Blog of a Bully

by Stephen Zanzucchi

  You can always find happiness at work on Friday.

  Well, it’s Friday, and I don’t feel a thing.

  Thursday, May 12th, 2011

  7:55 p.m.

  No Time to Talk

  This whole week has been very frustrating. All I have wanted to do is talk to Donald, but he keeps avoiding me. I guess that is the natural reaction a person would have if he or she committed a crime and didn’t want to get caught. But Donald doesn’t know that I know, and I know he doesn’t know that I know; I just know it, you know? I don’t know. Maybe Hercules told Donald he told me. But Hercules has been acting normal, like nothing is up, and he’s not a very good actor when he has some kind of secret.

  Well, something had to be done, so I went to the principal’s office to have a talk. I really was hoping to settle this without involving the principal, but Donald left me no choice. I must have been in the principal’s office for over an hour. He wanted to see the video, and he wanted to know the plan. He also told me he read my blog and was quite fascinated with it to, the point that he would trust me and go with whatever plan I came up with. That’s what I was hoping for. I love it when adults allow kids to make their own mistakes in life without butting in too much. I have an idea that might make things better, and I know if I had told my parents they would have pressed charges and messed this whole thing up.

  I told the principal my plans, what might happen, and what he should do. We covered every possible angle of this case and what we should do in reaction. It was like playing a game of chess, but with humans. If Donald does this, then I will do this, and we have to think a few moves ahead of Donald. The principal was very shocked by my plan, but most importantly he was willing to give it a try. So, tomorrow I will let you know how things go.

  You will have a very pleasant experience.

  I will have an experience, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say it will be pleasant.

  Friday, May 13th 2011

  9:33 p.m.

  What an Unlucky Day

  Did the day of my plans really have to fall on Friday the 13th? How lucky can one guy be? It doesn’t get better than this, folks. Today was only a half day, so I had to work fast. I got to school by way of the bus, thanks to Donald, and I went straight to the principal’s office. We went over the plans once again and all the possible outcomes that might take place.

  School started, and the principal called Donald to his office. The principal only called to the classroom Donald was in, rather than using the intercom for the whole school. We wanted this meeting to be as private as possible. Donald arrived, and once he saw me, you could tell by the look on his face he knew he was in deep trouble. He sat down, and the principal started in about how he found out about the bike incident, how he also knew about the balloons full of paint, and how at any second he could call the cops and have Donald sent to a detention center.

  Donald tried to get out of it by saying he had nothing to do with the bike thing, and that’s when the principal flipped on the tape. Donald watched in horror. I can’t imagine how embarrassed he must have felt to watch himself committing a crime he had just lied about. Donald tried to tell the principal how an old lady gave him a knife and forced him to destroy my bike, but he stopped and confessed. I must give him credit—after being caught red-handed, he still tried to wiggle his way out. He’s a fighter.

  I started by reminding Donald how we used to be good friends and how we tried to change our lives together, even though it was mostly him. I told him that all I wanted was for us to be friends again and that the principal and I were willing to drop every charge we could think of to hold against him. Without hesitation, Donald agreed. The principal and I gave each other a puzzled look and asked what he meant. He said all he wanted was to be friends with me again and everything he had done was to get attention from me. The principal and I were still confused, and we didn’t know what to say or do. This was one angle of the situation we never thought to cover. Did Donald seriously want to be friends with me? If so, he has a funny way of showing it.

  I told Donald I wanted him to spend the night with me tonight, and he said sure. I was still confused why he was giving in so freely, without a struggle. So I told him to come over around five and we’d have a blast. He said OK, and we went back to class. Our half day was nearly over by then, but I was glad to get this whole thing settled.

  Donald came over at five sharp. He looked and acted excited to be hanging out with me again. We played video games and board games, and Donald even let Jessica win a round or two of Snakes ’N’ Ladders. I think Jessica now has a crush on Donald. What an amazing change this has been for him. We are getting ready to go to bed now, or at least that is what we told my parents. I assume we will try to pull a prank on Jessica. Hopefully, this time the prank is actually on her instead of me. So have a good night, and wish me luck.

  A warm smile is testimony of a generous nature.

  I sure hope so; Donald seems very happy.

  Monday, May 16th, 2011

  7:31 p.m.

  Last Week of School

  As the bus pulled up to the school today, I could see there were a number of cops there. I couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. I saw that the window of the principal’s office had been broken. Ironic, I thought, because that was the same window Buzz threatened to throw a rock through.

