Thursday, October 06, 2005


I heard that my neighborhood bully had died recently. What can you say about someone who had terrorized everybody in his grade, with beatings, thefts, threats and just plain meaness?

I can say this: How he made it this far, with his rotten father, crazy brother (criminally insane), and lack of compassion by all those that were frightened by him, was a miracle. In later years, his health suffered- I glimpsed him about ten years ago (he would have been about 45 then) and he looked 70.

I can say this: In fifth grade, he was in a skit with me and another boy for the school's talent show. He was still a little kid, his development was about three years behind everyone else. He was just a brat then, his flowers of evil had yet to flower. He had an infectious laugh, and he stole the show.

I can say this: People say that some kids are born bad. He was not, he was just stuck in the wrong family. He was bright, he was funny, but he was bent. The rod was not spared with him, either. It was used without mercy, without sense, and it ruined him. As soon as he was old enough, he escaped into his own world, a world of pain and frustration. It was all he knew.

By Professor Batty


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