Blog of a Bully

by Stephen Zanzucchi

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  Blog of a Bully

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright © 2012 Stephen Zanzucchi

  v2.0

  Cover Illustration © 2012 Adam Pope. All rights reserved - used with permission.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  Table of Contents

  Edited by Suzy Bills

  Summer

  School

  September

  October

  November

  December

  January

  February

  March

  April

  May

  July

  Edited by Suzy Bills

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  Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011

  12:46 a.m.

  Awakening

  I can’t sleep. I have too much on my mind. Strange is the only word that comes to mind when I think about what happened to me yesterday. I guess you could say I had an awakening. While delivering the world’s wettest swirly to a much-deserving runt of a kid, I paused to take in the whole scene. Can you picture it? I had the kid hanging upside down, with the whole student body, at least as many as could fit in the restroom, chanting my name:

  “Bradley, Bradley!”

  It sounded so sweet, but then, with the runt’s scrawny ankles in my hands, I began to wonder how I got there. I finished the swirly and ran home. All the way I was thinking, how did a scrawny kid known as Bradley the Brain turn into this mean person whose name strikes fear into the hearts of his fellow students and who picks on kids smaller than himself?

  The best way to uncover the story of my life—my transition from nerd to bully—will be to go back and read the beginning of my blog. There are only two weeks left of school. Do I really want to end my eighth-grade year like this? Will I find a way out of my life of torture, destruction, and bullying? Is two weeks long enough to get off my current social path of doom and gloom, or will I go into summer with a bad reputation a mile long?

  Where there is a will, there is a way.

  Man, I really hope so.

  Summer

  Thursday, June 10th, 2010

  5:31 p.m.

  Welcome

  Diaries and journals are overrated. Nothing like dragging a set of handwritten books around your whole life, and then when you die, your kids might just trash them. So what good are they? So, I say if you are going to keep a journal, write it for you, but write it knowing that someday your younger brother or sister will read it and tell everyone at school. Yes, I am talking from personal experience.

  That leads me to what I am doing now. I chucked my journal and started a blog! I figure if everyone is going to find out what I write anyway, I might as well be the one putting my life on display for the world to see. I chose a blog because I am a modern kind of guy. I like to stay up-to-date with technology. So to all of those who are reading my new blog: Welcome. I type in peace.

  My name is Bradley Duncan. I am 13 years old, and I live in California. I will not be specific about the location, and the names of people, places, and things have been changed to protect the guilty. I plan to blog about my life and adventures as a growing teen. If you were expecting a blog about vampires or cute girls, you are in the wrong place and should continue surfing.

  Now for my disclaimer: I’m 13, so please give me a break when it comes to spelling, grammar, and punctuation. I want this to be a fun blog. Also, don’t expect me to type something every night. I have a life, and it is filled with homework, chores, and bossy parents. So I shouldn’t be expected to have something new every day. In addition to me allowing you a glimpse of my life, I will also draw pictures and scan them in from time to time, free of charge. I am not the best artist in the world, but give me credit for trying to be a little different.

  Just a little about me … I am considered by my friends to be a nerd. My nickname in school is Bradley the Brain. I prefer the Wiz Kid, but that may lead people to think other things of me instead of being a nerd. I like to learn. I like straight A’s. I get bored fast, so instead of playing games I choose to learn. I know useless things you would never dare to learn, like Braille. I had nothing to do one day, so I learned and memorized the raised-dot system. I hope to never need the knowledge, but I am now prepared. I love to surf the Net, learning everything. I love to bug my parents about their day and what they enjoyed doing. I love to read or watch anything related to history, discovery, science, space, or engineering…or basically anything else I can find.

  Like I said before, welcome and thanks for reading the blog of my life. Feel free to e-mail your comments to me. I will not mention your name or username, but I may comment on your comments. I have written enough for today and will add more later. Thank you one and all.

  Saturday, June 12th, 2010

  7:23 p.m.

  Moving Time

  I really, really, really don’t want to move. I have cool friends. Well, they’re nerds like me, but still cool guys. Now I will never see them again because my dad’s company wants us to move to the other side of the country. What’s in Texas anyway? How can you go from California to Texas? How can Mom and Dad do this to me?

  Mom says, “It will be a fun adventure for all of us.” Does she have to start the eighth grade off in a new state where she doesn’t know anyone? No! All she cares about is her precious little princess who can’t do anything wrong, Jessica. She’s my snot-nosed little brat of a sister, who gets everything she wants on her Christmas list. Jessica is happy we are moving. Why should it bother her? She doesn’t even know what town she lives in now. She won’t care where Texas is. Five year olds—word from the wise: Don’t have one.

  How can you start at the top of the grade level in a whole new school where no one knows you? It is like starting fresh at the top, but at the bottom of the top. I would assume it would be like going to work at a grocery store and on your first day you are promoted to manager. Naturally, the bag boys and cashiers will hate you, and the managers that have worked hard and put in the time for their positions will despise you because you are their new competition.

