Time To Put An End To It All
I was the smallest kid in my class I got picked on at school. In fifth grade, there was a group of five kids who pretty much tormented me at recess every day. One day, I decided it would end, so I didn’t go to homeroom. Instead, I hid until just before everyone went to their first class. I then waited outside the class of one of the kids, and as soon as I saw him, I made a daring move—I jumped him.
I had him on the ground, on his knees, and I was just hammering my fist into the side of his head. After about five good shots, I ran, hid again, and waited until the first class was over to get the next one. I managed to mark three of them before a teacher managed to grab me. I got suspended for a week, but my parents didn’t care; they knew what it was all about.
I never had another problem right on through high school. Long after high school, I ran into a former classmate. He let me in on a surprising development—my former bullies were warning upperclassmen in high school not to mess with me. It turned out that I had quite the reputation of being a psycho and never knew it.