He was a mean dude in every respect, and reveled in making others cower.  I took his threat seriously.  In fact, I faked being sick in class so I could be sent to the nurse’s office.  But I never went there.  I ran straight home instead–fearful, full of terror, and paralyzed.   It took every ounce of courage I could muster to go to school the next day.

Fortunately for me, that very day another player got injured and the coach put the bully on the team. I was off the hook.  But the mental and emotional damage to me was so profound that I’ve carried it into adulthood. I shouldn’t admit this fact, but I’ve often thought about how I would exact revenge on this bully.  It turns out that he got another kind of justice.

Ironically, I often think back on sixth grade and how fortunate I was to avoid a long period of abuse as well as a severe beating.  I honestly don’t know what would have happened if it had persisted.

Exactly how fortunate was I?  Well, in tenth grade, the bully really did kill a classmate.

Read the whole entry.