  I can’t think about this anymore. I’m logging off.

  Sunday, June 13th, 2010

  5:12 p.m.

  Sorry

  Sorry I took my anger out on you last night. I was very upset, and I had to get my thoughts out without yelling at someone. Thanks for helping me calm down. Sorry for really starting my blog off with a bang.

  Well, I’m moving. There is nothing I can do about that. I told my friends this morning that I was moving, and they didn’t seem to care. I told Joe I was moving, and he said, “So what? Everyone moves.” I guess he forgot that if I moved he would have no one brave enoug
h to sleep over at his house. When I told my other so-called friend, Marcos, he wanted to know if he could have my video games. I told him I was moving, not dying.

  With friends like mine, who needs video games anyhow? So I gave Marcos one of my video games and asked him what my going away present from him was. He gave back the game. Cheapskate!

  So my “friends” helped me feel better about the move. Maybe Mom was right when she said that this move will be a fun adventure for us all.

  Thank you for your e-mail comments letting me know that Texas is an OK place to live. And special thanks goes out to the one person whose e-mail said, and I quote:

  HAHAHAHAHAHAH SUCKER!!!!!

  I am not sure exactly what you meant by that, but a sucker sounds nice right about now. I did get a good giggle out of that comment, so thanks.

  Wednesday, June 30th, 2010

  10:54 a.m.

  Packing Stinks

  Sorry I haven’t written for a while. Packing up all my stuff is hard, frustrating, and time-consuming. Definitely not the fun adventure I was hoping for. Although, I finally found my Queen’s Greatest Hits CD that I lost half a year ago. It was under my parents’ mattress on my mom’s side of the bed. I knew she didn’t like that CD, but she didn’t have to hide it from me and insist that I was the one who lost it.

  I have come to like the idea of moving. I realized I am considered to be a nerd by the kids I grew up with. If I move, no one will know me and they won’t know I am a geek. I will have a fresh start and can be something new. There are still a few weeks left in the summer. I could pump some iron and get my muscles big to impress those Texan girls. Or I could take some karate classes and watch martial arts movies in case the kids in Texas pick on me. I will be the one laughing if I pound them first. Hahaha.

  I will have to let you know what I finally decide on. Now for the bad news. I told you I was packing … well, I have one more box to finish packing, and you are going in it. Sorry. I hate to do this to you, but I got to. I will see and write on you in a few days, when I unpack you in Texas. Stay away from water, and there are no such things as ghost. I hope you are not afraid of the dark, and play nice with the other school supplies I packed you with.

  Sunday, July 24th, 2010

  3:09 p.m.

  New Town, New Place, Strange People

  There you are. It has been a few weeks. I didn’t label any of the boxes I packed, and guess what? You were in the last box. So that is why it took me forever to find you. If I would have started at the end, I would have found you first. But you can’t start at the end. It would ruin the rest of the adventure. It also took my dad a while to hook up the Internet so I could actually blog. I don’t see how my parents can live three weeks without Internet connection. I guess they prefer living in the Stone Age.

  I have come to like Texas. The weather keeps changing, like my aunt’s attitude, and the people here talk funny. They say “y’all,” which stands for “you all,” when referring to two or more people. To make “y’all” even more plural than it already is, some people will say “all y’all,” which I could only assume still stands for two or more people. “Fixin’” is another popular word used in sentences like “we were just fixin’ to get out of here.” But the craziest phrase I have heard today was from a boy who was really enjoying his lunch at the Waffle House. He said, “This sandwich is so good, it makes you want to slap your grandma.” I guess these Texans like to slap old ladies. I’m joking. I’m sure it was a phrase to explain how great the food was, just like “finger-licking good.”

  Now, like I told you, I was thinking of making changes to myself to impress the kids at my new school. Well, I managed to really bulk up. My muscles are huge. I also managed to dye my skin green, and puberty was a flash, so I now have this amazingly deep voice that would intimidate a Greek god.

  Ok, I did nothing, absolutely nothing. Don’t judge me, I’m only human. I wanted to at least learn to juggle, but when Jessica saw me with three balls in my hands, she wanted one.

  The squeaky wheel always gets the oil.

  (This is a quote I got from a fortune cookie today. I thought it was very appropriate with my feelings about my sister Jessica.) Jessica cried and cried until that mother of mine took one of my juggling balls and gave it to the brat.

  I refused to learn how to juggle with only two balls, so I threw the other two at Jessica. One ball got lucky and nailed her in the head. She cried and cried until I was sent to my room. I was planning on blogging anyways, so that really worked out.

  Sunday, August 8th, 2010

  9:30 p.m.

