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Part One: Enter Little Johnny
Once upon a time, I was young and innocent, so very long ago. I lived with my single neglectful alcoholic and destitute mother. Yes, I was innocent, but not fully. By that young age I had already been through a few horrifying traumatic experiences, and didn't come out unscathed, but I was still a small thin fairly quiet boy regardless.
Keeping to myself wasn't just a habit, but my natural inclination. I hated violence, being a terrified witness to my long-dead beloved guinea pig blown up in my face by modern-day brigands and thugs, for their amusement.
Also facing certain death at the hands of a very violent and cold mother nature the very next year. It's hard to keep total innocence when one has heard your very name called intimately on the wind by death Himself. Whether young or old, that will change you, and not always for the good.
By the age of 7 years old, I knew extreme anger, and terror, and violence, though had committed none myself, but the seeds were there certainly. Because the things I had been through were of such a horrible nature, not only were the beginnings of psychotic behavior already growing inside me by the time I met my first and last school bully, but possibly a world-ending rage and potential for extreme violence as well was long within me. They were both there, just needed to grow, or be nurtured by the wrong circumstances.
I didn’t start out bad, or evil, but I learned too damned soon. I would end up responding as only a hunted animal would react if pushed too far. Never forget, true monsters aren’t born that way, we are created, forged over time in the fires of hate. Innocence was something I started out with, but it rapidly got dissolved into something else, an attitude more realistic, and better able to deal with the world on its own terms. Certainly far more negative, like a survival instinct, but more aggressive as well.
Part Two: Enter the Bully
One long day, when lunchtime at school came, I went to a seat in the school cafeteria away from everyone, as always I preferred to eat alone. To me, quiet was a luxury I rarely had, but longed for. Looking around, it was a large dining area, standard for Buffalo public schools. Its high ceiling and far walls had echo effects all around. The sounds of students and teachers became a kind of background gibberish, like white noise, unavoidable, but still far enough away from me for me to enjoy some peace.
I mainly preferred to ignore all others, including the teachers in charge, who sat only with each other in the far corner of the vast room, trying for the moment to enjoy lunch away from their loud obnoxious charges, meaning us their students. I sat alone, attempting to eat my state-provided sad meal in peace, if possible. That’s all I wanted, a quiet meal, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. On this particular day, early in the school year, I munched away, happy as a rabbit nibbling in my small moment to exist. I heard a footstep too close behind me, then my world changed. I saw stars all around my field of vision, and a sharp fast powerful pain in the back of my skull, while my head thrust forward almost hitting my lunch tray. After a few seconds, the stars left, but the pain remained.
I looked around and saw a tall lanky blonde haired boy walking away and sniggering to himself. This was the first time I’d ever seen him. In my pain and embarrassment, so started the rising of a creature that was buried deep inside of me. Ever since seeing my dead piggy explode at the hands of tormentors. Since that day, the darkness was a part of me, buried, but very much there, and desiring to come out into this world.
This became a random occurrence, but a regular one, and since that very first time, strangely enough, no one saw a thing. Either a wild coincidence or perfect timing on his part, take your pick.
So once in a while, whenever I wasn’t actively watching, I’d be eating, and my new nemesis would come up behind me while I was deeply involved with my food, and slap the back of my head, hard!
Every time was the same pain as the first, and seeing bright stars born of agony at my midday meal became a regular part of my school year. They say you can get used to just about anything, painful or not. I have to disagree, I never did, each time it happened, it was like the very first time, just as demeaning and horrifying.
It never happened daily, that would have been easier to avoid, but randomly enough to become my personal lunchtime version of Hell. This abuse happened throughout the entire school year. Teachers in the cafeteria never seemed to notice it happening, or were always conveniently looking in another direction, either bad or perfect timing depending upon one’s perspective. Bad for the victim, perfect for the victim’s tormentor.
Much later on, a few times other kids around me would notice and laugh, par for the course. They seemed to love seeing it happen, but nary a witness around ever admitted it. Something I learned early, no one but me truly cared about me. A harsh lesson for a young boy to learn, but I learned it well.
Many humans in our society, old adults and young folks alike are just “going through the motions” with many aspects of their existence. Being polite for politeness sake, or not being polite, and not caring about anything else that’s NOT happening to themselves. It’s all a grand show for them to watch from afar, until and unless it ends up affecting them directly.
