First Enemy

1/12/10  

     I remember my first real enemy.  His name was Jeff and he was the last in a long line of bullies I had encountered from the ages of 8-10.  Jeff was my first enemy because he was the first even match I ever had.  I had spent Kindergarten at one particularly unforgiving public school and received wedgies and beatings daily for having curly hair.  I was transferred to another public school for first grade which was a little better.  I made a few friends but still received a fair amount of verbal abuse and kids would steal from me.  My mother finally had enough and tried the private school route.  That's where I met Jeff.

     He was part of a larger group of bullies who huddled up against the stone walls at recess, spitting in the same spot and telling dirty jokes.  I had missed two crucial years with this class and was viewed as an outsider, so I was trying to make friends.  I casually crept down the wall towards their group.  As I got closer I heard one of the bigger kids, Adam finishing up his punchline "...and she goes 'what is that?  A choad?!'  High-pitched, ignorant laughter erupted from the group.  I laughed a little too, noticing all of their paranoid stares at one another, trying to see if they all really got it.  Suddenly, the blond kid I was standing behind spun around and spat through horsey teeth, "What do you know about it, faggot?"  I remember this instance clearly because I had never heard the word 'choad' before and I had definitely never been called a 'faggot.'  At my last school I was pretty much strictly called 'pussy,' but I was trying to burn that bridge and if I had to start that fire as a 'faggot' then so be it. 

      "What?  Oh, nothing" I sputtered, eyes darting to the asphalt below- anything besides the six sets of eyeballs that were beginning to drill into me.  The blond one spit into the lake of saliva they had created and laughed, "Fuckin' penis wrinkle."
     His hyenas cackled accordingly and I remember my blood feeling like fire and gathering in my face, swelling up and morphing me into a different being.  I remember feeling horns protruding from just above my eyeballs, and I could feel my flesh hardening while my heart seemed to grow cold and withdrawn, locking itself away somewhere until this madness passed.  Somehow, I restrained myself and crept back down the wall towards the school building. 
 
    After school, my sister and I would spend three hours at a nearby babysitter's house, waiting for our Mother to get off work.   The babysitter lived close and would take care of several other kids from our school.  Once we arrived, I was less than enthused to see the blond kid from recess bouncing off the walls of her living room with some of the other kids from school.  Maybe his parents were divorced too, I didn't know.  I knew then that I hated him though.
     "Well lookie here, penis wrinkle showed up!  How's it goin', fag?" he hissed, taking notice of me while trying to dribble a basketball on the carpeted floor.
     "Jeffrey!" the babysitter shrieked, "You take that dirty mouth of yours outside!  Terrible language.  Your mother is going to hear about this!"
     He sneered at her and zipped out the nearby sliding glass door to the back yard.

    "Sorry about him, he's only here a few days a week.  He won't bother you.  Would you guys like some snacks?" she offered.  My sister obliged while I said no and quietly walked over to the sliding door.  I saw him out in their back yard throwing rocks at a tree.

     I remembered one day back in kindergarten.  I was standing in a long lunch line waiting.  I had five dollars in my hand.  A tall kid came up from behind and cut in front of me.  I was terrified of everyone and said nothing.  Then he spun around and simply snatched the five dollars out of my hand.  I was too young to understand it, but I had just been screwed over in public.  Embarrassment was such a common emotion for me at this point that I merely thought of it as a standard way of feeling.  I slumped out of line and sat alone and hungry for the rest of the lunch period.

     I slid the glass door open.  Jeff was trying to kill a squirrel with rocks and was being evaded.  I stepped out and walked towards him but he couldn't hear me.
     "Jeffrey?" I begged.  He turned slowly, not fully recognizing my voice.  He had a rock in his right hand.
     "What's up, wrinkle?" he said, chuckling.  The spittle bubbled in between his two prominently large front teeth.
     "Don't call me that.  My name is Ben.  We don't have to be mean to each other..." I said, trying to remain calm.  This was difficult though, because with every word the trepidation I felt grew more and more as I watched Jeff curl his fingers around the rock in his hand.
     "Don't talk to me, faggot!" he said, raising the rock to threaten me.  The smile had faded from his face and the fear was beginning to flood into him.  I kept walking towards him steadily, until I had cornered him against the chain-link fence that surrounded the yard. 
     "Back up!" he yelled.  The spit felt cool against my face.
     "I'm not afraid of you," I said, quickly grabbing the hand which held the rock.  We struggled there against that fence for about a minute before I kicked his leg and he fell to the ground.  The grass against the fence had been neglected and was pretty tall.  Jeff fell face first into a patch of it and began screaming.
    I knelt to see what was wrong, offering "Jeff- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Just then he spun his head around and I noticed a deep, triangular gash in the middle of his forehead.  Blood poured down either side of his nose and quickly mixed with his tears.  He ran inside, screaming the babysitter's name.  I looked down into the grass and noticed a large cinder block.  The top left corner was blood red.  I winced and quietly walked inside.  Jeff spent the next few weeks in stitches, never said anything to me again and left school at the end of the year.  He never told on me though.  Not sure why.

     My bully problems mostly ended there.  I was ridiculed throughout high school and could even argue that I still see it today, but I haven't faced anything that millions of others haven't experienced already.  Assholes exist and they're everywhere.  Always will be.  I knew I wasn't afraid of Jeff, he had nothing I lacked.  As I grew older, I began to realize that I had been intimidated by nothing more than people who were extremely insecure with themselves.  I learned to defend myself with my brain and I'm proud to say I am not a fighter.  After Jeff left school, the only thing I ever heard about him was that he was hit by a car and broke his left arm and leg.  I'm not going to lie, I wish him the best but I enjoyed hearing that.