Creative Writing: Growing Up To A Bully

All the girls started to integrated me. "Hey hey if she said she did not do it she didn't come on" said Rachel backing everyone up from attacking me. No one moved. "Maybe Piggy is telling the truth. Maybe we aren't alone. Remember yesterday?" said Jackie. Everyone nodded and they believed him. Even Rachel. But he was lying no one else hit Sam on the head besides Jackie and know they believed him because of me. It was all my fault. I started to feel very hot in my face. I tried not to think about it to much but I could not get this out of my head. Jackie was guilty and everyone that he was brilliant. He thought since he got me out of this mess that I would not tell but he was dead wrong. As everyone started for camp I yelled "Jackie...Jackie killed Sam!" and pointed a finger. As everyone turned to me and then to Jackie. I still was filled with rage. Before I could shop myself I was running full speed towards Jackie. I tackled her to the floor. For a second everyone stood motionless but a dark haired boy tried grabbing me. He could not hold me back. He yelled for someone else's help "Help! Help!" Finally Rachel helped and she was much more stronger than all of us. As Jackie swung at me Rachel was pulling me back. I had barely

I have known this boy since I was four and I have always been too afraid to stand up to him when he was bullying one of my friends or me. A batch of courage came across me, I stood up for my castmate and I let my directors know what had been going on backstage. Even though I do not remember what I said to the bully, I remember the passion and fear that I felt when standing up against him. I could have stayed silent like the others, but I knew what was right in my heart and had the desire to

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

One day, we were at the field since we had a game against the Psyclones and Emmie was up to bat and Carlie was playing 2nd base without a face mask on. Emmie swing and hit the ball to Carlie, but first of all she was not watching and Emmie drilled it and it………. Hit her face ….. And multiple people in the crowd were screaming “

Do it, Emma. Get rid of the pain. I bit my lip, trying to resist the urge, but give in. I pick the sharp blade and place it above my left wrist. C'mon, don't you want to feel better? Tears stream down my face. I want to make things better, but will this actually help.. I exhaled and grazed the blade against my skin. Good. More. I give in again and cut deeper than before. The blood oozes out as little beads and falls onto white tiled floor, coating the floor with blood. I lower my gaze to the floor, taking in the numbness I feel. I take a deep breath, knowing that the adrenaline is kicking in. The feeling is a sort of high I'm addicted to, allowing me to forget everything at the moment. The pains spreads throughout my body to my fingertips to

I had… messed up, while spending a week in London (skinny, double d’s, great backside, and… well she wore makeup) and he thought that in the aftermath of this it would be a great time to prey on my girlfriend’s emotional vulnerability. Now, this betrayal was especially shocking given the friendly and innocent façade that this particular friend always put on. People would equivocate hitting him to hitting a puppy. Well, this puppy had a mean streak. Fortunately for him, I was six years the wiser, and I realized that physical violence probably wasn’t the best way to solve my problems. I thought back, and while the situation with Evan worked out okay, it could have ended very badly for all involved. Thankfully, I had the maturity to let things go. I had made a mistake, but punching my friend and losing a friendship wasn’t going to undo what I had

Jews only make up 1.8% of the population in the United States, which is about 5.4 million people. Of that 5.4 million people 4.3 million of them live in major metropolitan areas like New York City, Los Angeles, and Miami. That leaves 1.1 million Jews living scattered throughout the US forming their own small communities wherever they have settled. I am one of these scattered Jews. I was born in Pasadena, California so I started life as a Hollywood Jew, but at the age of 3 my parents decided to move back to the east coast to be closer to their families who live in New York City and Baltimore. Instead of moving to one of these areas, my family moved to Seaford, Delaware, population: 5,000, Jewish population: 2. Although

“Mrs. Mitchell is in critical condition.” Lydia’s face crumpled and she was about to give up hope when the doctor spoke again. “Her legs are both broken and, due to the lengthy time spent without access to blood, almost completely dead. She has two broken ribs, a broken arm, and a minor concussion. Luckily, there was no damage to the brain. I know this must be so hard for you both, but chin up! Although she will never walk again, we are almost positive that we will be able to heal her broken bones and her other minor injuries.” At Lydia’s concerned look, he clarified. “By minor injuries, I simply mean cuts, gashes, bruises and the like. In conclusion, we will be able to help Mrs. Mitchell, but she will have to stay overnight, perhaps for a week or two. Do the two of you need a place to stay?” After the pair mutely shook their heads, Mr. Hal walked up to the front desk, paid the bill, and drove Lydia to his house in silence. “You can stay here until we get your house fixed up,” he told her as they hopped out of the wagon

I put out my arm, and she took my hand. I helped her up, and she skipped at my side. Her hair bobbed up and down, and her shoes made a squeaking sound every time she skipped. "Do you realize how not normal you

When I was an 8th grader and at my house during the Chinese New Year Holiday, I had a conflict with my older sister. I had had a bad relationship with her up to this point therefore setting the stage for this turning point in my life. I was bullied by her and there is one specific moment in my life that has impacted me ever since. A moment in which I faced my bully and told someone about what was happening. At that instant, I learned three things: I shouldn’t be afraid to tell someone when something bad is happening, I should talk to God about everything and he will guide me in what to do, and last of all, I should stand up for myself because no one should have to face bullying, including me. No matter how bad it gets, God is always with

There is nothing like waking up to a blow job to get the day going. I opened my eyes to find Megan's blond head slowly up and down on me as the necklace lifter and fell on my leg while it dangled from my neck.

Man! Did you know that according to Source 2, “an estimated 1 in 5 students in the U.S. is either bullied or a bully?” I find these statistics mortifying. There are two types of people involved in bullying- a bully and a bystander. A bystander is someone who doesn’t help the person being bullied. A bully is someone who intentionally hurts someone. I believe that kids might be bullied for many reasons. According to Source 2, a student states that he was bullied about his hair and about what he wore. Kids might be a ruthless bully because of issues at home and anger. I believe that severe bullying is worse than a bystander because they suffer more severe punishment, develop a horrible reputation, and they are the hugest cause of teen suicide. Clearly bullies are the horrific guys here.

I woke up in a cold sweat. Don’t do this to yourself again, I told myself. He’s gone. He doesn’t want you, he chose her. I still remember the day you told me you loved someone else. I can still feel my face fall and hear my heart break. I wanted to hate you, but I wanted to hate her even more. But I couldn’t make myself hate either of you, especially not the person who once brought me so much happiness.

"Sometimes you gotta let something bad happen, or else you wont know how to fix things when they go wrong later."

When I was in third grade there was this kid named Andrew. He is a very important person in my memories because he was my bully. It wasn’t the kind of bullying situation that you could fix by telling a parent because he was in my dad’s car. Yes he was a person in my dad’s carpool and there was nothing i could do about it. At school there was an assembly that talked about the types of bullies. They were verbal, assault, exclusion, and cyber. He would do all of those things to me. He would call me fat, ugly, and swear words that i can’t say/write. He was also at my school and we had recess together. When i would go outside he would track me down and he would push me and throw basket balls and soccer balls at me.