The 8th

“I forgot,” I said, “you’re the big man aren’t you? You’re the one people should be afraid of. You’re the one who calls the shots and controls the classrooms and corridors…Those who don’t like you, or follow you, you set about destroying…You and your little gang. You think you’re something special…You really do, don’t you?” He leaned back on his chair so that he was resting on the back two legs of the chair only; the front legs completely clear of the floor. A defiant expression on his face. I smiled at him. I have to say, had the situation been reversed…Had he been the one with the gun pointed at me. I’d have been trembling. I’d have done anything he asked to save myself from getting shot. Is he brave or mentally retarded? “Well, I guess we can come back to you…You know…When you’re ready to come forward,” I said.

“Long wait,” he muttered. A cocky glance to his surrounding friends. Little show-off.

“Well — long enough for you to start feeling better,” I said. His defiant expression turned to one of confusion. I flashed him a smile and then hit him in the face with the butt of the handgun. His nose cracked and split open as blood immediately gushed over the table he sat at. One of his friends, a dark haired jock to the left of me, made a move as though to take me on; a move which stopped when he came face to face with the barrel of the gun. “Be smart,” I whispered. I backed away from them…Back towards the front of the class…Back to where I could see everyone.

“Please stop!” Mrs Price begged.

I shook my head. “These people…They made my life miserable…They didn’t stop. I asked them. David asked them. They never stopped. Even when we asked you for help…You turned us away. Remember that?”

“Had I known…”

“We tried telling you. You didn’t listen!”

“I would have stopped it.”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?”

Thinking about hindsight I wonder whether I made things worse, for David and I, when I initially spoke up. Would things have turned out differently had I stayed quiet like Craig? David never said the general level of abuse had gotten worse because of me but he was the sort of person to keep that sort of thing to himself. Maybe it wasn’t as frequent before I came? Could ask him. Doubt he’ll answer.

“This isn’t the way to put things right,” Mrs Price continued. You’d think she’d shut up but obviously it’s against her nature. “They can get suspended…Expelled even…”

“You really think they care whether they’re in school or not?

The third, fourth and fifth days were easier. They were even quite pleasant. Mainly because the back row of our class was empty as Piers and his friends didn’t show up. I’m not sure where they went and I don’t really care. Their absence, probably due to the beating they gave David and I. No doubt they were scared to come in, expecting a one to one with the Headmaster; not that David and I told anyone what had happened. Sure, we were asked but…We figured…It’s done. It’s over. Move on. Hopefully Piers, and all, will move on too.

By the end of the third day, I was comfortable enough to make my own way around the school without needing David showing me everything but I still hung around with him. Definitely one of the good ones. Who knows, when I leave this school — as, no doubt, I will as soon as dad says we’re moving away — maybe, just maybe, this is a friendship that will stick. Be nice. Normally, when I move on, friendships are quick to disappear. That’s always disappointing.

“I’m sure they’ll care,” said Mrs Price as she still tried to convince me that grassing the bullies up was still the right thing to do.

I shook my head again. “Do you know what they say about you?”

“I don’t care…”

“You should. Half of them want to fuck you…Disrespectful to both you and your husband…The other half…They think you have a cock…”

“Playground stuff…”

“Not denying it…”

“What?”

“Show us.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous.”

“I said show us…Prove they’re lying,” I pointed the gun at her.

“What have I ever done to you?”

My mind drifted back to the numerous occasions she made me, or one of my classmates, feel stupid in front of everyone else. We’d stand there, after she told us to stand, and not be able to do a damned thing to stop her from tearing us apart over the slightest thing. Talking in class, no homework, poor homework, not paying attention, not getting the required pass mark on one of her many surprise tests…Anything could set her off. Sometimes it was justified but most of the time the dressing down we received was over the top and probably against the school’s policies. I wonder if the school actually has any policies, thinking about it.

“Come on,” I said. “We’re waiting.”

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want to make you feel as little as you make us feel…”

“I make you feel little?”

“You know you do and, more to the point, you know when you’re doing it. You always have the same wry smile upon your face.”