The Bully

The teacher beamed at the worried looks of the parents of Fay. "It isn't bad news, I assure you."

The parents still sat rigidly, as if they were anticipating a serve from a respected opponent; only Fay breathed a sigh of relief. Home was bad enough, with her parents' heated and constant bickering. Where was the romantic couple that squealed in delight and pleasure at almost every second of their lives? Even though she didn't know what they argued about (her parents argued in their room and Fay's room was mostly soud-proofed) she knew it was something serious. She could always tell by her father's tired and gruff voice, and her mother's eyes, red-rimmed with dark circles like shadows underneath. They were always grumpy and frequently shouted at the children.

Fay was seven, yet her mind worked like an adult's, only much much more efficiently and quickly. In shorter terms, Fay was a walking, breathing, genius. She was hardly wrong, down to the last second, number or detail.

The teacher sat opposite the parents. "Your daughter has shown exceptional skills in her studies,"she paused for effect, "and we'd like her to skip a grade, which means she will attend 4th grade for the next school term."

Her mom broke into a grin and wrapped an arm around Fay, her face glowing with pride. "I knew you could do it." She glanced at Fay's dad meaningfully. He pretended not to notice and thanked the teacher.

They left the room, Fay bouncing happily into the car.

"Nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it," mom observed. Her father fell silent as though the statement was meant for him, which Fay was sure it was.

They reached home and broke the good news to Fay's older brother, Will. Will was eight, nine in two weeks, and would be in the same class as Fay when the school term started. He gave Fay a toothy-grin. "I'll protect you, Fay. Nobody would bully you in my class," he declared bravely and protectively. Warmth rose in Fay's chest, gratitude, love, happiness for her brother.

"Thanks," she smiled back.

That night, when Fay woke up, thirsty, and decided to get a drink from the kitchen. Her mom's muffledstrangled cry came through the half-open door of the room. Fay froze, listening carefully.

"Is there no hope then? This acute lympho--- thing?" her mom demanded, her voice rising with anger, sadness and desperation.

"Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. And no. I can only enjoy my last few moments in life with you. Enjoy, not sit around with bitterness and hatred."

Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Fay remembered reading about it. Half the people with Leukemia don't survive through it. Would dad be one of the lucky ones? From their conversation, it sounded unlikely.

Fay's mom and dad sat down at the dining table stiffly, not looking at one another. Finally dad broke the silence, his face a mask of pain.

"Fay, Will, when you are an adult, you'll realize that many things in life are hard and painful," her dad mustered a weak grin. Fay was deeply curious. Where would dad take my thought to?

"Mom and I are going to get a divorce," he continued, his head lowered, to hide the slow and silent tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He didn't want to hurt the children with the truth.

Fay was surprised. What has did got to do with leukemia? Then it struck her in the same second. Dad is dying. He doesn't want us to know, because he doesn't want us to get hurt.

Dad moved out within a week. To a hospital, Fay thought.

An afternoon after school, Fay made her way to the hospital. "I'm looking for a patient," she said her father's name. The kind smiling nurse at the counter checked it up and directed her to the ward. Fay walked into the ward. Her father lay on the bed quietly. He had no visitors, no boquets of flowers and cards wishing a quick recovery at his bedside. He looked weak, thin and bald.

"Dad," she whispered. Her father's eyes shot open and took a long look at his daughter, confused.

"Fay?" his voice was rough, like sandpaper, unlike the gentle one she knew. "What are you doing here?"

"Is there... I mean, are you... um... I..." she swallowed nervously. "Are you really, you know---"

He understood her and managed to smile weakly. "There is no hope left. Fay, I didn't think you'd find out. I was wrong. I'd mistaken the intelligence of my wonderful girl. Does Will know?"

Fay shook her head, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. What do you say to your dying father? How do you tell him you were going to miss him, when it seemed too early for that statement? There is never a right time, Fay knew. If it felt too early now, it would be too late when he's dead. There was so many things she wanted to tell him, but how could she? Even though a genius, Fay didn't know.

"Dad, I'll... I'll miss you," she finally choked out.

When your father dies, do you stop saying you have a father? Or do you still say you have a father even though the other part of the equation is gone?

"So will I, my princess. And even when I am not here to say it, I'll still love you," her dad mumbled, ruffling her hair. "Take care, sweetheart. Take care of mom and excel in everything you do. Perservere. I'll always be with you. Here, I've been meaning to give you this. But I kind of forgot, while busying myself moving out. And don't tell Will anything all right?"

Fay nodded. Dad fumbled with a long gold chain and clasped it around her neck. She pushed it under her shirt. "Promise me you'll stay strong no matter what."

"I promise," she promised.

"Now, that's my girl," he hugged her tightly.

The nurse who had helped her earlier gave her a warm smile. It was all she could do to keep her tears at bay.

"Did you find who you were looking for?" she asked kindly.

Fay nodded, unable to speak. Nurses shouldn't be that cheerful. Not if people are dying all the time.

