Please Don’t Bully Me …


Please Don’t Bully Me …

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

 

 

Gloria Faye Brown … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee … I was a little girl, once.

Her stomach felt as if someone had placed a brick in the bottom of it. She tried to take a deep breath … it kept becoming stuck … making her chest hurt. I don’t want to go! I don’t want to go!

Anyone glancing her way way, could see a little girl standing at the bus stop. The wind blowing her curly hair. She was a cute, little girl … just a little chubby. Chubby enough, to be teased by other children.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear!

Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair!

Fatty, Fatty … two by four … can’t get through the bathroom door!

Fat bitch … you are a fat bitch!

She heard the bus coming … she felt faint. She couldn’t take a deep breath … it stayed stuck in her chest. She knew once she got on the bus … bad things would happen to her.

She had no one to tell … no one to protect her. She had to take the abuse dealt to her. She was but, a little girl. She lived in Hell … she wasn’t big enough, yet … to give Hell back when it was deserved. If only she could turn into a lion …

The bus stopped in front of her …she could see the yellow … hear the air … the door opened. She tripped on the step, trying to climb up. She heard laughter … her face was on fire. It was just beginning …

As she walked down the aisle, looking for a seat … she saw children deliberately sliding to the edge of the seat … to make sure she couldn’t sit down. The little girl was left standing in the aisle … the bus moved on. She was very afraid …

She almost fell to the floor … the pain was great. She looked to see who had pushed her. The big boy named Dallas, had pushed her. He was glaring at her, daring her to say a word. His girlfriend, Peggy, was sitting beside him … laughing. No mercy was in her eyes.

The little girl felt hot tears flow down her face. Dallas tormented her every day of her life, when she went to school. She didn’t want to ride the damn bus.

Grandma Alma and George wanted her to be safe, ride the bus. She was hurt every day … both physically, mentally. She’d rather die, than to ride the bus. Her mind began to think … how she could just … die.

She never saw any peace. Life hurt at every turn … nothing she could do was right. Screamed, cussed at when at home … picked on by big kids at school, teachers. No peace … her young life was in turmoil, constantly.

Pain spread into her head. The boy had slapped her in the back of her head. She began crying … she didn’t mean to, but … she couldn’t stop herself. She never wanted anyone to see that they had hurt her.

Her tears were fuel to the fire … Dallas hit her again in her back, shoving her forward … she fell down to her knees. No one helped her as she tried to get up. She knew this would be the last time she rode the bus … she’d die first before ever getting on this bus, again.

She knew where pills were … Grandma Alma had lots of bottles of medicine. She knew what she was going to do. She hated Dallas, and his girlfriend … hated everybody but, Grandma Alma, George.

She hated her mama; her mama had left her where no one wanted her … left her in everyone’s way. They hated her. She begged her mama not to leave her … she wouldn’t let her mom kiss her goodbye, before she left. Her mama was leaving her again. I hate you, mama!

That evening she came home … after surviving the bus ride. She was angry, hurt. She wasn’t big enough … yet … to fight back. She would be, one day. For now, she wasn’t.

She was going to fight like hell one day if someone had the nerve to put their hands on her … she would tear their asses up! She … would hurt them back.

You are nothing but, a goddam he-man! Alright, goddamn it, I’m a damn he-man! She could hear Grandma Alma, and George cussing, as she walked up to the screen door. Everywhere she went, someone was angry … her stomach felt sick. She wanted to die … she had no where to go … if she ran away, no one would care.

Cussing, arguing … they raved on. Grandma Alma was paralyzed from a stroke. She only had one good hand … she dragged one leg behind her, when walking on her walker.

George was blind … there were conflicting stories about how he came to be blind. George could do amazing things … as a blind man. Not only could he do amazing things … he was the kindest man the little girl ever knew … but, now … he was cussing up a storm … sounded like thunder… he was so loud.

Sometimes … Grandma Alma, and George didn’t know they got everyone tickled. Sometimes … they were funny. Sometimes … they were startled when all was quiet … and out of the blue, George would thunder!

She walked slowly inside, through the living room … into the middle room (as an adult … she nicknamed the middle room … ‘the arena’ … it was where Hell broke loose; where all the action happened. Grandma Alma, George had the … front road seats; so, did she).

Walking into the middle room, Grandma Alma … George … stopped cussing. They smiled at her, began asking how school was. She began to cry, ran to Grandma Alma’s chair. She fell to her knees, put her head on Grandma Alma’s lap.

Grandma Alma’s good hand began to pat, rub her head. The little girl told her how mean everyone was to her. Grandma Alma talked softly to her … George walked out of the room. She almost fell asleep … Grandma Alma calmed her down.

That evening, she didn’t try to kill herself … run away. That came at a later time. That evening, everything was alright. She wouldn’t be riding the school bus anymore … she could begin walking to school.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Photos/story are both owned, written by me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

This story is true … to this day, I still see the mean boy who tormented me as a little girl ( yes, I was the little girl), made my life triple Hell.  I look straight at his eyes … he can’t look back at me.

I still ‘hate’ him … he knows it. He can’t look into my eyes. I’ve never seen his hateful girlfriend, since. He almost made me take my life as a child … because he bullied me, unmercifully.  Oh, I still ‘hate’ her, too.

I truly try to be the nicest, best person in the world. I try to never hate … hate is always beneath the surface. I was mistreated as a child too much to ever forget … that doesn’t mean I’m not a kind, good person. I am …

I’m not perfect, but … I am a good person. I can still ‘raise Hell’, though. It’s … in me. Hate, anger … Hell. I know all as well, as I know … grief, pain. It’s a part of me … just as much as being a good, kind person, is.

It’s just not easy to … bully … me, now. The last person to find that out … was someone from my childhood. We were adults … I gave her 3 chances … the third time … I got her ass! It felt wonderful … and I loved the expressions on everyone’s faces … when her ass hit the floor.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

People who bully others … are cowards.  They should instantly have their asses kicked to Hell, and back.  That’s my opinion … there’s no need to try to change it … it’s a ‘Gloria Opinion’.

 

Seriously … anyone who bullies another … never knows what that person goes through each day … just to live.  A little child is fragile … they have no one to turn to … when they are bullied from every direction.  Take someone under your wing … don’t bully.

 

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3 thoughts on “Please Don’t Bully Me …

  1. I was bullied at school and abused at home, so I know where you’re coming from Gloria.

    Even today I live under the threat of death at my father’s hands, or rather his penis replacement, as he has sworn to run me down because I won’t stay silent about his crimes! 😦

    How ironic that the law that failed to protect us from him now protects him from his victims… 😦

    Love and hugs!

    Prenin.

  2. Pingback: The Kindest Man I Knew as a Child …George | GRANNY'S COLORFUL

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