We’ve all been affected by a bully. And I’m definitely no exception! Not very many people know about what I endured in elementary school. I’m not TOO affected by it but I don’t like someone to squeeze me around the neck with one arm. Now, let me explain why.
When I was about 7 years old, there was a boy who lived two houses down from me. His name was Ricky but everyone knew him as “Pooter”. I wouldn’t say he was the neighborhood bully, but he was my bully. He loved to pick on me mainly because I never stood up for myself and I was vulnerable. I can’t remember everything that was done but I do remember him pointing his B.B. gun at me in my front yard. The only thing that was in between us was the mail box. Luckily my parents saw what was going on and they yelled at him to get away and quit messing with me.
Things went on for a long time. Most of the stuff happened on the bus to and from school. I remember one morning we both got sent to the Principle’s office after he started pinching me and pulling my hair. I wasn’t in trouble, I just had to tell Mrs. Edwards what happened. Pooter in turn got suspended from the bus for a little while.
But the worse thing that happened was in 5th grade. He ended up being a grade or two behind me due to failing. Therefore, 5th graders sat at the back of the bus, You know that feeling, you’re hot shit then! Well, Pooter started with the verbal bullying. It got to be too much for me so I finally told him to shut up. He threatened to “get” me when we got off the bus. With him sitting in the mid-section of the bus, he got off before me. He waited for me by standing with his back against the bus. I got off, started walking, and as soon as the bus was out of sight, Pooter jumped me from behind and got me in a tight-ass head lock. The neighborhood I lived in at the time had about 15 kids at this one stop. And what makes it sad is only ONE girl ran to get help. She stayed with her Uncle in the afternoon on the street Pooter and I lived on. That street was the longest street and Pooter and I lived at the end of it. Michelle ran past her Uncle’s house to mine and told my mom what was going on all while the other kids stood around laughing at me and cheering him on.
I was so scared! He had his arm so tight around my neck that I started blacking out. I couldn’t get my fingers in between his hands and my neck to break the hold. And I was on my ass so I couldn’t even try to stand up. I don’t know how long he was doing this, but it felt like forever. And all of a sudden it was over. I sat there for a good while waiting for everyone to go home. I think it was also because I was scared that he was hiding and would come back and hurt me some more. I finally got up and was walking around the first of two curves and I saw my mom coming in our car. I got in and told her what happen as best as I could through the sobbing. She turned the car around and before we got to our house, we stopped at Pooter’s. I don’t think I have ever seen my mom so mad since then. She knocked on the door and I could hear her tell his mom that if her son ever touched me again, he was going to juvi.
It wasn’t long after that incident we moved across town. But the fact that I was bullied has left me sympathizing with all these kids who are committing suicide for that reason. They are trying to escape the pain! I don’t condone suicide at all. There is always a way of making it stop. Tell someone. If one person doesn’t listen, tell someone else. Keeping talking until someone listens! DO something! Don’t take yourself away from the people who do love you and what to see you be happy again! It will get better.
You are loved!
