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“Then you have to swim in the blood,” Keith growled.
He slammed the freshman’s head down into the punchbowl.
I swallowed hard.
I felt instantly uncomfortable.
Keith picked the freshman’s head up out of the punchbowl.
“How was that, guppy?” Keith yelled.
Everyone laughed.
Keith slammed the freshman’s face into the bowl a second time.
Even from where I stood I heard the loud thump of the guy’s face hitting the bottom of the punchbowl.
The freshman began to thrash.
Clawing at Keith’s hand.
“He can’t handle it!” Keith called out. “Look at him! He can’t handle it!”
You’re going to drown the kid…
My heart leapt into my throat.
I had no desire to watch this, yet I didn’t feel right just walking away.
Why?
Because if this freshman… died…
I’m a witness.
I would have to talk to the police.
Keith would be in deep trouble.
So now I faced another dilemma.
Should I rush into the kitchen and get Keith to stop?
That would only make things worse for sure.
I mean, I guess if it came down to it I could take my shirt and bra off, then run through the house.
That would certainly get everyone’s attention.
Including Keith.
Keith picked the freshman’s head up out of the punchbowl.
The poor guy coughed and gagged.
Blood poured from his nose.
Then he threw up.
