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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2172790
Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #2172790
When we see someone being bullied, what do we do?
He always comes back. Bruised and bleeding. Even though they stand at the doors at the end of each day, waiting for him. Almost all who witness pass, and some only stay to watch. I sometimes watch, and if it gets too brutal I leave. This isn't for enjoyment or entertainment, don't mistake me. It's because, what can we do? If we step in, it's an automatic ticket to 'Bully Central'. That is a place you never want to go. Yet he always does.

Some of us think he is foolish, others only wish we were as brave as him. Whatever we think, we all hope that one day he fights back and wins. Of course, it has not happened. He endures and perseveres. At least, that's what is seems.

I always think about him. If I should help him or not. If I should step in just this once. But fear took me over every time I felt like I was finally going to be help. Then one day, I had a thought I would regret forever; better him than me. I shook my head at myself as I thought that, hanging it in shame.

Today I decided I would help him, I was finally going to put an end to his suffering. I may have to become the bullies new target to save him, but I was fine with that. I tried to spot him throughout the day, but he was nowhere to be found. I thought, what if he finally stayed home? That wasn't like him, but if the bullying got that bad then it's understandable.

Soon enough the day was over and I rushed out the doors before a crowd could build up and block me. Except he wasn't there either. I hid behind a wall, just in case the bullies got bored and started picking on another kid. I overheard them talking about him.

"Where is he?" One said, obviously just as knowledgeable as me when it comes to his whereabouts.

"Didn't you hear, man?" Another said, obviously annoyed," he moved!"

I felt myself crumble. He moved? when? I walked away in defeat, I never got the chance to show him. If I could've shown him that at least one person had enough decency to stand up for him, he could've been happier. I felt tears stinging my eyes. I missed my chance. A chance I'll never get again, and I wasted it.

I'm sorry.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2172790