by R. K. Star
My only peace came when I had a class where none of them were there or they were sitting away from me. If there was only one or even two was better than the three together. When all three was together I lived in hell. When the three of them sat either in front of me, to the side, and behind me I was in trouble. Once Lisa was in the front. She would turn around and throw things at me and give me this uncomfortable stare while blowing long breaths in my eyes. She would blow air and mess up my hair. She blew air up my nostrils and when I told her to stop she would blow air into my mouth. When she blew air, some spit came along and it was absolutely disgusting. I felt enraged inside. I wanted nothing more but to jump over the desk and snap her neck. But the best I could do was blow air back at her trying to annoy her. She would quickly turn around and say: ‘ah a cool refreshing breeze on my neck’. I was never able to torment her as she did me. The other students laughed at what was happening and I hated them for it.
Joan would be sitting adjacent to me and casually blowing her eraser crumbs at me. I gave her an angry look and said: ‘what the hell is wrong with you.’ All she responded was ‘oops my bad,’ and again the other students would giggle. Stephanie would be sitting behind me. One time she brought a pair of scissors and very carefully cut the back of my hair. I heard a lot of giggling but every time I turned around Stephanie had already hidden the scissors. Eventually I saw a bit of hair on Stephanie’s desk and when I look down I saw a lot of hair and hair on my sweater. Quickly I grabbed the back of my hair and noticed it felt different. Without asking permission to go to the washroom or taking the hall pass I rushed out the classroom and went to the washroom. I heard the teacher say: ‘where are you going,’ in a raised voice. I didn’t care about that stupid bitch. She chose to be so clueless to what happens in her class when it was convenient for her but then picked on me. When I got to the washroom I was scared to look at myself but slowly I turn around to look at the mirror and saw my hair was uneven. I continue to turn to see as much on the left side as I could and tears began to run down my eyes. I turned the opposite way to see the right side and it was hideous. I lost about three inches of hair in certain areas, two inches in others and my hair was all patchy and jagged. I went into the toilet stall lock it, sat on the toilet seat and lift up my legs so no one could tell I was there. Silently I began to cry, the tears came uncontrollably and as I cried they rolled down my cheek frantically. I was making squealing sounds I couldn’t control. I heard the door open suddenly and I covered my mouth to squash my squeals. I didn’t want anyone to know I was crying there. I don’t know how long I was there but eventually I stopped crying and then the bell rang signaling for next class. When I got back to the classroom everyone had left and the next class didn’t come yet. Luckily the teacher was gone, probably to the break room for more coffee. I found my binder where I left it but my pen and pencil was gone and there were scribbling on the front page. A crude drawing of a girl and it was title stupid skank. I ripped the page out and threw it away. The next class only Joan was present and usually she didn’t care to sit next to me. It gave me the chance to return to a state of calm.
I remember I got home before my parents and trimmed my hair to even it out. My mother was so surprised when she got home and wonder why I cut my hair when I loved it long. I lied to her and said now I prefer short. She believed me and said I had some uneven spots and would help me level it out. Luckily for me my hair turned out okay after a few days when it grew out and everything blended back in.
Never would I sit in a spot that left me so vulnerable again. I would rush to get to the class first then sit at the back of the room with a wall. If I turned sideways I could face the adjacent seat and the seat in front of me at the same time and defend myself better. They would trip me as I walk in the hallway or pretend to spill a cup of water on me. I was lucky it was water, they could have been cruel and dump soda on me.
In art class they would swipe their brushes that were full of paint on my sweater, on my neck and on my backpack. If they got paint on my neck it wasn’t a big deal as I could go to the washroom and remove it. If they got it on my backpack It wasn’t that bad either but when they got it on my sweater, my eyes would get watery. I would have to lie to my parents that I was clumsy and got paint on myself. Sometimes it didn’t even make sense, the paint mark was on the middle of my back and how it was even physically possible but my parents didn’t suspect a thing. I didn’t want them to worry about me. They would be so sad to hear what I was going through.
With every attack I got smarter or adapted. I would keep away from the radius of attack those girls could do to me. In art class I would wear the same stained clothing so if they got more paint on the stained sweater, shirt or pants it wasn’t that bad. Another good article of clothing wasn’t wrecked. Things would get better then get worse as Lisa was always quick to adapt new ways of harassment. Gym was the easiest way for them to physically harm me. In dodgeball if I hit them with my ball they wouldn’t go out but instead chase me and continue to hit me. They all ganged up on me, and sometimes I would pretend to get hit and go out to save myself the trouble. The gym teachers caught them sometimes but more times than not they didn’t see, whether it was their choosing or not I wasn’t sure. Volleyball was bad. They would purposely spike the ball and tried to hit me in the face, my chest, my leg, my crotch, basically anywhere they thought it would be funny. Basketball was not different, when they passed the ball they threw it so hard and fast at me there was no way I could catch it. The teacher always gave me a hard time and told me to be alert and on game. Other sports such as badminton, baseball or soccer was hard for them to assault me. No matter how hard they hit the birdie it doesn’t go very fast and even if it hit me it was no more than a tap. Soccer was easy to evade them. I could see the angle they came from and also the field was huge and easy for me to keep my distance. In baseball there was no chance they could get me. I always went far out into the field and they didn’t have the upper strength to even get the ball that far. Some of the big jocks were able to hit the ball far but I was a great catch and almost every time I caught it. My team would cheer when I did and for a moment I thought I fit in and had friends but when we return to the class room it was clear I didn’t. I was lucky in regards that I was athletic and capable in physical activities. Gym was actually a subject of peace and tranquility if one could believe.
