[2] Bullies

Màu nền
Font chữ
Font size
Chiều cao dòng

☆Glory☆

In second grade, Deathbringer got in trouble for getting into a fist fight.

The trouble, in the end, was me. He was popular, I was not. He always hung out with a group of boys, and once or twice, a girl played with them. She had brown hair (I can't remember her name), was one of his closest friends when I wasn't around.

The thing was, she was pretty cool. She sometimes braided my hair when she was talking to Deathbringer at recess. She would treat me like a normal girl, laughed when I joked, sometimes included me when we played in the playground.

But that day in second grade, a lot changed. It was Valentine's Day, and although we were really young, she liked Deathbringer. It wasn't much- probably a crush- but she seemed serious about it. She confessed to me and the other girls that she liked him, and that she had made the chocolate herself, with the help of her brother.

She giggled and chickened out two times, but when her friends pushed her towards him, she confessed her feelings and gave him her chocolate, a blush on her face.

Deathbringer refused her chocolate. He walked out of the classroom, ignoring everyone's disbelief, and soon started to act like she didn't exist.

Even then, he had that bad habit. He said he didn't want anyone that liked him as his friend, because if he stayed friendly with them, it would just hurt them. He sounded so angry, so determined, so sad, that I had no choice but to agree.

Once, when she saw me playing with Deathbringer like I always did in recess, she asked me to ask him what was wrong. I explained the reason he didn't want to be around her.

"Why?" She kept saying. She started to cry, her chubby fingers wiping her tears away. "I didn't do anything! Tell him I don't like him anymore, I just want to stay friends-"

"I'll try to talk to him, stop crying, okay?" I tried to comfort her, trying to put my arms around her. I tried to give her my handkerchief (Grandmother always taught me to always have one ever since I was young), but she refused.

I guess she had told her older brother before that day in the playground- a boy in fourth grade- and when he saw his little sister crying, with a girl he had been told about talking to her when she kept trying to push something away, I'm sure he got the wrong idea.

He came running to us. "Hey! You! What are you doing with my sister?"

I was scared of big boys then, so I stammered, probably sounding suspicious. "What? N-nothing!"

He frowned. "Aren't you the girl that always play with the boy that my sister has a crush on?" Then he realized who I really was. "Oh. The one with cancer."

The girl ran to her brother, hugging him, sobbing in his arms. I don't blame him for the bullying that followed. He was probably protective of his sister, wanted to made her feel better, blamed me for her sadness. That's why he left his buddy alone to bully me. It was wrong, but I can understand.

He looked at his friends for help, and one of his friends came up to me. "This is the girl that made you cry?" He sneered. "What did you do, give her your cancer cooties?"

"I didn't d-do-" I tried to protest. "Cancer isn't-"

He snatched a ribbon in my hair. "It's okay. We'll just take this."

That ribbon was the ribbon. I used to wear it around everywhere. It was something I had gotten as a gift when I was younger. When he took it like a toy, I immediately snatched it back, angry.

That was when he pushed me. It wasn't very hard, but I was weak. My arm stung.

The crying got louder. The girl's brother stared at us in disbelief. The friend sneered. And in the busy playground, Deathbringer was coming up to me, shouting my name.

The boy took the ribbon out of my hands. "Why, you want this? You made my friend's sister cry. You know, you won't need it anyway, you have cancer. Aren't you going to die soon?"

I stared at him in shock. You won't need it anyway ... you have cancer...aren't you going to die soon...

...does that mean I don't deserve anything?

...because I'm going to die?

And that was when Deathbringer jumped on the fourth grader, throwing the first punch.

Of course, he was the one that got hit the most. No matter how strong he was, he was in second grade. He was no match for a big fourth grader.

In the next class, he showed up with bruises all over his face. He was pressing ice on them, and a band aid on his arm. Everyone thought it was cool. I just looked at him apologetically.

I tried to help him by explaining the situation to the teacher. I told the teacher the words the fourth grader had said to me, that Deathbringed had just gotten angry and that he was just trying to defend a friend.

I also showed the teacher my bruises I got when I had been pushed to the ground.

Thankfully, Deathbringer just got detention- which was just staying in class in recess.

A few days later, in lunch, without a word, he slipped a small ribbon into my pocket.

"Don't let big bullies get to you," he tried to growl in a deep voice, which was funny because he was so young, and he had all kinds of bruises that he had gotten because he had left the big bullies get to him.

I stared at him, stared at my ribbon, and bursted out laughing. He turned to look at me in disbelief. Everyone else stared at us.

Then Deathbringer started laughing, and everyone else laughed because Deathbringer laughed. Soon, tears were streaming down our faces, our faces red.

"Are you okay?" I managed to choke out between laughs.

"Are you?" He snorted, gripping his stomach.

"My grandmother-" I laughed some more- "is going to pay-" I shook uncontrollably- "for your hospital bills. She says go to the-AHAHAHA- hospital-"

He stared at me and nodded, shouting with laughter. Tears were streaming from his eyes.

And then, between laughs, I reached out, and he took my hand, and we hugged, our shoulders shaking with laughter. Everyone joined, although they didn't understand why everything was so funny.

That was the first time he stood up for me when I needed him. He would do it again and again as we got older. When I almost drowned in the ocean when I was in seventh grade. When girls that got jealous of our friendship tried to slap me in the face.

That was when I knew he would do anything, how he would put himself between me and death if he could.

When you search "bullying" and "cancer," you can read an article where a boy with cancer got bullied just because he had cancer. His classmates doubted he had cancer and when shown the scars, one said that he had made them on his own for attention.

He got things stolen, and when confronted, his classmates said he didn't need it because he had cancer, and because he would die anyway.

Please acknowledge the fact that this is true- people get bullied because of cancer. I just wanted to raise awareness of this fact.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen2U.Pro