In his dreams he pushes back.

He is eleven years old. His world has changed so much, his understanding of his place within it crumbling away. A few weeks ago he would have been playing games on the playground. Now, because of some understanding between children that such things are cast off at a certain age, he can no longer do this. Why not, he wonders? What happened to the days where he and his friends could just play games?

He resolves not to let those days slip away, to stay true to himself, to encourage others to do the same. He gets his friends together at lunch. He tells them that they’re going to play Tag.

“We can’t,” say his friends. “We’re big kids now.”

“No,” he replies. “We’re young.” And he tags a friend.

And the game begins. And it’s fun for a while, until the Bigger Kids come. A year older than them but no wiser, they laugh mockingly. And they push him. And they keep pushing. And they kick.

There is blood. There are broken bones and hurt pride. And the games end long before their time.