The Message

From the moment I felt the sharp pain in my gut, my mind raced, telling me not to fight back. I saw his face, smirking at the weakling before shoving him to the ground. I slowly got back up, only for him to kick me in the gut, telling me to stay down. If I fought back, I’d be in trouble for sure. People were all around here. Surely, someone saw this.

No one did. He would just walk away scot-free if someone didn’t do something. However, it wasn’t worth getting in trouble over this guy. I could always tell someone, not that there wasn’t more than one way to get back at this guy.

Something clicked with his laughing. Nothing went through my head as I got up with the adrenaline rush. I threw my hardest punch across his face, knocking him into the ground. His friends looked at me in surprise as I stood over him, glaring down at my fallen tormentor. He didn’t seem to be getting back up either.

I could hear harsh yelling as a hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me away. I didn’t fight back against it, knowing that wasn’t worth fighting. Now someone noticed, some teacher I didn’t know. He glared at me, but I didn’t even flinch, despite my usual fear of authority. Something I didn’t know I had within me had risen…pride.

The bully glared as he was helped up, blood flowing from his broken nose. I had humiliated him in front of his friends and others, and my fist sent a clear message he didn’t like. Too bad. Sure, I’ll be suspended for about a day or two. That won’t last. This moment had another lasting effect that could change how I went about the rest of my life. That moment I resolved to never let anyone or anything run me.