Playground Justice

The batter connected, and I tried to run. But the first baseman gripped my ponytail. I broke free somehow and sprinted toward second. I pictured a clump of my blonde hair in her fist. Although I made it safely on base, I was furious! Softball was sacrosanct, and you had to play fair. Lacking an umpire, we officiated ourselves. And this cheater was pure trash.
When I was up again, I slammed the ball far into centerfield. As I rounded first base, I kicked her unsparingly across her lower legs. She yelped and played the victim. But we both knew that she had it coming, and that justice was served.