Two weeks later, he died. She didn't cry in front of her family, she didn't want them to know what she knew. Besides, she promised her father to stay strong, and she was going to keep her word. However, she broke down in the silent and protective darkness of her room.

Why? There was a thousand questions in that one word, yet it was the first time she didn't have the answers.

Fay got ready for class. Her brother was giving her a ride, since they were in the same school. They were at their senior year in high school, and Fay was a year younger than everyone else. She had no doubts or worries about getting into a good college. She was great at everything.

Fay met with her best friend, Alyssa, who was also in a grade faster like her. Their other friends, Fay was actually the queen bee in the 'in' group, gathered around them, and together, they marched to class, shoving others out of their way. Fay spotted a girl in a plain shirt and jeans, with glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

"Oh my goodness is she an idiot? Notes.," she snorted, as if that was an appalling idea. "Who needs them?"

Her crowd of friends booed at the girl. They moved on. In front of them was Nita, a girl she knew her brother liked (eww, what did he see in her?), and Fay's sworn enemy. Her friends detested Nita as well and snatched her files out of her hands and tore her notes, throwing them onto the floor carelessly. Fay watched, smirking mercilessly. There was a pleasure she got out of bullying people. One that fuelled her meaness, and prevented her from feeling what was hidden deep inside her. She and her gang weren't typical bullies. Not really. For one, they loved studying more than matching their clothes or painting their nails.

"You're a retard. You can't even defend yourself, moron?" she snapped sarcastically. "Come on, we don't want to waste time with losers. Especially if they're idiots as well."

They got to class. They were bullies, but perfect in teachers' eyes. Thanks to their brilliance in their studies, no teacher would ever doubt their word.

Fay made her way to the library. She had a paper to write and she wanted to do it on Time Travel. She got the book she wanted and was about to return home when a familiar figure caught her attention. Nita. She sat with her bag and a cup of some pink liquid. She was also taking notes for her paper. Quietly, with a plan worked out in her mind in less than ten seconds, she went to the bookshop to get a similar notebook--- down to the exact same color and design-- and slid it into her bag before strolling to Nita.

"Hi Nita," she said friendly.

Nita looked up, shock covering her face. "Um... hi, Fay. May I help you?"

Fay sat down beside her, Nita's knapsack wedged between them. "Listen, I'm sorry for being mean to you. I was just jealous of you. I want to make up with nobody watching. You know how embarrasing it can get," she gestured, faking puppy dog sadness, blinking her large blue eyes to emphasize her point.

Nita was surprised. Well, she would do anything to help anyway. She was kind-hearted and her heart ached to see her boyfriend's sister in this amount of pain. "I forgive you."

"Really?" Fay looked up, her eyes shining. "Thanks! I'm so glad! I'll help you with your studies--- or anything! How can I repay your kindness?"

"You don't have to," Nita uttered shyly.

"Do you mind if I see your notebook?" she suggested discreetly. "Maybe I can improve on your ideas?"

Nita seemed genuinely pleased and smiled warmly at Fay. Fay got up to take a book and sat on the other side of Nita. Fay gave her the notebook and Fay pretended to thumb through it, nodding her head slightly.

"It's good," Fay said approvingly, smiling at Nita.

Nita blushed. "Not really."

Fay knocked over Nita's cup onto her white skirt. Fay stared at the blotch formed in horror and snatched out a packet of tissue from her bag, trying to mop up the stain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized repeatedly, still attempting to clean the blotch of pink on the skirt.

Nita got up, "It's not your fault. It's my fault for leaving it there," she tried to assure the frantic girl.

Going well so far, Fay thought.

"It's my fault. How could I have been so careless?" Fay moaned. She could have made a good actress.

"I can get it cleaned up in the toilet," Nita consoled Fay. "No worries."

"I'll go with you," Fay decided. She placed Nita's notebook into her bag once Nita turned her back.

She stayed to help Nita clean up, it was all part of the scheme after all, even if Fay hated it.

At home, she scribbled some words on the empty notebook. She wrote Nita's name with a Sharpie marker at the front. Now, all she had to do was to hand it to her friends and she just had to watch the drama unfold. She wouldn't have any active role in it anymore, and her friends wouldn't know what she was up to. These friends were expendable.

The next day, Fay slid the replica of the notebook into her friend's desk, leaving the original one in Nita's desk, and bent over her book pretending to read it. Her clique entered the class and found the notebook, sneering at the rubbish scribbles in it. Nita walked into class and her gang surrounded her, ripping the front pages off before Nita, and the pages left were all blank. Nita marched to Fay's seat.

"How could you do this? I trusted you!" Nita demanded.

"What did I do?" Fay looked up, her face masked with surprise and confusion and she scrunched up her delicate eyebrows.

"Don't act all innocent," Nita hissed. "You gave my notebook to your gang to rip it up."

"Your notebook? I left it under your desk."