  Cookie Day

  Ok, I know that I shouldn’t have chucked a ball at my sister. After reading your very rebuking comments, I felt regret and sorrow for what I did. Not enough to really apologize, but I have been a little nicer to Jessica. I must say there were a number of you who were on my side with your comments and felt I was in the right on this one.

  Now for the cookies. We live close to an Asian market and I love the little fortune cookies the market sells. So I am going to collect the fortunes and include one in every blog entry I write. Yeah, I am finally collecting something. Some of my old friends collected comic books, baseball cards, or belly button lint; I will collect fortunes from fortune cookies. My cup of joy is overflowing.

  Yes, I find myself to be rather silly. I had big dreams of becoming the Incredible Hulk in three weeks, and I passed that up to collect little pieces of papers from cookies. I guess it could be worse. I could start collecting dead flies or something.

  A penny saved is a penny earned. (New fortune)

  I would like to liken this fortune to my collection of fortunes. A fortune saved is a fortune earned. Wonderful hobby of mine; I’m glad I thought of it.

  Well, I had better go to bed now. I forgot to tell you, but tomorrow is my first day at my new school. I will start at the bottom of the top. If I just lost you on that comment, then you need to go back and reread what I have written. When you are done, there will be a quiz. I’m joking. Well, have a good night. Tomorrow I will tell you how everything went at school.

  School

  Monday, August 9th, 2010

  7:41 p.m.

  A Rough Start

  Today was good but could have been better at the same time. I got ready for school and was then informed by my mom that she will no longer give me a ride because we live close enough to ride the bus. I had never been on a bus, so I was nervous.

  I could only describe the bus appropriately by calling the bus The Jungle Bus. The kids on that thing were just like a jungle: wild, spontaneous, crazy, and poisonous. The driver was like an old hippy, and I was given an assigned seat next to Hercules. What set of horrible parents would be dumb enough to name their kid Hercules? I guess they felt if Zeus could call his boy that, then they could too. That boy smelled like fish and had flaming red hair. I doubt he is half immortal. The whole ride to school, Hercules went on and on about his silly PEZ dispenser collection. I guess I shouldn’t say anything bad about it; after all, I collect fortunes from cookies.

  The school was a sore sight to behold. A big grey building with a chain-link fence around the place. I wasn’t sure if I was going to school or jail. I was sure the food would taste like jail food.

  Once I was inside, I whipped out my little school map and tried to find my homeroom. I must tell you something, but please keep it a SECRET. I’m joking.

  I’m not good with maps.

  Maybe I would have done better if it had an X telling me where I was, an arrow showing me which way I was pointed, and a red-dotted path laying out the route I needed to take to get to class. But this map was a horrible xeroxed copy of a copy with fuzzy numbers and half of a key.

  I stood there useless, and I didn’t know what to do. For a split second I even looked down at the ground to see if there were any bread crumbs or painted foot prints for me to follow. Then some loser bumped my shoulder, and I dropped the map. As I bent down to retrieve my piece of trash m
ap, that’s when it happened. The clouds parted, trumpets sounded, and an angel appeared in front of me. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. I swear when she opened her mouth to speak, harps started to play … It finally clicked that she was trying to say something to me, so I snapped out of it.

  She asked me if I was lost, and I was. But my mom didn’t raise a fool (except for Jessica), so I told her I was not lost and I knew everything about the school and could not possibly ever get lost. She then saw on my schedule that I had Mrs. Logan for a homeroom teacher and smiled. She was excited because she too had Mrs. Logan.

  Sad to say, I’m a guy, so I said the first thing that came to my mind in order to look tough. “Big deal. This is a small school compared to what I came from.” What is my problem? She rolled her eyes and walked off. I can’t blame her; I was a jerk. She has the neatest accent.

  For the next five minutes, it may have looked like I was stalking her in secret, but I promise I was only following her to get to class.

  The rest of school was OK. I couldn’t really focus on much. My brain came up with a million other things I should have said to her after the fact. I don’t even know her name.

  In conclusion, on my first day of school, before class even began, I managed to make a rude fool of myself in front of the prettiest girl in the world.

  You will be lucky in love.

  At this point, luck could only help. I really blew it.

  Tuesday, August 10th, 2010

  7: 58 p.m.

  It Gets Worse

  Today was about the same as yesterday, but in a different way. If that makes any sense. Instead of being a jerk in front of the girl of my dreams, I was a jerk to the school bully. I had no idea he was the school bully at the time. I was sitting next to Hercules at lunch—I figured he was the only kid that would speak to me, so why not sit by him. That’s when it happened. I had to sneeze. I didn’t want to sneeze on my food, or Hercules’s food. So to avoid sneezing on food altogether, I stood up, turned, and sneezed.

  A short, chubby boy was standing in the line of fire when I sneezed. I wish he had a napkin or tissue in his hands at that time, but it was his lunch tray, and I sneezed all over his food.