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| All over the world, throughout history, there are stories of injustice. Compared with some historic stories, the one I witnessed was rather minor, but nevertheless, I remembered it. It happened on the bus ride to our after-school program. The victim was Aiden. It was my first day of kindergarten, and he was going to make sure I got off at the right stop. Aiden was a fifth grader, but despite the age difference, he was my friend, and my protector. The perpetrators were boys his age and grade level. Because I was four, there wasn’t really anything I could do but watch. I was horrified that someone would do such a thing, and afraid they would do it to me, or someone else I cared about. Although that was about ten years ago, and I no longer know Aiden, the incident stuck with me.... |
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