One Bully I Encountered At An Early Age

Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter — What if? Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers prompts — The Exercise:

First, think about your childhood between the ages of six and twelve and try to recall someone whose memory, even now, has the power to invoke strong, often negative feelings in you. Was that person the class bully, the clown, the daredevil, the town snob, the neighborhood bore, etc? Write down details of what you remember about this person. How she looked and talked. Did you ever have any encounters with this person? Or did you just observe her from a distance?

Next, if you haven't seen this person for ten years or longer, imagine what she is doing now, where she lives, etc. Be specific.

If you had a long acquaintance with this person, or still know her, imagine where she will be ten years from now.

The Objective: To understand how our past is material for our imaginations and how writing well can be the best revenge.

I grew up with racism. Living in a racist town. Engaging daily with prejudice. I have done a lot of work in forgiving all of the bullies, the hurt, and the trauma experienced. It is difficult for me to pick just one person or the interactions with one person. I think this is a good thing.

My memories of those ages are of friends who became good friends, and a few that I am still in touch with after more than 60 years. I remember the popular girls, but I never really struggled with them as they mostly ignored me.

Name-calling happened regularly. I was pushed and shoved, bumped into, and not included. Over the years, I have decided to remember friends and family that I loved/liked! I have prayed for those who hurt me and whom I had resentments toward. Most of that is gone for me now.

Wow, I really can't focus on one person for this exercise as one doesn't come to mind. Recovery works!

So, here is a story with names not related to my experience to answer this question:

Tony was a boy who lived across the street from us when I was six years old. He was just a couple of years older. He may have been nine. He looked and acted a bit like Dennis the Menace. One day, when we were both playing outside, he came up to me and meanly told me no one liked me.

He went on to say that he didn't like me, Sally down the street didn't like me, and Sarah at school didn't like me. I thought these two girls were my friends. According to Tony, they were not. That hurt.

I tried to argue with him about it, but he didn't want to hear what I had to say, as he gave me a push and was on his way. When we moved, I never saw Tony again.

And my guess is that he lives in an assisted living facility due to early dementia and fights with the nurses regularly, telling them that no one likes them.