Nikki Williams

“But then Mr. Knox caught him. He noticed that Clem wasn’t in the fields when he was supposed to be, and he found him up at the house, his ear close to the window. He saw all the words written in the dirt.” “What did he do?” Thomas glanced at Henry. He hadn’t meant to tell this part. He tried never to think about it. “He whipped him.” Thomas closed his eyes, trying to stop the flood of memories — the thwack of Mr. Knox’s whip, Clem’s shouts of pain, the sight of Clem’s blood-soaked shirt. “Clem couldn’t walk for two weeks.” “For learning to read?” Henry said, his eyes blazing with anger and shock. “Yes, sir,” Thomas said.”
― Lauren Tarshis, I Survived the Battle of Gettysburg, 1863

“The next morning, Roy traded seats on the school bus to be closer to the front door. When the bus turned onto the street where he had seen the running boy, Roy slipped his backpack over his shoulders and scouted out the window, waiting. Seven rows back, Dana Matherson was tormenting a sixth grader named Louis. Louis was from Haiti and Dana was merciless. As the bus came to a stop at the intersection, Roy poked his head out the window and checked up and down the street. Nobody was running. Seven kids boarded the bus, but the strange shoeless boy was not among them. It was the same story the next day, and the day after that. By Friday, Roy had pretty much given up. He was sitting ten rows from the door, reading an X-Man comic, as the bus turned the familiar corner and began to slow down. A movement at the corner of his eye made Roy glance up from his comic book—and there he was on the sidewalk, running again! Same basketball jersey, same grimy shorts, same black-soled feet. As the brakes of the school bus wheezed, Roy grabbed his backpack off the floor and stood up. At that instant, two big sweaty hands closed around his neck. “Where ya goin’, cowgirl?” “Lemme go,” Roy rasped, squirming to break free. The grip on his throat tightened. He felt Dana’s ashtray breath on his right ear: “How come you don’t got your boots on today? Who ever heard of a cowgirl wearing Air Jordans?” “They’re Reeboks,” Roy squeaked. The bus had stopped, and the students were starting to board. Roy was furious. He had to get to the door fast, before the driver closed it and the bus began to roll. But Dana wouldn’t let go, digging his fingers into Roy’s windpipe. Roy was having trouble getting air, and struggling only made it worse. “Look at you,” Dana chortled from behind, “red as a tomato!” Roy knew the rules against fighting on the bus, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. He clenched his right fist and brought it up blindly over his shoulder, as hard as he could.”
― Carl Hiaasen, Hoot

“But then Clem was taken, and those pictures went dark. Just thinking about Clem gave Thomas a searing pain, even worse than the lash of Mr. Knox’s whip.”
― Lauren Tarshis, I Survived the Battle of Gettysburg, 1863

“here was Ulysses, sitting in a shoe box, knowing that there was a shovel in the trunk of the car and that the man driving the car had been instructed to whack him over the head with the shovel, and the squirrel didn’t look worried or afraid. He looked happy.”
― Kate DiCamillo, Flora and Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventures