It was a Living Hell too horrible to even contemplate: I was alone, unprotected, and this White Man forcibly held me down with his words, words that would surely leave bruises if they were more than words.
“But why you? Why would they pick you?” he said, his words biting into my skin like words with teeth would do.
"No!" I feebly pushed back. "What about my students? They will surely fail to achieve the learning outcome of the Wake the Vote program!"
But my words did not stop him. Indeed, they only seemed to encourage him, as he brutally forced the words "Nazi Germany" into me again and again, "Nazi Germany" with each invading thrust of vocabulary.
Then he verbally turned me over and pushed his words into me from behind: "Rise to Power, Rise to Power," he said, his consonants unlubricated and raw...
Finally it was over, but his words still cover me like scars. But time has let me grow proud of these scars, because: The Students.
I am Laslo.