Bullying

The Victim

1942, Brisbane Australia

Sobs shook the teenage boy’s body. His cries echoed around the empty classroom. His knees were tucked underneath his chin with his arms wrapped around them. He was in the darkest corner of the room. There were probably rats there but the boy didn’t mind. Amongst the shadows, he was almost invisible and he liked it that way. It didn’t bother him if someone didn’t notice him. He liked the darkness. In a time like this, the darkness offered him comfort. It also let him forget about the outside world. The outside world was tied with reality, and right now, he didn’t want to face reality.

He was supposed to be outside, hanging out with his mates. No one was supposed to be inside the classrooms. Not that they weren’t allowed, but they didn’t want to. It was summer. The classrooms were hot and people preferred being outside because every once in a while, a breeze would come along. His friends were outside. They would notice his absence but so far, none of them had entered the building to come and find him. Even if they did, he had no excuse on the tip of his tongue to tell them when they found him crying. He didn’t want to tell them the truth and burden their shoulders with more weight. They had enough on their minds. Their fathers were out on the front line, fighting in World War II for the Australian army.  Just like his father.

Grief raked his soul once more as fresh tears streamed down his face. He let out a choking cry. He had cried so much over the past few days. He was still surprised that he still had tears left. His mum held him after the officer left. He came by to tell them grave news. The officer’s words haunted the boy.  “Your father was a great man. He sacrificed his life for a greater cause. You should be proud of your father, son. He served in the military for eight years.”

His fingers trembled as his bottom lip quivered. He felt more tears build up behind his eyes. He didn’t want to accept the truth because the truth hurt. He didn’t want to face reality because reality was harsh. The officer told him to be proud of his father’s achievements. Even though he knew he should, he just couldn’t accept it. He just couldn’t accept the fact that his father was no longer going to come back from the army. He couldn’t accept the fact that his father was no longer going to be the head of the household. He couldn’t accept the fact that his father was gone. He was gone and was never going to come back again.

Abruptly, the door opened. A group of boys stumbled inside, laughing at something that must’ve been funny. The boy didn’t personally know them but he knew that they were in a higher grade. He shrunk into his corner, desperate to turn himself invisible. The boys stooped around a minute, scanning the surface of the desks for something.

“Hey, are you sure you left your book here?” one of them asked.

One of them looked up, “Yeah, I’m sure it’s here.” He was taller than the last guy who spoke. None of the other boys dared to look at him in the eye. They all kept their gaze down to the ground. It was obvious to all who was the leader. The others were just his mere followers who didn’t know any better. All of them began to search for a book that their leader left behind.

“Hey, isn’t there a kid in the corner?” one of them pointed out. The boy felt his heart drop. This was just what he needed.

The other boys asked where he was. They couldn’t see him. Their leader had forgotten about his book and there was a strange look in his eyes. The boy hurriedly wiped his tears with his sleeve. He would be teased for crying. Even though it was a time of war, no one cried except for the women. Every boy was expected to be strong and not give any signs of weaknesses. Crying was a weakness.

“Oh, look what we have here,” their leader drawled, evil delight filled his voice. He crept closer to the crying boy’s corner. The other boys all followed their leader. They all advanced towards him, almost like a predator stalking its prey. The boy did his best to creep further into his corner but he had nowhere else left to go. He was cornered. He couldn’t escape. There was no way out. He hoped that it didn’t look too evident that he was crying.

The other boys could barely hold their glee as they came closer. They cracked their hands and whispered things like, “Oh, a weak crying boy.” All had sinister smiles on their faces. Shivers ran down the boy’s spine. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He knew who these people were. They were in an older grade than him and had an infamous reputation for bullying younger students.

He stood up, almost falling down again. He didn’t want to meet them today. It was a bad day for him. He didn’t want to have to deal with them today. Some of the boys looked up, slightly protesting. They asked him why he was standing up and walking away when they had just gotten here. It sickened him. He tried to make an escape by slipping past one of them. He was skinnier than most of them. But they were quick. They were quick enough to notice what he was trying to do, and blocked him off before he had gotten anywhere.

Everything after that was a blur for him. All he remembered was being pushed to the darkest corner of the classroom. Now he regretted sitting there in the first place. He remembered trying once more to escape but they pushed him roughly into the wall. He remembered fear taking over his senses. He remembered them calling him weak. He remembered them calling him unmanly for crying. He remembered them calling him a child. He remembered tears falling from his eyes. He remembered telling them to stop but they didn’t listen. He remembered begging them to go away. His memory failed him when his body was punctured with the first blow. All that he remembered afterwards was the faint traces of red and black.

The Bully

1981, Wales England

She watched as families came to drop their children off at school. She saw them all say goodbye to their parents through the car window. Some of them had smiles on their faces, grateful they had families that could afford to drive them to school while others adorned scowls, obviously annoyed at their parent’s embarrassing public display of affection. She watched as they all made their way to their lockers or either met up with their friends along the way.

