Bully

Imagine your stomach turns every time you enter your school. Imagine you search for him around the hallways, and your heart skips a beat when you see a guy with a similar haircut or jock clothes. You are walking down the corridor of your high school, and he is still nowhere to be seen. But then, you see him. His sitting down on the floor, his back against the wall. Two of his girl friends around him. Then he sees you. You try to ignore him, but you can’t. You turn your head away, but something hits you hard. He threw a baseball at your head. The two girls laugh like that’s the funniest shit ever.

But this time you won’t turn the other cheek. This time you won’t shrug it off and tell yourself it’s only one more year before it all ends. This time you won’t ignore the bullying. This time you lunge at him. He is dumbstruck, he doesn’t even have time to get up. Your foot meets his face. His jaw breaks; it’s hanging now. They’ll have to wire it shut to fix it. The two girls run off screaming. He is still dazed and can’t get up. But this time you don’t stop there. You lift you foot and hit him again. This time his nose breaks , a volcano of blood erupts. You kick him again. His orbital bone breaks. One more kick. His cheekbone shatters in a million pieces. Another kick to the nose; it’s nowhere to be seen anymore, crumbled inside his skull. Just as you lift your leg for another blow, someone knock you down. Two guys jump on you and hold you down with all they got.

The girls are still screaming.

Wrestling the guys you manage to lift your head just enough to see the handy work. His pretty, charming and smug face isn’t all that pretty anymore. Now it’s a violent mosaic of blood, bone and flesh. Now it reflects what he is on the inside: an insecure, aggressive, ugly, cowardly bully.

Your ‘Chucks’ are ruined though; pieces of his nose stuck on the soles, blood soaked all they way to the socks. But you couldn’t care about that. A weird sense of pride fills you. It’s disturbing and good at the same time.

He had it coming, that’s for sure.

Rightful Punishment

This morning she told me everything. All the stuff she hid from the world for so much time. She told me all about it. How he used to kiss her; how he used to touch her; how he used to tell her he loved her.  She told me all about the thrusts and the moans. All about the cries and the pain. She bared her soul to me. Told me things she didn’t tell anyone else, secrets she held inside her all her life, secrets that drove her insane. I was horrified.

I knock on his door and wait. It seems like an eternity that I think about what I’ll do when he opens the door, but is only about 30 seconds before his smug fucking face greets me with a smug fucking smile.

“Hi, how come you are here?” he asks me.

That’s the only thing he asks, my fist lands right on his nose, sending him flying down to his butt. My foot swings through the air and hits on the ribs, hard. I can hear the air forcefully exit his lungs. I enter the house and close the door. I’ve been her hundreds of times, so I know where the kitchen is and run there. I grab the first knife I see, it’s still stained from something he was cutting earlier. I walk back to the hallway with the knife in my hand and look straight at him. He’s in a fetal position on the floor holding his ribs and squealing like a pig he is.

“Please don’t, I loved her,” he pleads for his life.

That won’t help. I stab him in the neck, slicing his skin and flesh, it is harder than I thought. It won’t stop me from another stab, and another one, and another one. I stab at him until he doesn’t move anymore. I stab him until the walls are covered in red, until I am covered in his blood. Then I take another look at him; he’s lying there dead in the pool of his blood. That’s what he deserves. No. Nothing comes close to what he deserves, hell would have been a favor for him. I know what I done was right, this was rightful punishment, in my eyes at least.

Her eyes widened when she saw me later. The blood on my shirt, the blood on my pants, the blood in my eyes. She knew what I had done, she started sobbing and shaking. She didn’t sit down or faint, she just stood in the center of the room and cried. I hugged her tight. As tight as I could.

“He won’t hurt you again. I promise,” I whispered in her ear, “You don’t have to be afraid of your father anymore.”