My mom was a psychopath (wish I were kidding), and I was liberated from her by my angel of a dad when I was 9. Still, in the nine years I was with her, I picked up some bad habits. She taught me to stand up for myself and be a tough chick. I'm a girl, so that might change how some of these scenarios are perceived.
In the 2nd or 3rd grade, I broke the nose of a tall boy that was trying to be a bully. Later he became my "#2" in some kinda (wannabe) playground gang (didn't last more than a week).
In the 5th grade, I was regularly picked on by this black kid on the bus. One day I snapped and got into a brawl with him. Not a fight, a brawl. He hit me, yes, but I plowed his head into one of the metal support beams on the bus (cheap elementry district used public transportation busses for school busses). Another time, same guy, I used the seat head rests as a position for my hands (one on each side of the isle) to hoist myself up to his level and kicked him down to the ground. I never got into trouble for those fights.
But I messed him up good.
When I was... 10 or 11? Out of my mothers grasp, I broke the wrist of my best friend at the time. I don't even remember how exactly that happened.
OH! back to when I was in the 3rd grade; I spiked peoples chairs with thumbtacks. I was a hellion that year. o_o
When I was 15 or so, a group of friends went to a nearby part that connects with the ocean beach. It was past midnight, and we were screwing around walking to the beach (full intent on making a beach bonfire). Well, I found this sweet staff-like stick. I used it to hike. We passed an apple orchard on the trail, and one of the guys started underhanding fallen apples to me. Well, I also used to play softball. So batters up! I take a few swings, then I get stupid and swing to hard, putting me into a spin. Well, this swing put my stick in path with another guy friends head, and I BROKE the stick across the back of his head! CRACK!! No serious damage, but he was holding his head hunched over for something like 10 minutes. I was very sorry. Between the sound, the feeling of the wood splitting, and his visable agony, I felt like I hit myself.
This one belongs with the 3rd grade stuff, but I'd say it qualifies for the worst wound I inflected. On the playground, we had these sweet slides. Two of them, to be exact. They were probably the exact same length, but one was raised higher than the other, and so it was deemed the bigger of the two, and provided the most thrill. I was waiting my turn, and finally got to go. I should mention, this came before any serious playground laws came into effect. We had some truely dangerous equipment on the field that recent laws have basicly banned. This slide was elevated a few feet. There was a little latter you climbed on, and a platform at the top. The platform was probably two feet above the ground (at that age, may as well been 10 feet), and the slide was 20-30 feet of fantastic decent.
So my turn came up. Well some boy had skipped the line, and climbed up the platform. He was going to jip me of my turn! (Yeah, I coulda just waited. 3rd grade, remember?) He said something that upset me ("outta the way, stupid!" Maybe? That was a long time ago), and I pushed him. Well we're on this platform, and there's really not alot of dancing room. o_o So, he FALLS off the platform, and hits the ground. He hits the ground and starts ROLLING down the 20-30 foot dirt hill. There were probably little rocks and stones the whole way down. I'm at the top just watching! He gets to the bottom, and explodes with tears.
I aborted my turn, and hid from the playground supervisors.
Of course, I got called into the principles office later, and I was very sorry. Crying sorry. I was lucky I didn't get expelled. I think I told them that I accidently bumped him when he tried to cut in front of me. I don't remember. I didn't escape my moms wrath though.
The irony is some time later durring a weekend (or summer break, holiday, or something) my mom and I were at the same playground, on the same slide, on the same platform. Remember when I said she was crazy? Well she pushed me off of the platform, and I hit the dirt HARD. I suffered muscle trauma to my face. My "smile" muscle on the left side was effected. I basicly don't have a smiling dimple on that side, because not all the muscles move. I favor half smiles.
I had a violent childhood. My teenage years and adult life have been peaceful.