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Young Writers Society


I Beat the Bully!



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Tue Dec 06, 2011 7:12 am
samii27 says...



Today, like so many other days, I pleaded for my mum to let me stay home from school. Once again, my screams were left unheard. And so here I am, standing outside the school gates trying to talk myself into walking inside for another day. Today will be different, I told myself. But even that had no effect. I had told myself those four words every morning of my schooling life and everyday those words were kicked into the mud and trodden on. But what else could I do? What else could I say to myself? Oh, don’t worry Leah! Today is going to be the same as every other day of your miserable life, so don’t bother telling yourself any different. Because telling myself that would so help me out.
So with my patched up backpack and my hand-me-down shoes and clothes, I stepped through to the dark side. Immediately I spotted Tara May standing a little distant away near the path that I had wanted to use. Standing with one pale leg propped up on a bench crowded by ten or so boys, her school skirt pulled up high around her waist, left no imagination for the boys. All of the boys’ eyes seemed to be transfixed on the pink lace where the top of Tara’s legs met. I could hear Tara’s shrill voice teasing the boys, “Come on Daniel! I know you like what you see! My parents are working late tonight…” The other boys were nudging and punching Daniel in enthusiasm and jealousy.
Quickly, I turned to walk the long way to the library, which was where I spent every spare minute at school. Not fast enough. Even with my head down, my shoulders hunched and my arms crossed protectively over my chest, Tara recognised me.
“Hey! Look who it is! Whatcha’ doing Slug?!” She called, a dangerous smirk upon her perfect face.
Keep walking, don’t stop! Keep walking, don’t stop! I repeated to myself over and over again trying in vain to block out the hurtful words.
“Naw, come on Slug! Scared of what all the boys will do to you? Don’t worry, they don’t play with lesbians!”
The boys hooted in joy and one, who was either trying to get Tara’s attention or just felt like being mean, called, “Nah, it’s not that she’s a lesbian that we wouldn’t touch her, it’s because she’s got pizza all over her face! Oh, I’m sorry! Are they zits?”
Tara laughed. Daniel, obviously feeling the competition, added, “Yeah, Slug! Why you gotta be so ugly for? I mean, how many mirrors have you broken by just looking at them?”
Tara squealed in delight and shoved Daniels head between her pokey breasts in what she must have thought to be a hug. Daniel, seeming to enjoy the attention, wrapped his arms around Tara’s waist. By the way she squealed again, I could tell Daniel had grabbed her butt.
Boy had they touched some hurtful subjects today. Scared of what the boys would do to me? Yes. Lesbian? I don’t think so. Pizza face? Well I expected that one, of course. How could I not have bad acne when the stress of going to school each day was enough to kill a baby eagle. The last comment, however, was a new one. Sure they had always hinted that they found me ugly, but no one had ever said it out loud.
With tears blurring my vision, I hurried for my safe haven.


I lounged lazily on the big blue beanbag at lunch time. Tara had given me no time to relax all morning. During math she stole my math book and only gave it back ten minutes before the end of class. But it was returned in a far worse state then what it had originally been. Pages had been torn out and were given back by being thrown at the back of my head, the page we had been working on had been scribbled on and the words were now unrecognisable. So much for trying to be top of the class.
But there was no point dwelling on that at the moment. Now was the time to relax. Being surrounded by the shelves full of books seemed to always have an effect on my depressed state. Even the silent throb of pain on my wrists would disappear for a time. Tara didn’t know about that yet, and I hoped she never would. The days would turn even longer if she found I was committed to self-harm. I could just imagine her shrill whinny, “Eww! You disgusting emo! Go cut yourself, slut!” No, it was better that she didn’t know.
As usual, the library staff left me in piece to do what I wanted. Mrs Sharp was the head librarian. She had given up trying to engage me in talk a while ago, though every now and then she would come and chat with me. Or rather she would talk; I would listen and try hard to look interested.
I was just sinking into my favourite novel when I heard the library doors slide open and a piercing laugh echoed throughout the building. I jumped to my feat, letting the book fall to the ground. Sure enough, there was Tara and her followers. They were eyeing me with anticipation. Leaving the book on the ground I grabbed my bag and dashed out the door. Now where was I supposed to go? I should have stayed in the library! I would have been safer there! Hurrying alone the side of a building I turned to see half the gang following intently. I gulped. Where had Tara gone? Surely she hadn’t gone to the library to actually get out a book! Tara reading was as impossible as seeing a cat breakdance! I turned the corner… and froze.
My heart thudded like an uneven drum beat in my chest. Tara stood just inches from me, sneering maliciously.
“Hey Slug,” she said.
I took a step backwards only to bump into one of the followers, who pushed me forwards. Unfortunately I tripped at the same moment and my head went straight towards the very place that Daniels had been this morning.
Tara screamed, all innocence gone. “Lesbian slut! Get your head out of my tits you ugly skank!” She used her twig thin arms to smash my head against the wall. I was surprised at her strength. Stars blurred my vision as my head began to thud in pain. Before I could fully focus again Tara’s fist cut through the air. I didn’t know whether she had planned it or not, but the back of my head hit the wall again as her fist smashed into my eye socket. I crumpled to the floor, almost unconscious. I waited for the next strike. She kicked her pedicured foot into my gut and I retched. Again and again I felt her perfect feet or tiny fists thumping against some part of my body. Time slowed and I wished for it to end. Why wasn’t I fighting back?
I was dimly aware of some of the boys telling Tara to back off. “C’mon Tara! She’s had it! You’ve taught her a lesson; now let’s get out of here!”
There was a strange, throaty noise and then something wet landed on my bloodied forehead. Yuck! She spat on me! I don’t know how I got to my feat, or why I did, but suddenly I was towering over Tara’s petite form. Her smug expression suddenly faded to uncertainty and horror. Without thinking, I slapped Tara hard across the face. She staggered, clutching her livid red cheek. Before she could react I picked her up, which was easy due to my quiet large size, and slammed her to the concrete ground where she lay whimpering.
Within seconds the followers where crowded around Tara, half protecting; half concerned. I picked up my battered school bag and made my towards the office.
Oh my God! You fought back! YOU FOUGHT BACK! My mind was screaming excitedly. You beat the bully, Leah! You did it! Today really was different.


