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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1514694-The-Bully
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1514694
A story about a bully.
         “Dionaea muscipula.  The Venus flytrap.  It is one of several types of carnivorous plants.  This plant eats a fly, spider, or other insect after trapping it.  These insects are drawn to the plant through its coloring which most other flowers use to attract insects for pollination.  Andy, what does pollination mean?
         “Andy?”
         The boy continued writing on his desk, perfectly oblivious to Mr. Brown’s lecture or question.  Thoughts of the stories of Fairview Park flashed repeatedly through his mind.  It seemed impossible to the child that the kids at the park played in perfect harmony, without ever worrying about a bully picking on them.  Andy heard the stories of Fairview clear over in Georgetown from one of the other kids after he mentioned his parents planned on moving to the quaint little town.  He longed to see this mythical park for himself.
         Andy successfully kept himself awake through the boring lecture by entertaining the many possibilities that now lay before him.  A park without bullies meant no social order, no rank and file among the juveniles who typically ran the playground through threats, intimidation, and, if necessary, brute force.  The psychological scarring of one child from another, larger child had not yet marred the virgin soil of Fairview Park.  The park remained unclaimed property, available to whoever lived up to the task of taking his position at the top of the prepubescent food chain.  Andy decided he would take his place on the Bully Throne the instant he heard of the park’s existence in his new hometown.
         The school’s end-of-day bell still rang through the halls when Andy exited the building.  His pent-up excitement now burst through in the form of exhilarated running and skipping as he hurried to the park.  Since most of the younger kids left their schools earlier than Andy, the park seemed crammed with the laughter and shouting of children at play.  Everywhere he looked, small forms darted to and fro, each involved in some game or the make-belief fantasy of choice.  The merry-go-round, a flying saucer for aliens from planet Dizzy, according to the group currently playing on it, spun faster and faster as it primed for take-off.  Boys held competitions on the swings to see who would dare swing higher before jumping off.  Others on the many slides sat in groups of two, three, or more before scooting to the edge of oblivion and allowing themselves to drop, sliding clear to the bottom before racing back up the ladder for more.  A tiny kid ignored the others around him, perfectly content to play alone in a small sandbox near the park’s center.
         Andy entered bully Heaven.  He paused for a moment to savor the sight and decide on a path to follow in order to ensure the greatest results with the least amount of effort.  Andy figured out that particular secret of bullying years ago.  His bullying tactics worked best if he thought carefully about his targets and the impact their accosting would have on all other witnesses.  He thought himself incredibly smart for the manner in which he would systematically pick out his victims based on their size, age, or even gender, for at his age, many girls were larger than boys and deserved just as much bullying as the tiniest of children.
         He laid out his plans carefully before proceeding.  Once completed, Andy walked toward one of the larger boys, but not quite the largest one at the park.  So long as he chose a large enough child for this first phase of his dominance, it would give the larger ones pause before they moved against him, yet the size of the chosen child remained well within his capacity to handle should things turn ugly.  Andy took his place in line at a tall, spiral slide immediately behind his victim-to-be.  The moment they both reached the top, Andy shoved out hard, intending to push the boy hard enough to cause him to slide face-first and with little enough control to cause a few minor scratches or bruises upon hitting the ground.
Instead, his shove came far too strong and the other boy flew off the edge of the slide’s first turn.  The child overextended his right hand while attempting to brace himself from the impact on the ground and a piercing scream brought most other activity in the park to a momentary halt.  The boy, Tom, lay on the ground, clutching at his wrist and wailing in pain.
         Perfect, thought Andy, now I am really going to be in trouble.  There seemed little sense in worrying about his punishment now, however.  Andy decided he should take advantage of the situation rather than worry about the consequences.
         “That’ll teach you to get in my way!” he declared boldly.  “Anybody else have a problem or wanna get in my way?”
Aside from Tom’s wailing, no one moved or offered a word of protest.  The look of fear on almost every face only bolstered Andy’s resolve.  He walked to the merry-go-round and every child leapt from it to give the larger boy room to do as he pleased.