  I went to class, and Mrs. Logan stopped me at the door and said I had better go to the principal’s office. I figured he was busy with the police but maybe he wanted to know how things went with Donald. I walked over there, and I waved to the principal. He signaled me over, and we stepped into the nurse’s office. I told him the sleepover went well and that Donald and I played all sorts of games. The principal interrupted me by asking, “Why did you do it?” I told him that I wanted to be friends with Donald, so I taped him destroying my bike. He interrupted again. “Not that. Why did you throw the rock through my window?” I was confused, but then I realized I was in here for the crime of throwing a rock through the window of the principal’s office.

  I guess this is how Donald must have felt last Friday, but I know I’m innocent. I told the principal I didn’t do it, and he brought out his evidence, which indicated otherwise. It was the rock that Buzz and Angela made for me, along with a letter. He said this was the rock that went through his window and it had this letter wrapped around it:

  Deer principle,

  I am in love with your daughter. How can you let a meen kid like Buzz go out with her befor me? I thout we were cool. I thout we were a team. But now I see you are a back stabber. I hate you, and I hate you’re school. please send me somewhere ells.

  Love Bradley.

  P.S. You smell funny

  When I read the letter, I laughed. I told the principal he could look through all my work and see that I would never make so many mistakes. He told me that could be a good cover up for me, and so he thinks I did that on purpose to frame Donald. He told me that he felt Donald was sincere with his desires to be friends again and this was a horrible way of getting back at Donald for what he did to my bike. I asked the principal why I would write my name on the letter, and he said he had no idea why I put my name on it. But he said that maybe I thought I could abuse the principal’s trust by trying to convince him that Donald did this.

  I couldn’t think clearly. Thoughts were rushing through my head like a washing machine on spin cycle. How could Donald do this to me? How did Donald do this to me? When did he get the rock? Was this during my sleepover? It must have been then. He must have taken the rock from me then.

  The principal then said something very shocking to me that flipped my world upside down. He said that I will finish out the day here at this school, but I will be taken to a detention center in the morning. He then opened the door for me to leave. What was I going to do? This will permanently be on my record. I will have no chance at college or a real job. I will be flipping burgers or bagging groceries or just living with my parents for the rest of my lif
e. I walked out, and from across the school yard I saw Donald. He had a smirk on his face that I wanted to rip off.

  Right then, the world went silent. All I could hear was my heart beat. I only had one thought on my mind, “Get him!” I headed for Donald and tackled him. I didn’t care what the consequences were, I wanted him to pay. I let him kill my bike just to be friends, and what did he give me in return? I was on top of him, screaming and yelling and swinging my balled-up fists at everything. I don’t know if I ever hit Donald, but I do remember hitting a tree and hitting the ground, and I even think I hit myself a few times. I didn’t care. I wanted blood, even if it was my own.

  The principal pulled me off Donald, and I was still yelling. I was demanding to know why Donald did this to me. Donald was pulled up as well, and I saw he had a bloody nose. I was happy; I must have nailed him at some point. I tried again to tell the principal that I didn’t do it and Donald did. Finally the principal asked Donald if he was the one who threw the rock through the window. Donald looked around at everything—the ground, the police, the window, and finally at me. He must have stared at me for a good minute and then finally said, “Yes, I’m the one who threw the rock.”

  A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. I never would have guessed Donald would man up to his crime since no one but me knew he did it. The principal let both of us go and told us to go home, that he would call our parents. We were told not to come back to school until the principal had met with our parents to resolve the crimes.

  On the way home, I thanked Donald for confessing. He said he was sorry and he hoped this whole thing was really over. This time I believe him.

  Your everlasting patience will be rewarded sooner or later.

  Sooner, I hope.

  Friday, May 20th, 2011

  3:11 p.m.

  Last Day of School

  The principal finally met with both sets of parents in the same room. After a nice three-hour conference telling the parents what their students have been doing, both sets of parents agreed to the following terms:

  Donald and Bradley are to help with first-grade summer school until the first of July.

  Donald and Bradley are to repaint all the bathroom stalls.

  Donald and Bradley are to work to pay for the paint for the bathroom and for the broken window.

  This is the list of things Donald and I need to accomplish before the beginning of the next school year; if we don’t, we will both be flunked and held back a year. I would hate to do eighth grade all over again. As for my bully reputation at this school, well, I am sure it will end, seeing that if Donald and I fulfill the list we will be freshmen in high school. We will be at the bottom of the totem pole. There will already be enough bullies going around, and there won’t be enough room for two more, especially if we are only freshmen.

