There was a kid who use to whip me all the time when I was in the six grade. He was much bigger than me and he seemed to receive much joy from beating me about the head and face. I never ran from him because I knew he would find me the next day and continue his joy of beating the tar out of me.
Just before school let out for the summer I saw ol’ bully tough guy running toward me and I new what was coming. During all the times we had fought I had never cried. This time was different. This time he tore my shirt that my father had worked so hard to get for me that I cried. He laughed and said he would see me again. As he walked away I told him that one day I would be as big as him and the outcome would be different.
Long story short. Two years pass and I had not see the bully. I thought he had moved. One day as I was walking home from the bowling alley on Cleveland Avenue in East Point I saw the bully. He was strutting along like the Duke of Earl unaware that I was fast approaching him. When I got close to him I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. I wish I could say that I wore him out but I didn’t. He beat the tar out of me again only this time it took a little longer for him to introduce my nose to my left and right ear.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. Some people you just gotta leave alone.
James
I had a similar problem. I handled it a little differently.
"My" bully had a little brother who was around my age and size. I took the little brother aside and told him the next time his brother laid a hand on me I would beat him to a pulp.
The bully never bothered me again. Maybe it wasn't "fair" to the little brother, but it worked!