I open my eyes after my flash back from grade seven. It was too much of a burden I had suffer from the past and that was only up to grade seven. The senior years was just as cruel if not more. There was so much more pain and suffering Lisa and Stephanie done to me compared with Joan. How was it fair that Joan paid for her crimes but Stephanie and Lisa lives, they must get fair treatment as well.
16
Stephanie Ovartis
I scribbled the details of Stephanie life on a notepad. Her life was an open book as she didn’t have any privacy settings. She wanted people to know how fabulous her life was. She wasn’t taking any summer courses but was working part time at a clothing retail boutique three days a week. She was a fitness geek, she frequent the gym four time a week and had separate jiu jitsu class which I found out Lisa attended as well. They would practice jiu jitsu as partners. Lisa and Stephanie had always been closer, much closer than they were with Joan.
I stalked Stephanie, hiding and peering through the glass to watch her and Lisa practice jiu jitsu. They both had brown belts and proficiency in the art. Their practice was intense but I notice they paid attention not to do serious harm to their partners. They were an equal match and I could not say which was better. In addition to jiu jitsu I found they also practiced kickboxing together. What power they had, I could hear the smacking sound with such ferocity when their leg contacted the padded dummy.
Physically Stephanie was stronger than me, no doubt about it. I could only imagine she had been practicing several years of jiu jitsu to obtain a brown belt. I had no idea how long she had been practicing kickboxing but she wasn’t an ama
teur.
As much as I wanted to break Stephanie’s pretty face with my fists, there was no way I would beat her face on. I would have to use me telekinesis, otherwise I would have to surprise her and hit her in her blind spot. I would throw the first punch or grab a hard object to greet her face with.
Stephanie was residing in a house with her parents and younger sister. This made things more difficult. I would have to find a time when her parents and sister weren’t at the house but she was.
There I crouched with small hand-held shears pretending to trim their neighbour’s bushes while I stalked Stephanie’s residence. Her father left at seven thirty in the morning and returned quarter to five Tuesday to Thursday. On Monday he left before two in the afternoon and wouldn’t return until past eight. His routine was very strict and always fell within a few minutes of that time. Stephanie’s mother schedule was an irregular variable, no doubt she worked part time. Eventually I figure out she worked Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. She would leave at eight forty and return by five thirty. Stephanie’s sister was the worst. She was in high school and now on summer break. She would often leave to be with her friends and I had no idea when she would get back. I had no idea when she would have an outing with her friends as it was always spontaneous.
Most of the stalking time was in vain but eventually I found a window of opportunity. Stephanie’s sister had dance class on Mondays and her mother would drive her there. Stephanie’s mother would return and then go to pick her back up later which wouldn’t give me enough time to make Stephanie suffer. However, on the last Monday of the month, Stephanie’s mother would always return home with her daughter together. She would always order take-out that day as well. This would be my window of opportunity, but it was pending if Stephanie would be home when everyone else was gone. Most times while stalking Stephanie, I found she wasn’t home on Mondays. I only had a couple of months before summer ended and everyone would return to their normal routines, including me.
Now I visited only on Mondays at the end of the month. I arrived fifteen minutes to seven, just in time to see Stephanie’s mother and sister leave together. They were getting into the car and about to drive off but I didn’t sense Stephanie presence nearby. She wasn’t home yet. I sat on the curb and pretended to talk on my phone while waiting. Stephanie had to return home soon or my opening would close. The time frame I had was very narrow. Ten, then twenty minutes pass but no sign of Stephanie. Thirty and forty minutes now but still nothing. A few moments later I heard footsteps and it was Stephanie walking to her front door. I check the time but it was almost seven forty now. I didn’t have much time and the last thing I want was to rush my revenge. Disappointed in how the evening turned out, I made for home. I would have to wait for another month to try again.
I felt bitter that Stephanie had another month to enjoy her time. It was another month she didn’t deserve.
One time in grade nine I went psychotic after Stephanie spat into my hair as I walked by. I remember hearing the spitting sound. At that moment I doubted someone just spat on me. I couldn’t believe that I was just walking by and someone would intentionally walk up behind and spit on me. I felt something hit my hair and turned around to see Stephanie standing there glaring back at me with her bitch face. My doubt faded I was certain she spat on me. I reached up to feel my hair and there I felt some slimy glop and took my hand back and looked at it, then saw what I knew already. I walked with my safe radius distance away from the girls but I didn’t think they would actually chase me to do this. I saw Stephanie smirking with her hideous face. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to yell but I went into a frenzy and knock her to the ground and slapped her across the face and then again and I wanted to continue but before I knew it both my arms were restrained. I looked back to see Lisa and Joan. They pulled me backwards and dragged me down. Stephane then pounced on me, she brought her arm back and struck across my left cheek and I could feel a burning sensation. Then there were two quick cracks of noise as Stephanie’s palm contacted my cheek again and now I could hear a ringing and feel a throbbing in my ears. I saw Stephanie’s cheek were red and she too was feeling a burning sensation.
