Exultation

Microseconds seem like hours as a fist nears your face.  You can almost feel the pain even before the blow is inflicted.  You can see the look in his eyes–that fierce, raging grin and those bloodshot eyes.  Air puffs out his nose like a bull before the torero…  Then it hits you:  This is it.  I can’t take it anymore.  It’s too late, though.  You’re on the floor with your hand on your mouth and nose to cover up the humiliating injury that has been inflicted upon your face.  The only thing you can hear after the ringing in your ears has ended is the sound of people laughing.  All you can see are the eyes of those who, exhilarated by the thrill of a fight, have lost all compassion just for the sake of entertainment.

This is my life.  Everyday it replays in ways that are predictable enough for me to fear waking up each morning, but peculiar in a way that doesn’t allot time for preparation.

I wake up so weak and drained at the thought of going back to that dreadful place.  It’s not school.  I learn more about the scabs on Pete’s fist when he’s about to punch me than I could ever learn in all my classes combined.

I beg my parents to let me stay at home.  I tell them my problems and the troubles I’m going through, or at least I try, but it’s like talking to a wall.

Today was different though.  I guess you could say everything that was bottled up came out at once.

It was lunchtime.  Everyone was at the cafeteria.  Pete came around to my table, where I sat alone.  “Hey, turd-face,” he said mockingly.  “Hey, I’m talking to you, dumbshit.  This is my table.”

You know that feeling you get when your stomach feels like something you ate wasn’t quite right and then it just reaches a point when your body just expels it?  Well, the soothing yet nauseating feeling you get right before that is what I felt when I said:  “I don’t see your name anywhere on here, dickhead.”

I felt chills and goosebumps on the back of my head as he ran toward me with the might of a rhino.  All the punches and pranks that had been used against me ran right before my eyes in that instant and I felt empowered like never before.

As he approached me on the left, I extended my foot and watched as the drool spewed out his mouth as he unexpectedly fell.  In a matter of seconds, he was covered with slime from head to toe.  Banana pudding, green beans, milk, mashed potatoes and gravy–it was all on him.

What happened next was like the cheer of an epic victory.  All the kids in that cafeteria roared in unison as they threw whatever they had on their plates in obese Pete’s direction.

What else could he do but weep as he stumbled out the cafeteria doors, slipping on the sloppy mess that had piled up on the floor.

It’s time for change.  The puny little dweeb that always gets picked on–this defenseless little kid–has to become stronger, even if that means breaking some rules.  I’ve had enough.  No more Mr. Nice-Guy.