It's been going on for a long time. Me, being picked on by the 'druggies.' I guess druggies is what I call them; I can't think of anything better. You know, those people who wear the sideways hats and pants so low that they shouldn't even bother wearing them in the first place. The people who's vocabulary cannot consist of any more then fifty words, and who have intelligences not much higer than that of a peanut. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to stereotype here, I'm not trying to say all people who dress that way smoke and are stupid, but these are the people who have done this to me. Who have tried to make my life utterly miserable. Who have accomplished no more than get me a short vacation from school.
It started up recently in school on Monday. I was walking back to my Science class after lunch, and as the halls in the school get terribly congested, I usually wait to go after the crowd, when the commotion has died down a bit. I've never been late to class for this. In fact, I get there before most of the other kids, wierd as that may be. However, on Monday, there were two of these such kids in front of me, fighting. No, not really fighting. Play fighting, you know what it's like. Holding their arms up and jokingly throwing a slow jab. However, as they did that, they barely moved. I tried to squeeze past them, to go around, but it wasn't vry easy. I gave up and pushed right through the two of them. I'm a good student; I always try to get to my classes on time, and I wasn't going to let two roughhousing punks stop me.
Of course, they did. I had pushed through them, intent on simply continuing on to my class. One of them however, said soemthing which I don't recal hearing very clearly and grabbed at me. In reaction to what I saw as an attack, I turned around and punched him in the face. Not too hard, I wasn't planning on hurting anyone. Just enough to tell him to back off, you know. He muttered soemthing and backed off, as I continued on to Science.
Now, you may be thinking that I overreacted here. I admit that I may have. However, consider that for the past two years (much more so during my freshmen year than my sophomore), these people have taunted and ridiculed me to no end. For the most part, I have ignored and let most of it slide. This time, though, I don't know, something just clicked and I snapped. That's only the start of it, though.
The rest of this day was fine for me, Xcept for a few 'druggies' in the back of my bus who made fun of me and threw stuff at me the entire way home. This, however, was nothing unusal. The next morning, though, a certain 'druggy', a kid who I have had conflicts with before, chose to sat next to me. I always sit near the middle of the bus, not wanting to sit with them in the back but not wanting to sit in the front because I'm a Junior, and it just wouldn't be right. This kid decided to sit next to me, in hopes of getting a reaction. I'd never given them the kind of reaction they were hoping for before, and I certainly wasn't going to now. He started talking to me, whilst I (as always) listened to my CD player, hearing every word but completely ignoring them. At the next stop, he moved to the empty seat behind me, so he could sit up and put his head right next to my ear, taunting me more, egging me on.
"What are we doing punching people, you freak?"
"How'd you like it if I punched you in the face, you little punk?"
"I'd kick your ass any time, don't mess with me."
I, of course, wasn't messing with him at all. In fact, the kid who I had stuck the day before wasn't one of this kid's friends, as far as I knew. But gossip travels, I guess, and the kid on the bus wanted to make some more. Didn't happen. I ignored him completely, even when he started punching the back of my seat (which, I must admit, felt like a very nice massage) and throwing things at me. When the bus stopped at the school, I immediately went to the principal and told him about it. He had apparently head nothing of the punching incident the day before, so I told him about it (which he told me was a very honorable thing to do, admitting my own crime like that). He said that he'd look into the bus situation and overlook the thing on Monday, about which he said 'there were no witnesses, so let's not mention it unless we have to'.
For the next few days, things went as normal, other than a bit more taunting and ridiculing than usual. With two fgroups of 'druggies' hating me now, I'm sure that they had a very entertaining week. Tripping me, pushing me, throwing things at me, calling my name every time I walked by, giving me 'flat tires' every other step I took. Somehow, I managed to get through most of the week. I managed to ignore it all. I figured, after one push that knocked me off my feet, that they've had their revenge and were done with me, so I didn't bother reporting it. I was wrong. The immature bastards hadn't been fulfilled yet.
Today, Friday, one of them walked behind me from lunch, giving me a 'flat tire' every step of the way back to my class. He and his friends had a few laughs pushing eachother at me and pretending to trip on me. I ignore it. A friend of mine who I was talking to at the time, moved behind me and walked behind me rather than beside me so I couldn't talk to him. (later thinking about it, I realized that he moved to subtly stop those kids from pestering me, and I realized what a great friend he was) However, he ahd to go his separate ay to get to his class. I turned a corner to head to my own class. This hall was always relatively empty, and as I walked down it today, I and the same kid who had been stepping on my shoes the whole time were the only ones there who I saw. The entire corridor empty, and he followed right behind me, stepping on my shoes, breathing down my neck, snickering at me. Finally, after one 'flat tire' that nearly made me stumble (I had gotten quite adept at learning to walk through these over the week, but this time he kicked my heel as well), I spun around and knocked him in the face. He stumbled back, and I was content to continue on, as I didn't want it to escalate further. He, however, had other plans. He came up behind me and grabbed me. I fought back, of course. My backpack slid off, I knocked his hat halfway across the hall.
