Bully (A Short Story by Tiffanie Minnis)

Being smart is not the easiest thing for me. All of the other kids in my class pick on me because they say I think I know everything. It’s not my fault that reading the dictionary and watching the Discovery Channel excites me more then watching Ben10 and Phineas and Ferb all day long. Besides, if you live in my home you’re lucky to even have the chance of watching at least 30 minutes of T.V. My mom always tells me “ Be a leader not a follower. You already have two strikes against you just for being born a black male and I refuse to let you get caught up in the system.” I never knew what she meant and I still don’t but I hear her say this everyday. Even to my friends that come over. I beg her not to do it but she does it anyway. It’s embarrassing and I get picked on daily at school for it. Nobody wants to be my friend. They all laugh at me. I can hear the snickers and giggles as soon as I enter the classroom and the moment I sit down in my seat, that’s when I get hit with the spit balls and balled up paper. I raise my hand to ask permission to use the restroom. I never really use it though. I just sit down on the toilet seat, rock back and forth and smear my glasses with my silent tear drops. I just want to be liked by all the other cool kids.

I try to blend in with them. When I get off of the school bus in the morning, I roll up the left leg of my pants and sag my pants by taking off my belt, just enough to show that I’m wearing brand new Spider Man boxers. I put on this cool walk where I limp with the right leg and slowly drag my left leg as it sways forward. The kids laughed a lot harder when I did this. They said I looked like a geeky dork that has no swag. I lowered my head towards the floor and swiftly walked away. “ I don’t understand why they won’t like me.” The first thing my mom ask me when I get home is “ How was your day in school?” I tell her fine but my day is never fine when it comes to the bullies that taunt me daily. The only exciting thing about school is when my papers are returned with the infamous huge red letter “A.” Why won’t I tell my mom what’s going on you ask?” Because she is crazy. I know she will go to the school and try to beat those kids up. I love my mom and I don’t want to see her go to prison for hurting those poor kids. I wish my dad was around. I need a male figure to talk to but I have no idea where he is. It’s okay though. My mom tells me that I’m the man of the house and that makes me feel quite alright. When I’m done with my homework, I write. I write to hold back the tears because I’m actually tired of crying. I’m not sure if its feasible but I actually feel some sort of stress. A stressed out 9 year old?! Well, according to the definition word for stress: mental, emotional, or physical strain caused, e.g. by anxiety or overwork: I’m emotionally strained from anxiety because I overwork myself by trying to fit in and be accepted by my peers. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t as smart as I am. I mean, I can rattle off any word in the dictionary from memory. Who can say that at this age? I intentionally failed all of the test I took to qualify for the gifted program. They were easy like those women that walk the strips late at night but I didn’t want to be in advanced and gifted classes. Do you know how much torture that would have been for me? I already dread getting up in the morning for school because I have to face a world that doesn’t want me to be apart of it. The thoughts of my clothes eating my lunch is just a small part of my Monday-Friday hassles. Yes I said my clothes eat my lunch meaning I get food thrown at me everyday while I’m sitting and fuming quietly at a table by myself. I eat a free lunch and my mom doesn’t pack lunches for me. She says “ We’re on a budget so packing a daily lunch for you will cost more money on groceries. I’m doing everything by myself so free lunch helps me out more then you understand baby.” I guess I’ll have to endure being laughed at because I’m forced to eat cafeteria food without chips or cookies for a snack because mom can’t give me a few dollars since it cuts into the food budget.