It occurred more often, and my rage built up. Like a planet-changing volcano, I would creep closer to a murderous explosion every time it would occur. I did my best to ignore it, but how could anyone for too long? Maybe Jesus Christ could have, but my name was Johnny, not Jesus. I had neither His patience nor forgiveness for my enemy.
I never did a thing to him, indeed I didn’t even know his name. I didn’t even want to at the time. I avoided being around him as often as I could. I knew he was two grades ahead of me, and a few years older, and certainly bigger and stronger. I told my teacher at the time, but she said she never saw a thing happen, and neither did my classmates when she asked them
It would come to an inevitable conclusion eventually. The more I consciously stayed away from him, the more it seemed he would seek me out, for his own personal amusement, as those types often do. A true young sadist in the making.
There was another time, due to school personnel constraints that they combined a few grades for gym class. We were put on teams to play indoor softball in the gymnasium. At some point I was running full speed for a base, and my nemesis was ahead of me, manning the base, and he conveniently put his foot out to trip me at the exact moment it would do the most damage, as it actually did.
I went flying like a very sorry superman, without the cape or ability to stop my own flight. However, the hard floor did that for me instead. I landed hard, and though I put my arm in front of my face, my front tooth still hit painfully, and I lost half of it then and there. He wasn’t blamed, because no one admitted to seeing his contributions, only my flight and bad landing. Yet again, my enemy seemed to have flawless timing. I didn’t smile often, and less so after this sadly. My rare smile would always be missing something, and my enemy bathed in this after that day I’m sure, but I didn’t, I bubbled, the rage inside me went from anger to murderous animal instincts. Something other than human was inside of me, ready for the right moment, or the wrong one for him certainly.
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Part Three: Bully's End
So, failing in my grades, being a scholastic and social loser, due to my uncooperativeness and stubbornness in school, having no friends or peers at all, as well as my utter hatred of any and all authority over myself, what finally happened was not surprising at all; Given the pressures and the personal violence towards me. It was building for a very long while, and when it ended, it was memorable, bloody, and well-deserved.
My final day came in that school, though I didn't know it then. I was sitting in the cafeteria, eating my meal, and I was also keeping a lookout for him, but had to devote some attention to my food as well.
As unpalatable as it was, it was still my lunch and well-needed sustenance. In a moment when I wasn’t looking, it happened for the final time. There were a few students within a few feet on both sides of me that day. Of course, none around me gave a single warning, they preferred to sit back and watch, and there was a real show that day for them, and for whatever God's watch and laugh at our cavortings. They laughed that day I’m sure.
My memory is cloudy, but I still remember what’s important from that time. So, I took a bite of my tasteless sandwich, and suddenly I was seeing actual stars yet again, with extreme sharp pain from the back of my head, but something snapped within myself. My reaction wasn’t a choice, not even close to one.
What happened next was not something rational, nor definable, and not even civilized, but closer to a force of nature than a human response. I remember jumping up, and the force was such that my chair flew to the back wall, hit the radiator, flew up, and shattered the large cafeteria window directly behind me.
I became Power personified, all strength and rage, but no actual thought. I didn’t need to, all thoughts were abolished, I was all instinct, reflexes, and bottomless hatred. Nothing human in me responded.
Only the merciless void reacted, which has neither empathy, guilt, nor regret. It just does things, no thought. I have vague cloudy memories of grabbing him by the neck, regardless of his size, height, and strength. As small as I was, he was an ant, less than nothing to me, not able to resist even in a small way. I had the strength of madness, of Hell itself. Inevitable and remorseless, and virtually unstoppable, for him at least. It must have been like trying to halt a Mammoth from stepping on you. If it wanted to step on you, it would do so. Period.
He was down, with me on top, with one hand crushing his throat, and my other hand a vertical hammer, pounding his face with inhuman intensity.
I was closer to a machine than a sentient being. Rational thought played no part in my efforts, only the fires of Eternity. His resistance was like an annoying feather, it didn’t slow me down in the least. His arms flailed, as weak to myself as spinning banana skins. I was just pounding straight down, sitting on top of him, almost like a mack truck, immovable, and relentless. Of course, most likely, this all happened pretty fast. When I jumped up, I was lightning itself as far as speed. Cheetahs are probably slower than my reaction to him at that time.