You know the way school fights are portrayed in movies, right? The bully says 'be here,a fter shool, three o'clock' and the two kids meet and have a pretty little fistfight within a ring of kids.
Real fights are nothing like that. He grabbed at me, I grabbed at him, we punched, kicked, slammed, elbowed, but for the most part simply tried to knock eachother down. This fight didn't last for any longer than a minute, as a teacher (a teacher who I had had freshmen year and had liked rather well) came out of a nearby classroom and broke it up. I noticed him look at me with amazement and a shred of pity, and at the other kid with disgust. Soon the assistant Principal came down and took me to the Guidance office, where I was placed in a office by myself for a while to 'calm down'. I knew that I'd be in trouble, I knew that I shouldn't have done it, but I also knew that I had in a small way, served justice.
Then, something completely unXpected happened. The fire alarm rang. I heard the sound, and looked up at a small flashing bulb, but assumed it was a drill and held my place. Not being in a regular class, and having been told to 'sit here foir a while until someone comes to talk to you', I didn't know what to do. After a minut or so, a passing guidance counseler told me to come on out. The school was being evacuated, just like a regular drill. Not knowing were to go as I was in trouble at the time, I sought out the first authority figure I recognized: the vice principal, and asked him where I should go. He told me to stick with him for a while, until he borught me to a nice guidance counselor lady and told me to wait with her. As he left and I began to tell her the situation, a kid came over. Right away, I though 'oh no,' because he was walking with a purpose and from the look on his face and his attire, he was definitely one of the friends of the kid who I had gotten into a tangle with about fifteen minutes before.
"Don't you fucking mess with us, punk!" He screamed, pointing at me. I looekd off into the sky and the treeline in the distance, completely ignoring him. "I know where you live, and I'll fucking mess you up! Don't go home today, you little fuck!"
Of course, this sort of thing, loudly and in front of the entier school and staff (who had by now all evactuated the biulding), wasn't the brightest thing to do. He was taken away by five or so teachers and I haven't heard anything about hims ince, other then a mention of arrest from the principal.
As the entire school waited outside on or near the track field, I suddenly noticed that my shirt was ripped near the collar. I shrugged, and buttoned up the shirt I was wearing over it (coincidence? The only day I wear an outer shirt, the inner one gets ripped!). I stood with the faculty, away from the rabble that was the students. Feeling definitely superior, I was apporached by at least three other teachers who told me they had heard the threat and were going to write a referral. I kept optimistic throughout the thing and joked around a bit with 'at least it's a nice day out' and such. One of my favorite teachers in the school, whom I had had last year, was with mea dn the guidance lady for the majority of the hour spent outside, and I joked around with him a bit, mostly about the fire department not knowing what they were doing and how we might as well leave.
It turned out that there was a small electrical problem or something in the gym and we were all allowed back inside. Flanked by teachrs, I was the first student back in the building and was escorted back to the office. As we walked back to the school, I distinctly remember hearing some of the 'druggies' asking the teachers why I got to walk ahead of them and be treated special. I shook my head, thinking 'they already forgot?'
I waited in the office for over two hour. A few times the principal or a guidance counseler would come in and see if I was allright, and ocne the shool'c police officer came in and said something about handcuffs and the possibility of being arrested, but for the most part I was just bored. I played Tetris on my calculator for an hour or so, and the rest of the time read the nutritional facts on my tic-tacs box. Finally, after the princiapl called my mom and spoke witht he other students, adn the final bell of the day had rung, I was told that I couldn't go on the bus again, for safety reasons. About half an hour after the last bus had left, I was told by the principal that he would drive me home. Apologizing for making me wait, he offered to stop by Dunkin' Donuts or something on the way back. I politely declined his benevolent offer. On the car ride home, we talked a bit. He mentioned that he had seen me with my girlfriend this year, and was proud of me for having adapted well to a school that I had had a very hard time with in the first year. He said that he saw me as the 'good guy' of the whole event and completely sympathized with me. A few times he said how he had admired me for putting up with it as long as I had.
I was told that I will be suspended from school for five days, namely next week. The other kid whom I fought will be suspended for at least that much as well. At least two or three of these 'druggies' will be punished, and as many as six will be dealt with. He mentioned that there may very possibly be arrests made.
I got home somewhat satisfied. Proud of myself for having gotten into a fight (which I was winning, I may add), no. Of course I wasn't happy with my actions. I knew they were bad. If I could go back in time and do it again, though, I'd probably do the same thing.
But why was I satisfied? I was suspended for five days, I had no idea what my girlfriend or mom and stepdad were thinking, and there was a possibility of being grounded (no computer or Six Flags with my girlfriend on saturday!), but I was still satisfied. I had served justice. I had shown them that I will not be messed with any more. Six or maybe even more of them were in big trouble.
If we were in an epic war, with thousands of soldiers on each side, for every one of my people killed, six of theirs were killed. In a large-scale war, that adds up. A huge victory for me. There were sacrifices, yes, but there always are in war. A huge victory for me; a huge victory for justice.