About two weeks ago, my English teacher gave us a critical thinking assignment. The instructions were to think of a negative situation and come up with a way to make it positively work for us. We had the whole week, including the weekend, to have it done. I instantly knew what I wanted to write about but I didn’t want to reveal how broken and sad I was feeling inside. So I decided to write about bullies becoming friends with everyone they picked on from a general point of view. Of course, I did well and received an A, but that assignment changed my life. I settled on applying some of those strategies just to see if I could change the way I was being treated by my bullies. The next day in class, after the assignment was turned in, I decided to try my luck. Bill, my most hated nemesis, stood up to make his way towards the restroom. His pants were sagging as usual so I decided to have a talk with him about the way he looked.
“ Hey Bill? May I have a word with you for a second?”
“ What do you want goof troop?”
I laughed “ I just wanted to tell you that you have doodoo on your underwear. As a matter of fact, you have doodoo stains on your underwear everyday and everyone sees it when you don’t wear a belt. I wanted to tell you but you were always so busy picking on me, or throwing pencil erasers at me or tying my laces together so that I can fall or….well you get the point. All I’m saying is what you think is cool really makes you look like a fool. Let me walk behind you to the bathroom so no one sees and when you get in there fix your pants.” He stood there with a look of disbelief and obliged to my suggestion. When we made it to the restroom, he went into one of the stalls and fixed himself. When he came out, he had tears in his eyes. “What is the matter with you?” He replied “ Thank you. Thank you so much. I never had anyone to stand up to me the way you did but you didn’t embarrass me even though you had the perfect chance to do so. I’m so sorry for everything I did to you. The reason why I bully you all the time is because my oldest brother beats me everyday when I get home. For no reason. Just beat, eat, beat, wash dishes, beat, clean my room, beat, beat, beat! My mom doesn’t seem to care. My dad is no where around for me to run to. I can’t control my bowls because my level of worry and stress has broken down my immune system quite a bit. The doctor says it’s a normal condition called Bowel Incontinence, but only I really know why its happening. So my only outlet is to do what is done to me.” I’m thinking to myself, “ Did he just say outlet? He’s not so dumb after all.” I was lost for words as a feeling of sadness became the emotion I felt after what he just told me. “ I don’t have much advice to give you about the relationship between you and your brother but since I know that your mom works at night, maybe I can explain to my mom what’s going on and she can have a talk with yours. My mom is real cool too. She’ll even let you spend the night a few nights out the week. But you gotta be on top of your homework and reading is a must in my house.” His eyes widened and glossy from excitement while he nodded his head up and down on the double.
“ Oh yes! That would be great. Could you please please please do that for me?!”
“Sure that’s not a problem but first and foremost no more coming to school looking like a vagrant. You must wear a belt and ironed clothes for crying out loud. I’ll help you with your homework so that means if I’m going to put in any valuable time to help you, you better not get any grades lower then an A!” For the first time ever, amongst my fellow peers, I was in control. It almost felt like the roles were reversed and I was now the “bully.”
Weeks went by and Bill and I became pretty close. My mom had that talk with his mom. It was needed because she started to pay closer attention to how Bill was being mistreated by his older brother. She claimed that working the graveyard shift made her really tired so she didn’t put in as much time at home with the boys like she is suppose to. My mom also agreed to let Bill spend the night two nights out the week and on the weekends as long as his behavior changed and he wore his Good Nights Underpants. I began to gain popularity at school through my new found friendship with Bill. Everyone was scared of Bill, even the other bullies. Everyone that use to pick on me wanted to be my friend now. I couldn’t believe it. It felt really good because all I wanted was for the other kids to like me and now almost the whole school kisses my Jordan tracks in the dirt. Bill continued to bully people. I joined in on the bullying too. I couldn’t let my best friend do all the bullying alone. I wanted in on some of the action and I felt a need for pay back.

One day I took my allowance money and bought a bunch of belts from the dollar store. We carried them in our back pack to school everyday. Whenever Bill and I would see another boy student sagging their pants, we would approach them and “bully” them around. Bill would grab them by the collar of their shirt and say “ Why are you walking around showing your underwear? Do you know what sagging really means? If not, look it up but in the meantime pull up your pants and put this belt on.” I would hand him a belt from my backpack and Bill would ever so kindly make these boys put on a belt. It’s hilarious. Then he would say “ And I better not catch you walking around these parts sagging again boy! You got that?” They would just nod their heads rapidly and run off. We would high five each other while cracking up and make our way to where we needed to be. I’m more of the classroom “bully”. I make everyone shut up and listen to the teacher when a lesson is being given “ How do you expect to get a good grade if you too busy running your mouth about a boy or girl that don’t really like you or just plain ole non-sense that will not help you get a scholarship to an ivy league college? Therefore, I’m gonna need you to shut up and pay attention. And when the grades come back neither one of you better not get anything lower then an A! I mean it too!” They listen to me. They better!
About three weeks ago, Wednesday morning, I got off of the school bus and wasn’t greeted by Bill. He usually waits for me at the bus stop in the school yard whenever we don’t ride the bus together in the mornings. He never showed up for school. That shocked me because when we spoke that night before, we had to hang up a little early because we wanted to get enough rest for a test we were having in our Social Studies class that day. A counselor came into our class around 2 o’clock because she needed to speak with the whole class about some tragedy that happened to one of the students. Three other students were absent from the S.S class that day so I didn’t expect to hear what I heard.
“ Good Afternoon students. I have an announcement to make regarding one of your peers. Bill Thompson left to be with his angels at 12:45 this afternoon. The police is currently investigating the situation a little further but the reporters are stating that he suffered a broken rib cage and internal bleeding from a blow that was delivered from his brother last night. I wanted to make this announcement because I am and will be available for the rest of the school year to all students that feel the need to drop by my office and talk about your feelings on what happened. Please do not hesitate to come and see me. It’s been all over the news today and it will be for a while so again, please come in and see me if you need to talk. Thank you.” My body went numb and all I kept thinking to myself over and over was “ She didn’t just say what she just said right? This can’t be true.” The whole class, including the teacher, didn’t say a word and make a move for about 30 minutes. The bell rang for dismissal and we all sat there for about 5 minutes before the first person got up to leave. While I was walking down the hallway, everyone was staring at me as if they wanted to come and console me but instead they gave me my space. I walked home that day. It was a long walk but I didn’t care. I needed the fresh air because I didn’t know what to think or feel at that moment. When I finally reached home, my mom ran to me and gave me a big hug. With eyes swelled with tears, she asked if I were okay. I nodded yes and went to my room and shut the door behind me. I laid there and cried for the remainder of the night. I cried every night for the last three weeks but in the midst of those tears I found strength and a vow I have committed to keep:

“ Bill you are gone but you will never be forgotten and as long as I have breathe in me, our “Bully Movement” will be forever enforced in remembrance of you. Rest In Peace Bill. Love you always!”