Inside a Bully Part 1

Inside a Bully Part 1

                As I look back on some of my scars in life, I find that I can correlate them into more recent events. This memory had to have been when I was 7 years old. Josh and I went to a friend’s house. Unfortunately, this friend of ours was a sister to Kyle Clifford. Kyle had to be, in my opinion, rank 3 on my hit list with Eric on the top. We had property borders with the Clifford’s backyard and our backyard. So we went over one day because we heard Ashley Clifford with a friend playing on their Jungle Jim. We probably played around for no more than 10 minutes when Kyle and the gang of others with him came. Eric, Ammon, Kyle, Steven, Sam, and Kyle Tryon slowed to a stop as they took in our existence. I don’t recall any exact words in this memory but I can remember my feelings. They instantly spoke out against us. We were told that they didn’t want us around. They began calling us names that kind of hurt me but hurt Josh more. They kept this going for about a minute with Eric and Kyle leading in these taunts. We were having fun and didn’t want to leave so we just said no and avoided their play space. I believe they were throwing a football around but that didn’t last long. They, with a surplus of flat balls in their backyard, began throwing them at us, telling us to leave in mean ways. By this time the girls left, and went inside. Now it was just a matter of whether we were going to listen to them or rebel. So, we replied by throwing balls back. We were outnumbered and outgunned. There were 6 of them and we couldn’t throw them as hard at them because they were all at least a year older than me. This, of course, gave them even more ways to put us down. Then they succeeded some way or another with a couple of hits. I think they coordinated an attack all at once. All I know for sure is that we got the trash kicked out of us. Eric was the most violent of them all and had hurt Josh. After getting hurt, we gave up the fight and were walking back to the border line to climb over the wall. They knew we were done and had let their guard down. I remember the feelings of injustice of the whole matter and acted rashly. We were about to get to the step, but there was a football and a flat basketball. I grabbed the football, knowing I could get the distance with it and flung it as hard as I could. This sadly meant that all of my accuracy went down the drain for power. It missed Eric by a good bit, because of what he had done and actually took joy when he saw us in fear or sadness. I had to give it a try and got all the insults I deserved for missing so bad. As they finished and began conversing amongst themselves again, I turned and looked at Josh. He whispered something like, “I’m going to try.” I grinned and told him to run home right after he threw the basketball. I never really thought he would hit him but I knew that if anything happens, I was going to take the fall for it. I remember the ball fly even now to this day. Even the warnings his friends made as the ball fell strait onto Eric’s face. He turned right into it and I was the one he saw with my arm in the position of an “after throw” arc. I just held it there and laughed quietly. I never looked back at what happened after Josh threw it. I couldn’t because of Eric.

 His face turned red as he screamed and bolted in my direction. I only had enough time to straighten myself up and spread my legs. Now I’m sure you all might think by now that Eric looks like some big, bad, piece of trouble, but the truth was quite contrary. Eric had a growth disorder which lead to so much hate towards us younger kids. He was about my height when this all happened and was probably ten pounds heavier than me. The problem though, was that those ten pounds were in his arms and legs. He came to me with his right foot first and slammed into my side. I caught this foot and maintained my balance. His left fist however, claimed all of his momentum into my right eye. This blow surprisingly didn’t hurt near at all. This had to have been the first time I felt the influence of adrenalin so strong. After getting hit, I backed up a step or two and took a better hold of that leg of his. I began dragging him, then lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. I, being quickly affected by rotation, had to stop. I flung him about two to three feet away from me and turned back to my borderline. I heard him land hard and already begin getting up. He was getting up in my direction too. My head was still spinning and I was a little wobbly in my retreat but I got to the step just as Eric got to me. I grabbed the top of the wall and flipped over it. Just as I was rotating over the top, I saw the hate on his face as he grabbed at my feet. I had a crappy landing and got a sticker or two in me as I ate dirt. It didn’t matter though, because of all the adrenaline in me and the fear that he was going to hop over the wall too. He stayed though, right on top of that wall calling out to me even meaner than before. I trotted back to my house after that and don’t remember a single thing after that. I do remember them calling out at me, “Hey Jacob, how does your face feel?!” days later though. That wasn’t very cool.

                I think this story has gone on a little too long and will finish my thoughts for next week on what I’ve learned from this. In short, I learned from this incident that violence isn’t always the answer. I knew I had a problem with these boys. On the contrary, I feel that a certain amount of violence is necessary. Throwing back at them in retaliation sent a necessary message. We will not bow down! It seemed to say to me. Throwing the football and basketball broke the peace of our defeat. It showed that we wanted to start war. In this case it was disgraceful to have us swine striking out at them. In return, Eric proved his superiority the best way he could for himself, for his friends and for me. I put him in a situation that caused him to act. Reactions are ok so long as you don’t overdo it. Going over the boundaries can only cause trouble. People like Eric may have trouble as his objective. The feelings of weakness might be in him for his height. He may be self-conscious and can’t stand it. So finding the only way to suppress these feelings, he may cause others to feel even more self-conscious of their weaknesses. This puts him above someone and allows temporary comfort that sadly will never fully be quenched. For deep down, he knows that he caused that and that he is worse off because no one had to cause him to become self-conscious. He did that to himself. This hatred of mine tends to center itself around that attribute. I hope I don’t end up like them for this, and hope to eventually burry that hatred. For, there are ways to overcome self-doubt without creating an example of another. There are friends to lift you up and family to help you stand your ground against the tempests life throws at you. I just fear that one some people might choose the worse path and take it out on someone like me.  It’s a barrio that I can’t help but make. It’s illogical, I know, but I can’t help holding on to these scars.