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Home » 9to5to9

An open letter to a bully

Submitted by on Wednesday, 8 December 2010 One Comment
Dear Punk:

Did you know that's what the little kids in the neighborhood call you? I bet that doesn't sit well with your tough-guy self-image, with the you who takes pride in running children out of their neighborhood park. I bet if you did know it you'd tear up another slide on their play structure, like you did this summer after you'd finished harassing their pets.

You see, even though they're mere babes compared to you, they have you all figured out. They know that a truly strong person wouldn't need to pick on people half his size. Sure, they're scared because you're bigger but don't think that your reign of terror has earned you one bit of respect.

And yesterday, they saw you turn tail and run after they'd had enough, ran to a nearby house and summoned an adult. That told them exactly what you're all about.

I don't know you, but I knew plenty of people like you when I was your age. They were the ones who tore up my school supplies and made fun of me because I was fat. I wish I'd had half the courage back then that Big Guy has now. He's crafting a plan for handling you. I cowered at my desk.

Don't dismiss his plan because he's only 4 feet tall. He's a blue belt in karate and can kick like a mule. His punch isn't bad either, and he knows self-defense moves that can put you on your butt. He has a friend one street over who's a red belt, and there are two brown belts within a block. Big Guy wants to form a posse and go after you. I've managed to convince him, though, that he's better off letting the adults deal with it.

I'm torn between feeling sorry for you, someone so young who already is so lost that he has to get his kicks by terrifying little kids, and hoping your family is leaving soon. Six months of this is really quite enough.

You would have been all right if you'd stuck with just messing with them at the park. They simply moved their play area to behind our house, building club houses in nearby trees. But yesterday you started hassling them there, too. "There is no where left here to play," Big Guy moaned.

Worst of all, you threatened Big Guy's dog.

"If that dog even looks at me, I'll kill it," you snarled yesterday. That was when the kids ran to get a mom.

They won't have to worry about getting a mom from now on. We know what time your bus runs, and we know when you'll be walking past the clubhouses. I'll be standing by from now on to protect you from my dog's laser-like gaze.

Copyright 2010 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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One Comment »

  • Dawn said:

    Excellently written!! Good work, Mama.