about that boy is that his parents beat their dog to death, got jail time for beating him and the youth welfare office took him away.

And yes, simply writing about it still sends me on an emotional roller-coaster, even though it’s been almost 21 years since then.