But there's no guarantee against injury

Once when I was a little boy...
I lived in an apartment building on the outskirts of a rather smelly town (a pulp mill was the town's main employer). Behind the building there was nothing but forest, or so it seemed as I wasn't allowed to venture too far in. Not far from the playground there was a little pond that was frequently the cause of my feet getting soaked. I don't know if it occurred to me that I was completely defeating the purpose of wearing rubber boots in knee deep water. It did however, occur to my mother who was never fond my coming home with water filled boots and wet socks in near freezing temperatures.
There weren't a lot of other kids my age in the building but there were a few and we all knew each other. I can still remember meeting my first best friend. My mom and I had recently moved in - one day we were coming home from somewhere and I saw a little blond haired boy who looked to be my age. I was not normally very outgoing but the the first thing out of my mouth when I saw him was 'wanna be friends?' And that's all it took.
In a way that building, high up on a hill, was like a little bubble. It wasn't a place anyone would go unless they had a reason. I was greatly surprised then, when out of the blue, a rock hit me in the head while I was out playing with my friend. Never having been hit with a rock before I wasn't even sure what happened. It didn't take me long to figure out as another one hit me and then another.
Standing behind me was a boy who I had never seen before, and would never see again. He didn't go to the school I went to, didn't live in the building and was so silent in his approach that I hadn't heard him coming towards us. He had a pretty good reserve of rocks with him and I seemed to be the main target. I asked him to stop but all I received for my troubles was another painful pelting. At this point I decided I would fight fire with fire and picked up one of the rocks from the pile accumulating around me. I threw it with anger and conviction but I did not throw it with good aim. Having played baseball for two years I should have been able to throw it at least somewhere near this mysterious boy who materialized only to taunt me. Instead I missed him by many feet, but did manage to break a car's windshield. At this the boy laughed - which was far more enraging then the rocks and took off. I also ran home but the owners of the car saw me and my mom received a phone call later that night.
I sometimes think about that moment in time. If there was ever a case for the existence of some sort of woodland imp who took delight in the misfortune of others I think this may be it. Of course it is possible he was the child of someone visiting but he ran off into the forest and no one else ever saw him.