The Bully

The Bully

3:30pm, the siren in dulcet tones blares for the last time, its closing, school’s out. The sound is met by a thousand but one voices, all rushing out the narrow school gate, kids rushing home to be pampered by tired parents. “It’s time to go home” the graying teacher reminds the lone boy sitting motionless in the middle of the class, “it’s closing, go home” he persists. “Just a moment” the boy calls, “I am not yet done, I have something to take care of.” “Don’t be long; the janitor will lock up soon and I am expecting your homework on my desk first thing Monday morning. “S-sir, the boy sputters faintly, I have to tell you something”, ”What is it?” the teacher asked annoyed. "It’s nothing sir, nothing at all," the boy replies quickly, flustered.

The school breathes its last and all is quiet, the boy slowly and barely makes it to the door, shaking all over, chanting “I can do it” under his breath like a mantra. He pokes his head out the class, looks left, then right, no one in sight. He lets out a pent up breath and leans against the door, for some time, he then draws himself up, rushes to his desk, grabs his books and rushes out. The exit beckoning, the gates wide open, his lips slowly stretching in the beginning of the smile, he finally makes it out of the school, “safe” he mutters, chuckling softly.

Faint laughter echoes his chuckle, its then followed by clapping. It's him, it’s the bully. He is sitting just outside the school. He gets up and stretches, lazily, all the time smiling. "You should see your face," he calls to the boy, "priceless. i had hoped that after the first beating you would have learnt your lesson," he says, shaking his head and laughing. Logically and in his head, the boy had fought the bully a thousand times and won, but on a more realistic and very physical dimension, he had tried once and it ended badly to say the least. Knowing that the bully wasn’t a bully to reason with, he discarded logic and tried once more to redeem his pride. Without warning, the bully charged, the boy briefly saw the rapidly approaching fist before his face caught on fire, the pain more than enough to test his resolve, he quickly gathered his resolve and set his plans of revenge in motion. With the bully towering over him and already gloating the first part was easy. he pulled a classic, he kicked him in the nuts and then connected his knee to his nose when he doubled over. he went down with a sound, bawling like a baby. As he lay there writhing in pain and flinging curses and promises, the boy ran. today, he had succeeded, he told himself, and as he ran he tried not think about tomorrow.