Nita stomped to her own desk and sure enough, her notebook was there, intact, with all her notes, in the clump of her books. Nita flushed and apologized to Fay.

Nita ran to her Will, soaking wet. Will wrapped his arms protectively around her tightly.

"Where were you? I was so worried," he murmured.

"Your sister," she gasped. "I nearly drowned. She pushed me into the water and I can't swim."

"She has gone too far this time," he muttered. "I'll talk to her as soon as she gets back from Alyssa's tomorrow. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe. Fay will never bother you again." He didn't know how true this could get.

The next day, Will was alone at home. Mom was working late and Fay was due home in the afternoon. Afternoon came. An hour passed. The minutes ticked by. Evening came. However, there was no sign of Fay.

The telephone rang and jostled Will out of his angry thoughts.

"Is this William Hale?" a voice asked at the other end of the line.

"Yes," he replied. "Is anything the matter?"

"I'm calling from a private hospital. Your sister, Faith Hale, is dead. The body is with us now."

"You must be wrong. My sister is fine." Will insisted.

"No," the man on the other line said indifferently, as if this was something that happened too often and he was too used to it. "It's true. You'll not be able to see her unless you want a funeral."

"We can't see her? Why not?" Will demanded.

"It's for the safety of you and everyone else."

"I don't give a damn about others' safety! She is MY sister!"

There was a click and the man hung up. He was probably too used to the angry disbelieving outbursts of the receivers of the news. Will slumped onto the ground, the receiver in his arm. This can't be happening. Except that it was.

They stood in the church for Fay's funeral. Nita stood beside Will, trying to comfort him. This girl, the one who bullied her, who nearly killed her, was dead, and if Nita was in the right frame of mind, she couldn't have been more pleased. Yet this girl was also her boyfriend's sister and his pain was her pain. People were called onto the stage to give their testimonials.

"She bullied me," Nita said, giving her testimony. "I guess I should be glad that she won't be around to hurt me anymore. But I don't feel the least bit pleased. She was a nice girl despite her bullying. If only she had someone to guide her and tell her bullying wasn't the way to lead her life. She'd have been the greatest angel on earth. And I am mourning for her, because she was never given a chance."

The next on stage was Alyssa. "She was my best friend. I am going to miss her." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Fay was smart. She knew when her father died, even though her parents tried to keep that away from her and her brother."

Will sucked in a deep breath. Dad died? Nobody had told him before. It was known to him that his mom and dad had decided to divorce. It had never struck him that they had lied to protect him.

"Fay knew why her parents kept that from her. She knew that she had to keep it a secret. She couldn't tell anyone that she knew. The day her father died, and the long months after that, Fay was mourning for him. She was hurt, she was miserable, and as her bestfriend, I loved her, so much I couldn't bear to see her in pain. I knew. She had confided in me about her father's death. And made me promise never to tell anyone. It breaks my heart as I break my promise now, telling this to all of you," her empty and painful eyes scanned the room. "I made her bully people who weren't as smart as us-- I am sorry about that-- to inflict her misery on others. Because of the bullying, she smiled, for once. The bullying built up to such a level that if she didn't do it, she'd be forced to crumple down on the floor and endure all the pain jammed up inside her heart. So it continued. She might seem like a bully to you. All of you. But she was a victim inside, with cuts that would never heal. She was in a worse condition than you. I love her."

She exited the stage, escorted by Fay's friends, all with tears in their eyes. But Alyssa was the worst. She looked like she had just lost a part of herself.

It was Will's turn up on stage now. He made his way up the stage, still not feeling anything, as if he was in one of his nightmares and was hoping to wake up soon. He took out the hand-written note which he had wrote speech he was going to make and he began to read it.

"She was my sister, yet she bullied everyone that was in her way," he began to read. Suddenly, lightning struck and thunder crashed so loudly that he dropped his note in shock as reality pulsed through his mind. He understood now. She's dead. She's dead It repeated itself in his mind continuously, and he felt his heart shattered into a million pieces because she was his sister and God help her.

"Hey!" she called after him. "Wait up! My legs aren't as long as yours!" They were playing in the field of flowers. He fell into the lake but he couldn't swim.

"Will! WILL!" she swung herself into the pond and grabbed him. She wasn't strong enough. He had felt the edge of the lake and pulled himself up, pulling her up together. He remembered it as the time she saved him. And now she was gone. Just like that.

He looked at the crowd gathered in the church and he knew what to say. "Fay was a bitch but she is my sister, and I love her. He turned to the golden casket and shouted at it. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have helped you! You could have told me! I would have always been there for you!"

He collapsed onto his knees and tears he hadn't shed flowed down his cheeks freely. Several people-- he didn't know who-- helped him up and got him down the stage.

There she was, or rather, what she used to be, lying in the dirt next to dad. Will didn't take flowers, he just wanted to talk to Fay, even though he knew she wasn't there. The body that lay in the casket was but an empty shell of what his sister used to be.

"Fay, I'm so sorry."