The Bullies That Walk Among Us (Part 1)

When I was 12, I joined 7th grade at this new school in the next town. The new environment, a big school, a whole bunch of new kids with "I am so cool, I am so smart attitude", frankly I was scared to death! I badly wanted to fit in, I badly wanted the kids to accept me, however this was really an uphill task especially for a weird kid like me with uncombed tangled curly hair and messy cloths, a kid with zero fashion sense let alone an ounce of coolness in her bones!
So, frankly the weird kid must get picked one. I became an easy target especially for 3 bullies (all tall and popular girls) in the 7th grade. Gee, Babs, and Ceci, girl bullies with angelic features. All the other kids wanted to get in their good books because of the certain aura they had. Until the end of the 7th grade, everyday I returned home with a heavy heart, and a growling tummy. My lunch money was taken away, my text books were stolen, my home works were copied and thrown aways by these girls so I will not be able to pass my assignments to be graded. I got shoved, scratched, and blackmailed by these girls almost every day.

Naturally my father started noticing the change in my attitude, as I grew more and more withdrawn. He repeatedly asked me, but I did not want to turn the bullies in fearing being black marked by fellow schoolmates.

"When are we moving to the new house ?" was my only reply, knowing that means I will finally enter another school. But my father adored the school I was in, since he and his seven brothers studied in that very same school decades ago. Plus, it was a prestigious place in my father's eyes, and I did not have heart to burst his bubble. Thus, I endured the bullying silently.

Until one fine day, 2 months until 7th grade was over, I could not take any more. My dad was smoking his pipe in the front porch, asking how I was getting on with my friends and studies, and suddenly my resolve disappeared, and I started crying non-stop and told my my dad everything. Naturally, my dad marched off to the school the next day, but asked my class teacher to handle this matter. The bullying reduced considerably after that, and I only had put up with snide tauntings from those 3 girls after that, no more stolen money, books, or assignments to deal with thankfully. They never dared to to lay a hand on me, let alone scratch me :)

However, these bullies were young and immature, mere kids after all then. I forgave them, I even talk with them in an genuine manner without malice when I come across them once in a while after we grew up.

But then, what if the bullies never grew up, I mean mentally that is? How do they become? Perhaps I have met my own fair share of grown up bullies after my father's death, my father's brothers, who I had to deal with a daily basis, Uncle Bas, Uncle Nick, Uncle Tim, Uncle Jack, etc. But I do not want be a victim of bullying for the rest of my life, suffering in silence, scared into becoming a timid mouse who questions her aptitude everyday because of the low self esteem they instilled in me.
And neither should anyone for that matter.

The Burma junta, the Burmese army, another example of grown up bullies they are merely, and a whole country full of victims . Will these people also have to face a lifetime of bullying, scared into thinking that they do not deserve freedom, and individuality for the rest of their natural born lives?

Bullies thrive on power, they thrive on having power over others, and if their victims stand up one day, these bullies go stark raving mad to put them back under the bullies' thumb.

Bullies, they can be the leaders of countries, they can be your boss, they can be a relative, or they even can your next door kid.
Have you met a bully lately?