I have no memory of other kids’ reactions, or what they were yelling, but I know they were there all around us, either running away, or gathering close to watch, at least the morbidly inclined ones. I had become the Devil himself, taking a soul by bloody force, and many wanted to see this process for themselves, sick as it was.
This was no fight, this was a certain murder, deprived of the killing blow, lucky for him. I didn’t quit beating him for lack of effort I’m certain. Yes, as large as he was, he had no power to resist my wrath, none at all. However, as soon as my chair shattered the window behind me, teachers came running for all they were worth. They couldnt run fast enough to save him from me.
His only hope was the strength of others to rescue him, otherwise he was done for. So in real time, this happened within a few short minutes, maybe two or three, but for him and I, it was an eternity for both of us, we were there together. I was the punisher and he the punished. He had earned his way into his own personal damnation, and I was only too glad to be his personal demon giving him the grand tour.
My rage knew no bounds, no limits, and would not be placated, or ever satisfied, even though he was beyond cries for mercy. He was an animal below me, reduced to a piece of pitiful wailing meat, nothing else. I just pounded, and the more he struggled beneath me, the harder I hit. Maybe I was trying to erase his hateful face from existence, one feature at a time. I’m not sure, but everything that was happening to him, he certainly deserved it, as God as my witness, he was reaping what he’d long ago sown.
It was an event long overdue, he was bloody, whimpering, and whatever was left of him was quite sorry by now. Next thing I knew I had large arms around me, very strong, but not strong enough to stop my efforts. Compared to my strength, they were like cotton strings wrapped around me, at least at first.
A few seconds later, more arms showed up, and they turned into bands of iron that finally slowed my awful rage. Turns out it took 4 full grown male teachers to finally subdue me, nothing less, and all of them grabbed my arms and chest with full adult male power, eight arms around my small two.
I had the strength of the ages, in complete madness, even as a small child. On that day, something dark was born and broke out of me. A being so unlike my normal self it’s almost something alien to the human condition. A monster certainly, that knew no bounds, and nothing so civilized as mercy, and was the opposite of rationality. It was instinct and madness only. That's what came out of me right then, but never by my choice.
It was something made of rage itself, with no compunctions about the harm it caused, and scoffs at all forms of pain and adversity. This is the first memory I have of its real existence. This entity inside myself is so malevolent, it’s like the very depths of oblivion, and it would have no problem ending all the world with a sneer. It would end all who dwell here with no hesitation or thought whatsoever, except for its own mad laughter. However, for now, he was merely born, a mere fetus, subdued for the moment.
I was finally dragged off of my deserving victim, using all of the efforts of my captors. At least I was removed from what was left of him. His face was a bloody pulp, no visible nose, cheekbones bashed in, covered in red, eyes swelled closed, ugly as sin, and screaming and crying for his life.
He was like a sailor that had fallen over the world’s edge, confronted with the mercilessness of the void, lost forever.
A mangled victim of an unstoppable tornado, physically and mentally traumatized. The embodiment of pain itself, loud, disturbed and disturbing to see.
My temporary fate was being dragged to the principal’s office and isolated there, at least for a while. To be dealt with later. As for the unfortunate soul, an ambulance was immediately despatched, and he was taken away with all due speed.
From what I heard later he ended up in the critical care unit, to later on having cosmetic surgery to attempt to fix the extensive damage I had done to him, which I still believe to this day he well deserved. I imagine his bullying days were over, especially for smaller quiet kids.
So between the known history of my torment by my nemesis, their willful neglect in never bothering to rectify the situation before all this, and my young age, no charges were ever pressed against me. I was of course permanently expelled from this particular school, never to return. A week later, I was back in my old public school, yet again. They were not pleased to see me, not at all. I was gifted certainly, but not for the reasons they believed. I can’t really blame them, I'm not sure I would have wanted to deal with me either, I was the one piece that would never fit in a system designed for total conformity. I was a square peg trying to be forced into that infamous round hole. Good luck Buffalo teachers.
I never wanted to be there, resented it, and made it well known to others. Like it was my duty to make it a living Hell on those authorities in charge of me, and I tried my damned best to fulfill it. Any job you do, do it well, and I certainly did. Ask my final Bully, he might agree.
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