They were so lucky. They still had families that loved them and cared for them, unlike her. She didn’t have that. But she wished for it so bad. She wished she had a family who took her school, or even a family who said goodbye to her as she walked out of the front door. She wished that she had a family who wouldn’t shun her and ignore her. She wished she had a family that would listen to all her problems. She wished she had a family that loved her and cared for her, just like others did.

She wished she had a father who wouldn’t turn a blind eye to all her problems. She wished she had a nice stepmother who could become a mother figure to her. She wished her real mother was alive. She wished her father never remarried. She wished her step-mother would stop using her father. She wished her step-mother would run away with one of those many men whom she brought home. She wished that while her step-mother was sleeping with one of those men, her father would come home early. She wished her father would come to his senses and kick her step-mother out and divorce her. She wished for all these things, but none of them were going to come true.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around. It was a girl who looked younger than herself. She was probably in a younger grade. She was standing on crutches but her foot seemed fine. “Where are your parents?” she asked timidly.

Of course, the older girl thought and mentally slapped herself. To the younger girl she must look stupid. She was sitting all by herself at the pick-up and drop-off zone with no friends or parents. She must look like a loner or at least, someone who was extremely uncool. She took a better look at the girl who had a concerned expression on her face. She looked like she was happy. Happy that she had a nice, loving family while others didn’t. The older girl felt an unfamiliar feeling rise in her stomach. It felt sick and poisonous, almost like acid. She didn’t like the feeling that consumed her. It made her think that the girl knew what her family was like and she was purposely rubbing it in her face.

“Why would you care?” she couldn’t take out the edge in her voice as she replied to the younger girl.

The girl looked a little taken back before muttering under her breath, something about being concerned and people not appreciating it. She looked annoyed. She looked back up and instantly plastered a smile on her face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that her smile was fake. She pretended to laugh it off, insisting that it was nothing. She grabbed her crutches and turned around to walk away. The older girl noticed that when she walked, there was a little hobble in her step. Was she disabled?

That weird feeling came back again and the girl didn’t like it. The younger student was disabled, couldn’t even walk properly and she was showing off in her face that she had a happy and warm family, unlike her. The older girl caught up to her. She didn’t want people to think weirdly about her. The other girl was obviously annoyed. She did owe her an apology for acting a little bit rude.

She wasn’t sure what happened next but she remembered taking a few steps up to the girl. The next thing she knew was the girl was lying on the ground, her crutches out of her reach and her body sprawled in an awkward position. The other girl gasped. She felt a different feeling overtake her mind. It wasn’t the ugly feeling like before. It was a pleasant feeling that she liked. But there was something wrong with that feeling; it was generated from looking at the other girl in a helpless position on the ground. Ignoring what she was feeling, she quickly bent down to help the girl up. She apologised profusely. The ugly feeling was back again.

The girl looked up and asked her if she could retrieve her crutches for her. The other student stood up from her as the fallen girl offered her a smile of gratitude. As soon as she stood up, she found that the nice, pleasant feeling was back again. The ugly feeling wasn’t there anymore. She had felt the nice, pleasant feeling before. It was when a guy came over and teased her friend for her appearance and she punched him in the face for calling her friend mean things. It was the feeling of satisfaction for getting back at someone.

She almost smiled but then stopped herself. She felt almost evil. She wasn’t supposed to be smiling at someone else’s pain and have the feeling of satisfaction overpower her senses at the sight of someone sprawled on the ground, helpless in their current position. Her mother would hate for her to be like this. But even so, she liked the satisfaction. It felt good to be more superior to someone else and to know that she was the only person who could help the girl right now.

The other girl’s smile of gratitude froze on her face when she realised that the girl was not retrieving her crutches like she asked. “Could you please give me my crutches?” she asked desperately. She looked uncomfortable in her current position and was desperate to get off the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the girl turn around and made her way in the direction of her right crutch. She watched the girl heading towards one of her crutches but not stopping at it. She looked at the girl incredulously. She wasn’t picking up the crutch. Instead she was walking away. Was it because she didn’t know what a crutch was? Or was it because she didn’t want to help her?

The older girl felt a little guilty, leaving the other girl lying there like she had. She had caused the girl to fall and she wasn’t even helping her get back up. She had a conscience that was telling her to go back and help the disabled girl. But there was another part of her that was telling her not to. She didn’t know what possessed her to walk away but she knew that it wasn’t something that was morally good. One side, the good side, told her to do the right thing and help the girl like any normal human being would. The other side, the dark side, told her to continue walking away and take satisfaction in the fact that the other girl was completely helpless. She turned around and saw the girl’s face. She was horrified. Something rose inside of the older girl that made her feel almost powerful. She smirked. The dark side won. 

The Bystander

2013, Colorado, The United States

There were people in our school that most didn’t dare cross. One of them would be Marie. People don’t cross her not because she was scary and because she could exact revenge in the most horrible ways, it was because of who her father was. She was her father’s only daughter. While that might seem insignificant, it wasn’t. Why? Because she was the principal’s daughter and he loved his only daughter to bits. From a young age, everything she wanted was given to her within the snap of her fingers. If she didn’t get it, then she would give her father the silent treatment for days. It would break her father’s heart and he would do everything to give her whatever it was that she wanted.

