Bullied by Patrick Connolly Page B

me several times, as she begins discussing the subject for our first period of class.
    Bored as I am with some of these subjects, the day is moving on. By 10:30, when it is time for our ten-minute bathroom break, I really have to go. When the bell rings, Sister dismisses us; some of us get up and walk into the hallway. When I get into the hall, it is full of the normal commotion with kids talking and some heading quickly to the restrooms. I walk towards the boys’ bathroom at the end of the hall.
    After entering the bathroom, I walked past the stalls on the right and left to the urinals at the end of the bathroom. There are several urinals not in use but I do not stop. I go to the last urinal in the corner. I know I have to use this one because if I stop at any of the others, kids might walk behind me and punch me in the back. When using the urinal in the corner, I can sense or see someone coming behind me and know he means to punch me.
    This time, bully Bob, who had punched me this morning, was with two of his friends and they came over toward me as I was just finishing. I saw them coming and turned around to my left with my back against the wall. I like the wall behind my back because then no one can get behind me. The three boys begin calling me names like “little redheaded fag” and “short weirdo” and others. These names might hurt some of the other kids or the girls, but I am so used to it that I do not care. I am only interested in what they are going to do to me.
    I watch their hands and their eyes because this tells me their intentions. Bob had his hands clenched into fists as he stood in the middle of the group of three. The other two were just calling me names, hands unclenched, and laughing so I am sure they are not going to hit me. Some of my rules that I was trying to make for myself came into my head. The first one was," Do I have to fight"? Because I am against the wall, in the bathroom, and confronted by three people, one of which had hit me this morning, I knew there was only one answer to this question, “Yes”. There is no choice.
    I had told myself what I was going to do the next time I got in this situation and rehearsed it repeatedly in my room at night. Suddenly, I swung my right fist hard and hit big Bob in the face. The three of them were so surprised that one immediately started laughing loudly, and I ran quickly around them into the hallway. As I run, I can see the three of them come out of the boys’ room with Bob in front. I made it to my classroom and walked in quickly. According to school rules, these people are in different classes so they cannot come into this room.
    As I sit down at my desk, I think of what I just did. That awful pain that I woke up with and was in the center of me just a minute ago is now gone. I am always surprised when that morning pain suddenly disappears. For sure, hitting someone makes the pain go away! This is not the first time that I experienced some relief from this morning pain after hitting someone but this time I also feel another more pleasant, slightly exuberant feeling. I wonder if I could get that good feeling if I hit someone that was not bullying me. Probably, but I have never ever started a fight, and do not think I ever want to.
    I know for certain, that when I leave the school this afternoon that the three of them will be waiting for me. I take my escape route out the Nuns small side door on the other side of the school and walk quickly down the narrow alley next to the church to Washington Boulevard, north to Main Street and then home. It is a longer way home but safer. I see a few kids I know on the way but none of them bothers me so I am able to get home without incident.
    After getting home, I go down into the smelly basement, pull out my hidden brochures on jujitsu and start reading them one more time. As I read, I try to identify what other moves or strategies I could have used in that bathroom situation. I have been in that spot many