Bully

Intro:This story was written from an event with my son. It had happened as it did in the story, he being the one called on to fight. But in the twist, he had made the kid cry. I couldn’t understand why someone would choose to just fight, neither did he. So I wrote down what had happened from my son’s POV. But I still didn’t like it. I wanted to know more why, and that is when the other POV came into the story.





I hadn’t been in a fight before junior high, not a real one anyway. But even then I never intended on it. I was accustomed to being mistaken for an older student, and it never bothered me, I think it saved me from getting picked on up until now. It was a bit of a struggle trying to make it to each class. Through the swarm of students, you couldn’t help but hit or be hit by someone or something.

Tony said to just pick someone, just random, someone easy going, not for a popular crowd, after all that is who you are trying to impress. Don’t pick on someone that other people always pick on, then you just come off as a bully. “But I’m just tired of being the one picked on, just teah me some moves.”
Then he gave me that lecture about dog eat dog, and told me to just do what he says. “Pick someone you can take on in a fight, Act like he started it, then he will be the one to back down. The best opportunity would be during a class change, in the hall no on knows who bumped who, and you could throw the blame on whoever.” So I did what he said I had to do. Tony said it was how he got through school, act tough once with one of the bigger guys and they will know you demand respect. Tony never did graduate, but no one ever picked on him.
He was taller than some most of the kids our age, but lurpy. I thought I could stand up to him if I had too, so I called him out. I was tired of still being called shrimp or riff raff, and being kicked, or pushed every chance they got. It was like some joke to pick on the small kid. So I asked Tony how he made it through school, without getting harassed. Tough Voice he said, if I wanted to be tough, I had to be intimidating, or they won’t take you seriously. He just brushed my shoulder. “What is your problem?” I stared down at the back of his head. There was no reaction. Tony used to call out names to cars that pissed him off, “You think you’re special? Tough? I could take you Easy…PUSSY!” So I called him out, I hoped he would just back down, thinking I was tough. But my stomach ached as I saw him close up now. Would I be able to take him in a fight? I was scared.

Over the crowd, after a particularly rough stretch some one called over the crowd. “What’s your PROBLEM?” It was the better part of a minute before I realized he was addressing me. “You think you’re special? Tough? I could take you Easy…Pussy!” He wasn’t scrawny, average, but with his mouth you would have thought he was a senior awaiting graduation, like no one could touch him.
My mom always said I was kind hearted – the idea of picking on another person never occurred to me. “L...l...look “I stuttered, “I’m gonna be late” I turned to hurry to class.
“We’ll finish this later” I heard the foreboding threat echoing down the hall. I couldn’t think of anything else for the rest of the day, finish what exactly?

He finally stopped and looked around for me, “Look… I’m gonna be late.” He turned, leaving like it was over. I looked around quick, checking if people were watching. Not really, I had to make a point.
“We’ll finish this later!” My insides felt like they would burst. If I could have gone home sick I would, but then when I returned tomorrow, I would still be pushed around. I regretted is already. I hurried to class. Mr. Longcastle was going on about the parts of a frog.
I pretended to take the notes like the rest of the class, but I was making my own instead. I listed off every fight movie I had seen. Rocky was on top. I could picture every swing, aimed just right, although you didn’t know how precise they were til the end of the fight. But they were able to keep fighting, even when they took a hit. After listing the movies, I made notes of how they punched, the street fights seemed the most effective, but they always had a knife handy. I made a note to grab the pocket knife Tony left in his dresser when I got home.
When the final bell rang, I asked some of the big guys I knew to help me out. I couldn’t really consider them friends, they had picked on me before, but they never missed a good fight.

