The Bully

She stood eight feet tall, or at least that’s how tall she looked. She was a giant! Massive. Even immortals trembled with irrational fear when she walked by. She was huge, larger than life. We were in the sixth grade together at Stafford School. She and a few others had just transferred from Bingham School. I was amazed at how big she was. She was the biggest girl I had ever seen.

I had always thought of myself as a tall kid. I was one of the tallest kids in my class. I didn’t realize what I looked like to the shorter kids but this girl towered over me. I can’t imagine what she looked like to shorter and punier kids. She would stand up to anyone, even the biggest, most powerful boys in the sixth grade. I have to admit, I was not one of those boys. In fact, I was considered one of the biggest dorks. This made everyone want to pick on me even more. I didn’t mind that much until she came along.

It was the first day of school and she sat right in front of me. Every time the teacher passed something out she would turn around and whack me on the head. It really hurt. I couldn’t believe how strong she was. Now I had been hit before, even by some big kids, but this, this was incredible strength. I was truly terrified. Every day from then on she tormented me and even took my lunch money. She had this way of hurting me. Even though it hurt, she never left a mark so I couldn’t tell on her. Not that I could tell on her anyway. She would have killed me. I avoided her but somehow she always found me. She said, “Don’t try getting away cuz I’ll catch you. I am all that and then some with a box of cracker jacks.”

This went on for a long time. By the end of the school day I would be starving. I would come home from school and stuff my face with food. My parents started asking questions. “Are you eating at school?” they would say. Of course, I said, “Yes.”

After a few months she had the whole sixth grade in the palm of her hand. No one dared to stand up to her. The teachers were even afraid of her. When my teacher asked her where her homework was one day, she replied, “None a your bizness.”

The teacher immediately backed off.

Then she said, “I thought so!” I couldn’t believe what control she had over everyone. Then I thought, Oh my God! What are her parents like? My mind became filled with thoughts of Hitler and the Nazis in Germany. She is going to take over the world and destroy everything. I can picture it now somehow she become principal of a school. She marches each class down into the dark, disgusting basement where the children are subjected to mutilation. If that doesn’t happen, she would probably end up in a state penitentiary. Even there she would dominate. What if she actually slips through life and her tyranny isn’t stopped. What if she has a child? Gasp! I told myself she has to be stopped.

Then one day everything changed. The day started off normal; she tormented kids and took their lunch money. Then came my turn. I sat at my desk. Class was just about to begin. She made her way toward me. She punched me in the shoulder and said, “Where’s your lunch money, Dork!”

I said, “You’re not getting it today.”

“What?” she shouted.

The class went quiet. I stood up and raised my voice. “I said you’re not getting my money today!” I clenched my fist, took one punch, and then hit the ground crying because my hand hurt so much. She took my lunch money, again.