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Memoirs of a 1st grade bully

 

            
             Let's go back, way back into time? Picture this, it's spring of 91? and most of us are summing up the end of our 1st grade year. You see a cute little black girl with nappy hair with her back against the wall with all the other regulars. I'm sayingregulars? because they were repeat offenders, troublemakers, you know, the BULLIES. They were placed on this wall for all kinds of reasons, but mostly because they were general pain's in the ass. Looking back, I feel like I was in a lifelong AA meeting for the bullying sort.Hi, my name is Brianne, and I was a bully.? Brianne, the bully, is what I was. But I wasn't your ordinary run of the mill bully. I was both the jealous little outcast with an identity crisis and the defender of 7 year old girls everywhere.
             There have been days that I have pondered that puzzling question, only to decide that I was a defender for one reason and one reason only: Sean Paul Fitzgerald. Sean was theScreech? of our class. He was more of a pet peeve than a person. To the entire class, including teachers, he was a nuisance. The most obnoxious thing he would do was to try and kiss all the girls, all of them,? except for me. It was amazing how he thought of himself as some sort of 1st grade Casanova. News flash, Sean, Casanova had girls falling all over him, not the other way around!.
             I remember days when I would sit around the playground and watch Sean chase all the little girls and wonder why nobody was there to stop him. I decided to be their defender. I was going to beSuper Bree.? Mysuper- power? was my judo kick to the shins. I would often leave the young romantic sprawled on the concrete holding his leg. And very often, his comrades would hold him up as limped in pain all the way to safety. Deep down he knew he wasn't safe from me. Just as he stalked his prey, I would stalk him. I would pounce on him like a cat on a mouse and super kick him every time. Every time he turned a corner, I was there, defending whatever girl had crossed his path.


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