b3ta.com qotw
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Bullies » Post 420947 | Search
This is a question Bullies

My mum told me to stand up to bullies. So I did, and got wedgied every day for a month. I hated my boss.

Suggested by Mariam67

(, Wed 13 May 2009, 12:27)
Pages: Latest, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, ... 1

« Go Back

I was a bully
My first pearoast. A bit soon if I am to be honest.

Many moons ago when Porky was a callow 14, I was small, thin, wore glasses, had crap hair: basically a bit of an unattractive package. However I was well in with the cool kids. Yeah right. I was tolerated in their company because I was funny and always up for a laugh (have you ever noticed the coolest kids aren’t really very inventive? The ones I knew weren’t). But I digress. One of the kids at school, Huw, was rather strange. He was Welsh (although the accent wasn’t too bad as we lived in the North East), short, very hairy and had a haircut that resembled a suede brush. To top it off he wasn’t too bright in a special sort of way and had a pronounced speech impediment that gave the impression he was speaking in tongues. In other words uglier and less acceptable than me. Yay!

On the day in question we had suffered the stultifying boredom of double maths leading up to morning break. I had survived the class by burning the back of my hand with a magnifying glass to keep myself awake. There was only one solution, FIND HUW! Now although Huw was not one of the cool kids he had a rather severe tobacco addiction and was usually to be found in the boys bogs having a quick cancerstick between lessons. And sure enough there he was, enjoying in solitary peace and quiet what was probably one of the few things that kept the poor cunt going.

Only he wasn’t alone any more, he was surrounded by a bunch of predators intent on making a few moments of his day an absolute misery. There was a bit of ribbing which was designed to make him lose his temper (mocking his accent, hairiness and speech impediment usually did it) and hence in need of punishment.

Sorry, I had to take a break there. I’m not remembering this, I’m reliving it. It isn’t pleasant as you will see.

His first punishment was an arm twisting. Up until this point I had never joined in with the more physical bullying but today was my turn and at the behest of the genial and laughter filled cool kids I twisted his arm. Hard. I could hear the ligaments and tendons cracking and popping. I felt sick. Huw was squealing like a raped suckling pig and one of the more inventive chaps suggested we put his head down the toilet and pull the chain to quiet him. So I did. I crammed Huw’s head into the shit speckled porcelain and someone pulled the chain. Huw stopped squealing and started making gagging, choking noises. Quite understandably. At this point my erstwhile pals took to their heels as the bell sounded for end of break. I would like to say I was torn by remorse and helped Huw get cleaned up for his next lesson but I didn’t. I did however look at his face and I wish I never had. The haunted look of pain on his face was unbearable. A dumb-animal look that communicated his failure to understand why anyone would want to do this to him hit me hard. His shoulders slumped and he picked his bag up with his good arm. Silently he shouldered his way past me and went home.

But it didn’t end there. His mother brought him back to school, cleaned up, after lunch. I was called to the head’s office. He had named only me. Fine. I took the physical punishment (a sound caning) and was then given the devastating real punishment. I was known to all the teachers as a bright but lazy scholar, my punishment? To help Huw after school with his homework. Every night for six months. I still don’t think it was enough.

I came to know Huw rather well and he was one of the funniest most irreverent little gits I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He forgave me quickly and with ease, he was like that. I also forgave myself eventually but I never forgot and I never bullied again.
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 13:12, 13 replies)
I remember the first time you posted this.
And I still really really like it.

Goes to show people can change.

(, Wed 13 May 2009, 13:14, closed)
Yeah it's a bit shit.
My son read this the first time and called me a cunt. He also said he understood why I tried so hard to help him cope when he was bullied. I posted it this time as caution, sometimes bullies aren't just bullies and something can be done. The fact I am inherently a decent chap probably saved me. That and the fact the whole thing sickened me. My first and last attempt at bullying was a failure in the long run and a damned good thing it was too.
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 13:22, closed)
Peer pressure is a difficult thing to ignore.
Don't beat yourself up about it. *haha*
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 13:31, closed)
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 14:19, closed)
I bet that's not the last time we'll hear that this week.

OP clicked - well told and humble.
(, Thu 14 May 2009, 7:45, closed)
Would it make you feel better if you stuck your own head down the toilet, and your son took a photo which you subsequently posted on here?

It might be important for, you know, closure... guilt can eat away at you can't it?

Maybe if we ALL put our heads down the toilet and posted pictures of it, we'd all feel better about ourselves? Who's in?

URINE! (you're in)
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 14:19, closed)
I still don't feel good about it.
However I have accepted it as part of who I am and it helps me keep a tight rein on what I think of as my anti-social tendencies.
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 14:51, closed)
Just put your head down the toilet please.
(, Wed 13 May 2009, 16:48, closed)
Often do.
Shouting for god usually.
(, Mon 18 May 2009, 14:44, closed)
I was hoping you'd repost this
Sounds like you learned the value of not bullying.
(, Thu 14 May 2009, 1:14, closed)
As hard as it was to read what you did to the poor kid
I am glad that you have made amends and realised soon enough that what you did was horrible. Good on you, blue.
(, Sat 16 May 2009, 22:03, closed)

« Go Back

Pages: Latest, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, ... 1