When I was five I won a joke competition at a holiday camp. There were 15 kids in the competition and I came first. I think it may have been the first time I'd ever won anything ever. I got a gold plastic medal on a piece of string and the whole room clapped at me and I had to tell my joke again and then everyone laughed.
I wore my medal for the rest of the evening, telling everyone I encountered about the joke I had told. I was showing off a bit. I had some cola cola and got a bit giddy on the sugar. I met a group of kids a bit older than me and told them about my joke. They said that party games were better than jokes, so I followed them to the stage where a man dressed in a bright green outfit and silly hat was playing loud music about animals from a ghetto blaster. We played musical chairs and a smaller girl got pushed over by one of the older boys I'd met. Her parents took her back to their caravan, crying. None of us noticed. We were racing to be first. I got pushed off the final chair by the older boy, he pushed me really hard and I hurt my shoulder. I refused to leave the floor even though I was out and he had won. I told the grown-ups that I should have won, I already won the joke competition was was therefore the rightful winner. And he'd pushed me. And it hurt. I started to cry, big, heavy sobs. I attached myself to the leg of the chair. No one could move me. My parents ran over and I put up a fight, but eventually they pulled me off the chair and we left.
Fifteen minutes later, I was asleep.
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