Bully Boy

Here he comes again….… the ‘boy who brings no joy’!

I was beginning to fear venturing into the school playground, because I would usually be a victim of ‘this’ boy’s frustrations!

Both of his parents had disappointed him, and they would soon split-up, after his Mother decided to leave their family home to move into another house, with her new lover, who was another woman, who she befriended in the early years of the 1980’s, which was a very controversial matter, especially in a small Cornish village, and it didn’t abide with his wannabe macho image, and his father was not around to compensate for her absence, because he was, instead, residing in one of Her Majesty’s Prisons! ‘And so’, he had a combination of anger, disappointment and frustration, and amongst several other weak victims, I was chosen to be his ‘vocal and physical punchbag’, that was obviously chosen to absorb his frustrations, and I would receive the occasional punch that deadens the muscles on my upper arm!

I would sometimes ‘bunk off’(“skive, stay away from, not attend’) school, just to have a day away from this abuse, preferring to share my company with either a stray dog, or the ‘hide ‘n’ seek’ fish darting around the rock pools on the local Cornish beaches, which always fascinated me, with their ‘now you see me’-‘now you don’t’ high-speed jerking disappearance (“this was an image around the rock pools that would regularly be seen”) that would always question the health of your eyesight! I used to love those ‘odd and unplanned days’ at the beach, with my packed lunch, which would never offer any surprises, because I always made it!

During those colder, and usually wetter days of the Winter, when hiding and entertaining myself on the beach was not an option, then I would usually feign illness, which would miraculously improve as soon as the school bus had disappeared from sight!

The ‘Bully-Boy’ would be very difficult to avoid though, because he was in my ‘form’ class now (‘the morning classroom for your registration of attendance’) which he would attend, alongside me, every morning, and he was also now in several of my chosen subjects! ‘Whether or not’ my arms would receive more bruising from now on would purely depend upon his mood!

I was a timid school boy, and my temper would not arise, unless I was really, really, really pushed, and when the bullying became too frustrating and annoying to cope with, then I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror one evening, and I thought/said to myself, “the only way to stop this continual abuse is to ‘stand up to him’, I would more than likely have my face bashed in, BUT ‘at least’ I would have tried to put an end to it”!

I did ‘stand-up to him’, and I did get my face bashed in!….. “No, I fortunately didn’t”……. I did ‘speak out’ about my disgruntlement at being ‘one of his victims’, and I asked him why he was picking on me, because I knew that I hadn’t done him any harm, nor was I of any potential threat, but he never replied to my questions, and he simply walked away; ….. ‘Phew’…… ‘I thought’….. ‘hopefully this matter is dealt with now, and I won’t be on the receiving end of his frustrations anymore’, I hoped?

He didn’t have any male friends, and only spoke to a few girls in a flirtatious manner, but his flirtations were not reciprocated and his rejection was merely quietly laughed at, by some onlookers!

‘As I’ grew older and changed classes, I would, thankfully see less and less of his face, and the bullying would eventually become ‘nonexistent’! I would become good friends with another classmate, who, unbeknowingly, lived nearby to this ‘bully boy’, and I used to ride my bike down to see this ‘new friend’, who was a big and strong lad, but he never seemed to be a threat, nor have a nasty temper and he was good to be around, and I knew that he would defend me if I was ever threatened………. “I never was”, and we used to see each other at school on a daily basis, before I extended this friendship during the early evenings, with a visit to his house, after eating my tea/evening meal, and I would ride my bike down to see him, which was about a mile away for a few hours, and we would sometimes walk or play along the local Cornish beach, or go and play football in the nearby playing field?

‘One day’, we decided to go and play in the local park, which was close by, to kick a ball around, and after we had begun our ‘kick about’, we heard this pitiful voice ask, “can I play”? …….. mWithout turning around to clarify to whom this voice belonged, I did think that this voice sounded familiar, but it would not inspire any excitement, nor happiness!

I slowly began to turn around to view from whom this voice belonged, and then he would speak again as I was turning, and I had a ‘bad feeling’ about from whom this voice came- and I would be right to dread this voice, and more importantly the face that this voice came from, because it would belong to the ‘bully boy’, who now sounded lonely, vulnerable and bored!

My new friend knew this bully boy well, and allowed him to join our ‘kick about’, and despite my initial reluctance we all played together well, but I would never look at the ‘bully boy’ in the eyes!

This ‘bully-boy’ would soon hold no threat to me, because he was relying upon us now, and I would become an acquaintance with whom he would happily play football with, and my visits to my original friends house would soon extend to the ‘bully boys’ house, whose name was actually Justin!

I was called Andrew, and my original friend was called Martin and together we would form a very unlikely friendship, that would stick together like our first initials would suggest:-

J (Justin)

A (Andrew)

M (Martin)