From that day forth, Tara and her followers let me be. My stress was erased and my face became clear. My eating habits got better and I exercised regularly to keep my form fit and healthy. I visited the schools psychiatrist and found that I didn’t wish to harm myself anymore. I no longer cowered in the library and so I made friends and even got a boyfriend!
I beat the bully; and so can you!



Inspired by the story of Casey, the victim who beat the bully.
Also in support of Jonah and every other victim of bullying, I hope that you can beat the bully, because you ARE a million times better than anyone who brings you down.

Casey’s Story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJOMXxNd ... re=related
Jonah’s Story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdkNn3Ei-Lg
Samantha
  





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Tue Dec 06, 2011 9:43 am
Flyingchaos says...



Oh my God! You fought back! YOU FOUGHT BACK! My mind was screaming excitedly. You beat the bully, Leah! You did it! Today really was different.



OMG my thouhgt exactly!!!!
I couldn't find any mistakes really... I loved the MC and I think you made the skank Tara very much a typical bully with a personal twist! GOOD ONE!

I will wait for future work from you since i'm in love with your writting style in short you nailed it <3
- Anyways keep writting and I will review desu~ :D
  





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Wed Dec 07, 2011 12:27 am
Kafkaescence says...



I can totally sympathize with Casey's story, lol.

This was okay. I mean, yeah, it was meant to be more of an inspirational story for people who get bullied than a serious story (I can deduce this much from the way you incorporated the patha into that last paragraph.). Nevertheless, I'm going to review as if it were any other story.

It was...okay, scrutinized from that perspective. The writing style was rather bland and nondescript; it didn't delineate any singular philosophical view on the matter, or spelunk deep into the marred trenches of Leah's mind. It seemed like it was meant for a younger audience, in that sense; the explicit sexual references, however, are enough to shatter that supposition. So what are you left with? An elementary/middle school piece with vulgarity that would appall a high-schooler.

You also took all this from a highly stereotyped perspective: their parents don't listen, they cry a lot, they're overweight/acned, and that the bully goes out of his/her way to torment them. This is a pretty cliched approach. And it is, as most cliches are, faulty; it is a worst-case scenario, and not likely.

But it happens, as we can see by Jonah's video, which I took the time to watch a bit of. What's wrong with your narrative, then?

Critique three: it lacks emotion. This is related to my first point in that it's more related to the storytelling than the story; both, however, are equally important. It's just
    1. event
    2. event
    3. event
and nothing in between. None of the good stuff, like description, reminiscence, reflection. No mind-spelunking. Complexity is your friend. Embrace it.

The theme of the story is as rudimentary as it gets. This is partly a result of how meager your dissection of the narrator's mental state is, and partly a result of how you aimed only for the bare bones and nothing more substantial. You introduce no further characters save one-dimensional Tara and her obtuse boyfriend. Even the narrator is barely anything to look at: picked on, acned, emo, that's it.

Now, this wasn't all that bad, I'll grant you that (I'm being nonconformist and putting my praise at the end instead of the beginning (gasp)). It was, doubtlessly, an inspirational story, and I'm sure that you stir a certain sense of determination, motivation, etc. in bully-ees who have or will read this. That can only be a good thing.

Keep writing, and PM me if you have any questions or comments regarding this review.

-Kafka
#TNT

WRFF
  








If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven - and very, very few persons.
— James Thurber