the dirty Money

I remember those two boys, I remember their names and a certain traumatic event in elementary school.  True story.. Stanley tried to take my shoes, and I kicked him in the face.  So he stabbed me in the leg with a No.2 pencil, and in desperation, gave me $5 to not cry or tell anyone.  Nicholas was his accomplice, and I never told on them.  I think they thought I was tough, because I didn't cry, I felt empowered, when actually I was more scared if I did tell and my mother found out I'm "fighting".  Anyway, I dreamed I was on the playground, which is a lot full of dirt and rusted poles assembled for us to climb or swing from.  I used to bring a random handful of Legos in my pocket to school, limiting myself to make anything with whatever pieces fate had chosen.  I also had to explain to the teacher that these Legos belonged to me, and I wasn't trying to steal the classrooms cheap-ass MegaBlok knock-offs (haha).  Anyway, back to the dirt.  I had taken out my Legos and was feeling pretty excited, Lord knows I loves me some Legos, then Nicholas approached me.  I felt irritated, because I had to hide my Legos from him, and not because I believed he would take them but for fear he would publicly make fun of me.  I tried to distract him until I could put them back in my pocket.  I asked him why he always wears white, because in high school he used to wear plain white t-shirts, baggy white denim pants and white K-Swiss shoes.  He said because he believed that's the only way to get into heaven, and I made a face, which successfully distracted him from my Legos, because now I was in for an ass-whooping.  Stanley joined him, and I found myself re-living that actual event, pulling a No.2 pencil out of my calf.  The wanna-be thugs were spooked, and proceeded to act genuinely concerned of my wound.  Stanley offered me money to not tell the teacher, and I made more faces of pain and agony, yet it was all good.  It hurt but I knew I would survive and dream about it when I grow older.  I ask him "What if I get lead poisoning?".  We're like educated adults having a conversation, in child bodies.  He says "You won't, there's no lead in pencils. Only graphite and wood."  Blackmail, I could buy more Legos... "No!... There's lead in the yellow paint, dipsh*t!"  I get more cash, and tell him I won't tell if Nicholas helps clean up the blood with his white t-shirt as well.  He does, and as they left I remember a sudden bad feeling coming over me, I felt distraught for taking advantage of them on my end, and decided to bury the cash in the dirt.  However, the guilt didn't pass because I next thought, "Oh no... what if Nicholas goes to hell because he has my blood on his shirt?!"  That's all I remember.