I thought I understood why I was bullied. Just some arrogant kids wanting to ruin my day, I thought. But how could someone truly know what that bully was thinking? How could we know, really, as to why they chose to do what they did?
So I started asking questions. You could say I'm bothersome, never quite wanting to stop when I've been beaten done.
I pushed so far, for so long, wanting to GET bullied, just so I could ask questions like "Why?" For months this continued, my mother even threatened to take me out of school for showing up home each day with a bruises and bloody noses.
But when I saw no hope... everything changed.
My regular bully, Sarah, a much larger girl with lots of muscle and long blond hair, had grabbed me by my shoulders one afternoon after third period. I thought she was going to punch me, or sling more insults like, "Emo freak," "Emo slut," but instead, she pulled me aside and said," Can't you take a clue?! I CAN'T stand you. Why do you keep bothering me?"
This was a change in her, I could see. She looked tired, lost, but still angry. I shook my head at her.
"I want to know why you bully me." I said plainly. And that's when it happened. The tears began to roll down her chubby cheeks, she leaned against a locker and stared at me.
"I'm sorry." She whispers, turning from me and running down the hall.
And guess what?
Sarah and I are great friends now. After what happened that morning, I had gone to Sarah's house and asked to talk to her. Sarah explained to me how her mom was never around, her dad was a drunk and had no job.
Sarah had to work two jobs after school just to keep the house running.
I did feel sorry for her, and I did forgive her. I was surprised to find myself closer to her after that and she even spent the night at my house.
You think you understand what a bully is thinking, but believe me, was I surprised.