I remember her saying, ‘How do you like that, stupid bitch’. I sucked all the saliva in my mouth towards the tip of my lips. I had lots of anger in me and I spat with all the force in my mouth, utilizing every muscle. My saliva exited my mouth like bullet through a barrel with a loud sound. The ball of thick viscous slimy saliva hit Stephanie in the left eye. Bullseye I thought, I felt so good. I heard Stephanie curse and scream in disgust and pain. I responded with ‘how do you like that, stupid bitch’. I was ecstatic and filled with content at that moment. Stephanie spat at me and slapped me three times. I spat on Stephanie and slapped her twice it was wonderful. Such a joy, it was sensational but like all good things in my life it was not meant to last. Nothing was ever fair for me. Whack, Whack, Whack. Again and again, I spat and slapped Stephanie twice. Stephanie spat and slapped me seven, eight, nine and continuing on, how is such a thing fair. I was happy to get even with Stephanie but she wasn’t happy. I couldn’t recall how many times Stephanie slapped me that day. After the tenth slap or so, all I remember was her saying, ‘how do you like that stupid bitch,’ every time she struck me.
How do you like that stupid bitch. How do you like that stupid bitch. How do you like that stupid bitch. How do you like that stupid bitch. How do you like that stupid bitch. Over and over, it felt so long and my head was dizzy. I could feel my head a blazed, fire spreading left and right, up and down. Like a wildfire my head heated up and raced down my neck to my shoulders. Finally Stephanie stopped slapping me and I could feel a grin on my face. For every slap I gave Stephanie she returned with twenty something. I figured Stephanie slapped me well over forty or even fifty times. I was dragged up to my feet and I heard someone shout something. I thought It was so unusual for the girls to raise me back up and help me to my feet. Through the narrow window I could see from my eye, it was a teacher that helped me to my feet. I realized it was not Stephanie who stopped because she thought she had gotten even with me but the teacher stopped her. I would eventually learn what she considered even.
My face was swollen like an overfilled balloon, the swelling spread up to my eyes and my eyes were puffed up limiting my sight. There was no way I would be able to hide this from my parents. I gave a report to the vice-principle of how the girls had been bully me before and how they had cut my hair, stole from me, assault me. It was such a long list of things that the vice-principal stopped me, she was getting tired of listening. Later I found Stephanie wasn’t going to be expelled or suspended actually there was going to be no punishment whatsoever. I rejected the school stance on the matter. I was beaten and hardly recognizable yet Stephanie was not to be held accountable. Apparently Lisa and Joan were witnesses and said I spat at Stephanie as I walked by and then slapped her which made Stephanie enrage with anger and that’s why she couldn’t control herself. They found spit in her eyes and her cheeks were red with hand prints on them. She had the evidence and the witnesses. How many times have criminals gotten away with lies and misdirecting the information while on trial.
I felt justice was owe to me that day and now I would be the judge to carry out the verdict and punishment for that poor junior high girl.
My heart pounded rapidly and I couldn’t silence my mind as it had been a constant month of anticipation and wait. After this sleep, I would stalk at Stephanie house again for my opportunity. The thought of tomorrow delighted me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight as I tossed and turned in bed. I would love to get some rest but there were too many synaptic nerves firing in my brain. I welcome the insomnia with a gleeful grin.
I camped out at my spot again. I hope my glee would realize into reality today. Stephanie wasn’t at home today either. She better return soon. I really could not stand another month of waiting. Last month with all the memories I had flushing into my brain and filling my soul with s
orrow. If I had to wait again it would rip my mentality to shreds.
I watch Stephanie’s mom and sister drive off again. I looked at the time, please I whisper in silent, please. Ten minutes pass in futility. I waited, stiff as a rock but very jittery. I became apprehensive at the thought if Stephanie didn’t show up again. Please, please, please. I closed my eyes and hoped.
Someone heard my prayer and I heard keys jingling. It was Stephanie! I felt I won the lottery in that moment. I check the surrounding area to see if anyone was watching, the coast was clear. I put on nitrile gloves and a hairnet. There would not be the luxury of time for cleaning and removing evidence. My excitement was uncontrollable, my feet were springs and I darted to the front door with a bounce in each step. Unlocking the door, I let myself in quietly. I check to see if anyone saw me as I closed the door on my way in. This was it, this was what I’ve been waiting for. It has been years but now I will have my revenge.
I closed the blinds as to not arouse the neighbours. I worried they might see through the windows. Stephanie was clueless in her room. I would flush her out of her hole. I trigger the doorbell to ring but Stephanie didn’t do anything. I re-trigger it three more time with urgency.
“I’m coming. Who the hell is it?” Stephanie grunted with annoyance.