I remember when I was a kid, I had a few friends who were bullied mercilessly. I was a tiny little girl with almost zero percent body fat. You know what happened to those bullies?
I beat the absolute shit out of them.
There was this one friend, a boy, who was fairly husky. Now, back then (A whopping 20 years ago) it was pretty uncommon for a kid to be overweight. He was picked on day in and day out. When he came to me crying one day, I asked which kid was telling him that he was a piece of shit. He told me this kid Brian (fuck his privacy) was basically torturing him. I walked up to this kid, who was at least twice my size, and pushed him on the ground. I stepped on his stomach and asked him to apologize to my friend.
He said “No.”
I grabbed his throat and told him to repeat that.
He gurgled, “No.”
That was two chances. I had enough and I threw his head on the cement, straddled him and started punching him in the face while accentuating every word: “I. SAID. TO. TELL. HIM. YOU’RE. SORRY!”
Through a broken nose, black eyes, and a bloody mouth, He spat out, “I’M FREAKING SORRY!”
That wasn’t good enough.
I slapped him and told him to rethink what his apology was for and actually mean it.
With tears in his eyes, he said solemnly, “I’m sorry (insert name of my friend). I didn’t know how much I was hurting you.
I got off of him and told him that if he said a damn word to anyone that I did this, he would end up in the hospital for good.
To this day, he never once mentioned that I was the one who beat him up. He told his parents and teacher that a middle-school group of boys came onto our school playground and beat him up for his snack money. Smart kid.
