Here's a thread worthy of reviving. I gots a story for the group:
I was bullied a lot in junior high. One spring day in eighth grade, one of the bullies told me he wanted to give me a "strength test." I knew something was up, with the way his two wingmen were smiling, but for some reason I agreed. He had me sit at a desk, put my elbow on the table, and make a fist with my arm straight up in the air. He then grabbed my fist with both hands and told me to resist as hard as I could.
Somehow I didn't see it coming. After pulling back on my fist for a few seconds, he suddenly let go. I hit myself in the mouth HARD. I split my bottom lip way open and was dripping lots of blood. I must've gone into shock. I happened to have some crumpled-up sheets of notebook paper left over from winter (students were into making their own tissue paper this way then), so I pulled one out of my Trapper Keeper to stop the bleeding. I just sat there stunned while the three laughed for a few seconds. Then the other two moved on, and amazingly enough, the one who had held my fist in the first place asked "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"Maybe you should see the nurse."
"No, I'll be alright." The first sheet was about done for, so I wadded it up and set it on my desktop. I got a second one out; I wasn't bleeding quite as bad now. "That was kind of funny, actually. Better than the stuff you guys usually come up with, anyway." I smiled a little. Like I said, I was too much in shock to properly react emotionally.
The teacher was late getting to class, so I was done bleeding by then and had disposed of all the bloody paper somehow. I noticed the other kid giving me nervous looks for the rest of the class, though.
That was the last time I ever got bullied, pretty much ever, although I didn't really realize it, or figure out why, until about halfway through summer vacation that year.
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It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all. - G. K. Chesterton
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