         One firm push and the crown now belonged to him.  Any punishment that came from this unfortunate accident would be well-worth the gains.  He proved his strength by shoving Tom off the top of a slide, and now, Andy would prove he possessed the willingness to brutalize absolutely anybody.  Both were essential, he knew, in order to keep order and remain firmly fixed at the top of the playground’s pecking order.  His searching, raptor-like gaze settled on the lone child playing in the sandbox, still unaware that anything occurred, despite Tom’s cries of pain.
         With a vicious grin, Andy stalked toward the smallest child.  When the others noticed where he headed, many raised apprehensive protests, but only one person moved to stop him.  Just before he reached the edge of the sandbox, Tom stepped before him.
         “Don’t,” he said while cradling his injured hand and attempted to stifle his sobs.  “He doesn’t understand.  He will think you are playing with him until you try to hurt him.  He won’t understand!  Leave him alone!”
         Andy glanced at the oblivious child still playing in the sandbox.  He did not intend on hurting him, just push him around a bit for effect.  What kind of monster did they think he was, anyway?  Andy shrugged and turned his gaze to Tom.
         “You want me to hurt your other arm, too?” asked Andy in a frighteningly calm voice.  Tom shook his head frantically and pleaded with Andy.
         “You don’t get it.  He’s like a baby!  He is here all the time and doesn’t think anybody will hurt him.  Leave him alone… or… or you’ll be sorry!”
         Tom spoke in obvious fear of the larger boy, but something in his voice carried a tone of defiance.  To Andy, Tom’s words sounded like a challenge.  He stepped forward and pushed Tom out of the way.  The smaller, already injured boy fell aside easily and scrambled away, still clutching at his hurt arm.
         “You don’t tell me what to do,” muttered the bully.  He entered the sandbox and walked up to the young child.
         “Hey, you little fart!”  Andy yelled while giving him a light slap across the head.  Oddly, the child responded by laughing and batting the air over his head.  That did not go quite as expected; Andy would simply have to try harder.
         “I’m not playing, stupid.  Quit laughing or I’ll beat you up!”
         The laughter continued.
         Frustrated, Andy decided to take more aggressive action.  If he allowed a four or five-year-old to laugh at him without being punished, any fear instilled in the other kids would be undone and they would grow more brazen in their attempts at defying him.
         Andy needed to set another example.
         He yelled and shoved at the laughing child with the same amount of force he used against Tom.  Rather than tumble away, the small boy fell back, then immediately returned to his sitting position.  The laughter, at least, had stopped.  The boy wore an expression of confusion rather than surprise or bewilderment.  Angry at not receiving the response he expected, Andy gave the child a harder shove.  Rather than fall back, the child remained right where he sat.
         Andy’s hands, however, penetrated the boy’s chest.
         Andy cried out in fear, afraid at first that he seriously injured the boy.  After a moment, however, his expression turned to one of utter confusion.  The young boy reached up and grasped Andy’s arms.  The bully attempted to pull his hands away, but they were fixed firmly in place, like the time he super-glued his index fingers together and his parents took him to the hospital to have them unglued.  Little by little, the child reached farther up along Andy’s arms, pulling him in deeper within himself.  A bolt of fear struck him when the sand beneath his feat shifted.
         Something beneath him moved!
         Andy started screaming for help, but the others simply watched or looked away.  The young child wore a blank expression now, and methodically went about his task.  Plantlike tendrils wriggled free from beneath the sand and started to wrap around Andy’s legs.  He attempted to kick them away and tugged in earnest at his arms to no avail.
         Like the child, the tendrils worming their way up Andy’s body suddenly became coated in a mucuslike adhesive that attached to him in an instant.  Within moments, Andy’s screams were muffled and he disappeared beneath the sand – tendrils, child, and all.
         The others at the park lost their desire to play for the rest of the day and most of the week.  Toward the end of the week, a tiny child appeared, playing at the center of the sandbox, occasionally laughing to himself, and ever oblivious to the others playing in the park around him.
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