She was spoilt. Maybe that in itself was an understatement. She was used to things going her way. When someone spoke out against her, she took it seriously. Instead of trying to understand where the person was coming from and trying to change herself into a better person, she went mad and started to taunt whoever it was that dared to stand up against her. Some of the student body would join in on the teasing and taunting. The rest of us were on her side but we didn’t join in. We stayed on the sidelines and watched everything unfold before our eyes. You could say she was a bully. If the victim didn’t apologise after one week of taunting and teasing and everyone ignoring her, then the student stopped coming to school and everyone figured they were expelled. Even though Marie never confirmed that she was one who made all those students get expelled, it was easy to tell that she was behind it all.

I couldn’t remember myself why I had befriended Marie in the first place. I was the new student and she had approached me. I thought that she was nice and I figured I could use a friend. When I saw her true colours, I realised that I was associating myself with the wrong type of people and tried to find a way out. But like her victims, Marie never let friends turn into ex-friends easily. There were others like that but they ended up not turning up to school. They were expelled. Not that I didn’t mind getting expelled, it was just that saying that I was expelled from a private high school didn’t work too well in my favour when it came to job applications. So I stuck to her and made sure that I never crossed her. If I was ever expelled, my parents weren’t going to be too proud of me. But either way I was still uncomfortable with what she did and how she acted.

I was one of her ‘best friends’ and therefore, got the privilege to see everything first-hand whenever she bullied someone. But even when she did verbally bully all those people, I never said a thing and just watched from the sidelines. There were more than a few instances when Marie had questioned me as to why I didn’t join in ‘making them apologise’. I simply told her that I didn’t want to ruin Marie’s fun. In a way it was true. Marie loved to bully her victims. She understood and hugged me and said that I was the best friend ever.

Today, Marie told me that she was going to make sure the new girl, Natalie, apologise to her for speaking to her so rudely. It was break and there were no teachers around. We were in the hallway and Natalie was trapped between the students that had come to watch on both sides. Marie stood in front with me and her new friend, stood on the other side of her. Marie was there looking all smug and I could see that she was enjoying all the hurtful comments that were being thrown at Natalie. Marie didn’t say anything. Those few that loved to join in on the bullying were saying negative things about Natalie.

If I thought about it then Natalie was a nice person. Seeing as it was her first day at school, I was assigned to be her buddy. To be honest, I was more comfortable around Natalie then I was Marie, despite the fact that I had known Marie for years now. Everything would have been fine and our friendship would have continued if I hadn’t asked her to sit with Marie on the first day. That was where everything went downhill.

I felt guilty. I was the one who caused her to be bullied. And I felt even worse for not telling someone about it. But I couldn’t tell the teachers. They wouldn’t listen to me anyway. I could tell my parents. But they would complain to the school and the school would do nothing about it. I could tell the police. Then I remembered there were students who were expelled going to the police. The police had immediately looked into it but no one dared to speak up against Marie and as a result, there were hardly any eye witnesses. There were plenty of them, but none were willing to speak against Marie. Everyone was scared of her, some more than others. It was easy to tell who was just scared and who was absolutely petrified; it was shown in how much they wanted to participate in the bullying and how much they sucked up to her.

I looked in front of me, at Natalie. She seemed unaffected by all those who bullied her. She was strong. She almost regarded them with a disinterested look. It was almost like she had no feelings or emotions so that she couldn’t be emotionally hurt. But I knew better. She was hurting on the inside. She told me that the only reason that people bully was because they were insecure about themselves and they put others down to make themselves feel better. Even though she knew that, I could still tell that the hurtful comments being said about her hurt her. She wasn’t looking their way. She was looking my way because I was the only friend she had at the moment. She was pleading for me to do something to stop all of this.

Natalie was the first real friend I had had in a long time. Whenever I made friends with the other girls, they all ended up being bullied or eventually expelled. The truth was I wasn’t true friends with Marie. She thought I was but the truth was far from it. I know. I’m not stupid. Marie uses me. She makes me do everything so that she doesn’t have to dirty her own hands. That was at the beginning. Marie was always in a group of three: her, me and the other girl who was constantly getting replaced. The new girl who just joined the group was made to do everything by Marie, for Marie. It was stuff like carrying her books to and from class and following her around like a lost puppy. Thankfully, I was past the 'lost puppy’ stage.

Natalie looked at me with tears in her eyes. She was telling me to do something. She didn’t blame me for all the bullying that she went through every day but she was going to blame me if I didn’t do something to stop Marie and all those who sucked up to her. I didn’t know what possessed me to do it but something did. “Stop it!” I shouted. Everyone’s voices died down and everyone stared at me incredulously. I looked at Marie; she gave me a confused look. She had no idea what I had done but everyone else did. They knew that I had just defied Marie, the girl who could turn my life upside down.