I had glanced at the clock; I could hear the echo of every tick. I focused on my paper.
“Cliff Howard” I had managed nothing but my name.
Mrs. Norris looked at my paper. I hoped she would tell me to see her after class. “Better hurry if you don’t want homework.”
I did my best to get through a couple more of the math problems we were assigned. I even did one wrong so I could go to her for help, but I didn’t hear anything she told me. I just nodded and returned to my desk.
The bell rang- I slowly went through everything in my back pack, throwing out old papers, rearranging folders, until I was sure it could not be cleaned any better. I headed to my locker, making a point to stop by every locker I knew; I even waited by a couple hoping to find something to talk about. I considered bringing friends with me, but what if I had exaggerated the whole thing; after all I hadn’t done anything intentional.
I left the building dragging my toes, watching as new scuff marks appeared with every step. Then I noticed other pairs of feet approaching. I looked up at Marcus, wishing for an excuse to go back inside, when I was pushed from behind,
“What is your problem?” He had brought reinforcements, which pushed me again. He just smirked as he came up and pushed me again.
“You!”

They followed me to the place were we had seen many fights break out at the school. “If you wanna push him around a little, warm him up for me, I’d appreciate it” I joked, but not really.
There he was looking down as I got close he looked up.
“What is your Problem?”
I had no problem with him, but I couldn’t tell him that, how would I look in front of these people who came for a fight? I watched the big kids push him at me, ready to watch a fight.
“YOU”
As I went to step in, he swung. He wasn’t the lanky kid I had picked out earlier. He stepped in and grabbed me, I tried to get back, but I was too busy avoiding his knee. I thought I had caught my break when his grip loosened once more, my body hung limp while I caught my breath holding the aching left side. I took a deep breath when I felt a rock hit my jaw, I gasped in pain, backing up I tried to get away. Tony hadn’t prepared me for this.

Dad and I had always wrestled. He was an Army Brat, who had boxed around with his dad. He wanted me to always be ready for a fight if it arose. It was fun with him, he would tell me where to hit for the most impact, how to pin them most effectively, and most important, how to get out of any pin, ready to fight again. Dad always said he would support me if I fought, as long as I didn’t start it- but I had to finish it.
Marcus pushed me again, his cronies pushing me back at him.
I decided to utilize dad’s advice. Grabbing his shoulders, I bent him down aiming my knees for his kidney; Dad said that a hard knee to the kidney should drop him. Easing up on my grip I felt him hang lower, I swung my arm back upper cutting him in the jaw. His back-up group understood a fair fight. I began to wind up for another swing when I heard it- weeping.
I let go and backed away, he was holding his gut crying- I hadn’t wanted to injure anyone, hadn’t he started it?

I tried to think as I wiped what felt like blood pouring off my face, later I looked in the mirror and when there was no red to be found I realized they had been tears. I made myself look up to him, something to show him I wasn’t beaten. But then I saw the group I had brought with me leaving. I should have expected it, but it was still hard to see. I thought of my list of movies searching for a good come back line, one I could possibly recover with, even if not today.
“This isn’t over”
I thought about what I was going to tell mom had happened. I didn’t want to come to school tomorrow, but she would be suspicious when I say I am sick, after looking forward to today. Then I thought of Tony, how could I face him, I couldn’t even follow his simple advice. Would he laugh at me, or help me come up with another plan? I couldn’t leave it alone, not after my final comment.
“This isn’t over”

He backed towards the school, his allies scattered, some support group. Then I heard him, “This isn’t over!” At first I laughed to myself thinking I had won, but I had envisioned victory as feeling better than this, I ached. Sure I had teased and hurt my sister before, I had even given my Dad a bloody nose, but not like this. I had hurt him, made him cry in front of his friends, had it been a fair fight?
I worried about the consequences, would I be in the principal’s office by first period tomorrow? How would I be looked at by my friends now? I never wanted to be seen as a bully- But I wasn’t going to get picked on either.
I took my time getting home. I wasn’t sure how to tell Dad so I could ensure he would still back me up.
As I got home thinking at least it was over, when I remembered Marcus’s parting words. This isn’t over…