Reflective Recount – The Nightmare

That Monday Morning was probably my worst. I was waiting for my lunch order at the canteen,
when two boys, of good build, came up to me. Year 9s I said to myself. One of them was intimidating
and seemingly strong, the other lean and short.

“Pass me the cash”, the strong boy growled. As soon as those words came out of his mouth, my
body froze. I could feel the sudden, awkward silence. People’s whispers and gestures barely met my
eyes and ears. I had seen bullying. I was a part of it. It was a form of entertainment, watching the
Year 7 suffer. And now, I deeply regret it. It was fate, that I had to suffer the same way as he did.

“Are you deaf? I said pass!”

Finally mustering the courage to speak, I whimpered, “P-Please, I don’t h-have any!”

He held up a rude gesture, forcing me to look down. My ears were so red, I could feel the heat. A
few tears splashed on the concrete, adding to the wet puddle formed by the rain. It was too much to
bear. I could feel the dying footsteps, and the noise rose, but the not as much as it normally was.

Now I know what it feels like. The pain, it’s horrible. This pain was a punishment for me bullying. You
have no choice but to accept it, I said to myself. Perhaps, that’s what drives bullying. Being bullied, it
causes a cycle of sorrow that never stops. The boys who bullied me may have experienced bullying
themselves. And now he is trying to extinguish his sorrow by forcing it upon me. Bullying – it’s a
nightmare that’s come to life.