  School was short, another half day. But I was able to talk to Buzz and Angela before I left. Angela gave my rock back and told me to hold on to it this time. We laughed and I told them about Donald and my list of things to do. Buzz and Angela already knew about it, and they said they would help out with the fundraising part of it. I guess that would give Buzz and Angela a reason to hang out during the summer. Donald and I are happy to have any help Buzz and Angela feel like giving.

  Later, Donald joined the conversation and as we finally went our separate ways, I told Donald I would see him Monday morning for summer school, and I told Buzz and Angela I would call them when Donald and I need their help. As I was walking home, I couldn’t help but reflect on what an amazing year this has been. Sure it was a winding roller coaster, with its ups and downs, but overall, I have made new friends and all my enemies are now my friends as well. Who could ask for more?

  Learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere.

  Yep, just like a stray cat that you accidentally feed. It will follow you and haunt you.

  July

  Friday, July 1st, 2011

  8:25 p.m.

  Long Time No Type

  It has been a while since I have added to my blog. A lot of you were wondering what happened to me, and some of you actually made predictions as to what happened to me. One person wrote, “Donald and Bradley must have forgotten to feed the first graders, so they were eaten alive.” No, I’m still here, but one kid did bite me. Another person guessed our parents locked us in our rooms for the rest of our lives. Closer, but still wrong—I was grounded from my computer until we finished summer school, and today was our last day. But the winner of the month goes to the person who wrote: “Bradley’s blog became so famous among the different alien-infested planets that everyone mentioned in the blog was captured by aliens and forced to perform evening shows at all the space night clubs, and if Bradley couldn’t make the crowd laugh, they would confiscate his toe nails.”

  Candice, that is ridiculous; wouldn’t you be one of the people captured? Well, you won anyway, and it was great to hear from you again. I must inform you that this is your last time winning, because you have an unfair advantage over the rest of my readers. Sorry. Don’t hate me.

  Summer school was a blast. I got to hang with first graders, and they are the cutest little things on earth. I was surprised how small they were. When I was in first grade, I wasn’t that small. But the thing that really made it fun was hanging out with Donald. We talked and talked and would get in trouble with the teacher, Mrs. Logan. But she understood our relationship needed some healing. I was impressed to hear about how Donald came up with his different pranks, but the thing that made us laugh the hardest was how he got my locker open. He used the same method that I did, but it didn’t work every time. He must have hit his head on my locker half a dozen times until it finally opened. I told him that if it didn’t open on my first try, I gave up. It was good to have a friend again.

  We told all the first graders how we went to Desert Storm together, and we got a ton of gold medals and purple hearts and blue ribbons for taking turns carrying each other across enemy lines. We also told the munchkins that we missed our helicopter back to America, so we hopped on some dolphins and rode them back home. It felt like old times, and those first graders believed every word. We had plenty of time while painting bathroom stalls to come up with the different stories to tell them.

  As for making the money, well we did that in one day. We gathered the troops—Angela, Buzz, Jacob, Hercules, and Tim came to help Donald and me. Even Tom and Doyle came, and they haven’t helped Buzz or even spoken to him for half a year or so. They didn’t approve of Buzz wanting to change and get a girlfriend, but they came to help us raise money. But the best part was Candice. She came to help, and she looked beautiful.

  Angela and Candice ran a lemonade stand with me, while Buzz and the other guys got customers for a car wash. They did the usual and wrote on everyone’s cars. But this time they wrote things like, “Your car smells like sucky tuna! Take it to the free car wash at the school, and bring money for a donation and lemonade.”

  The school parking lot where we held the car wash was packed, and we made more than the amount or money the principal asked for us to pay for damages. Donald suggested we use the leftover money to buy me a bike. I loved the idea, but I would rather spend the money on a memory instead of something that will gather dust. We all went out to the movies and had a blast. We felt like we ruled the place because we were shouting at the screen, throwing popcorn at people telling us to be quiet, and shooting spit wads at people in the dark. Yes, within ten minutes we were asked to leave with no refund, but that was expected. We were all just too excited to be alive, to be teenagers, and to all be friends. I wouldn’t trade that ten minutes worth of memory for the fanciest bike in the whole world.

  We all eventually went our separate ways, and some of us cried as we left. Soon summer will be over, and a new chapter of our lives will begin … High School. It’s a scary step for all of us, but if we go in as friends, then we know we can handle any amount of opposition that comes our way. Life will be filled with new peop
le and new adventures, but at least this time I won’t be a bully. I can’t change what I did in my past, but I can look ahead and take control of my future.

  You will be very lucky in the coming year.

  Luck, what kind of luck? Lucky as in I win money? Lucky as in I’ll have nice teachers, or do you mean lucky to be alive? Now you have me worried, cookie!