Bully

Everyone has a bully, even if they say they don’t. They may not even think they do. They may look their abuser in the eye every day and then look away, see them and never once think it, read their hate with as much thought as they’d read the morning paper. They don’t notice it, but it’s there. And if they don’t notice it now, they’ll notice it later, at least I’d like to think that if you don’t notice it now, you’ll notice it later. Some day. Some day you’ll have to wake up and realize what happened. Although I have a feeling that one is probably worse. Some of these bullies are subtle. A tall figure standing over you, looking down on you, to make you feel small. Sometimes that’s all you need to be afraid.

Mine was more obvious. His name was Joshua Burroughs. We were in the same grade, that being sixth. In most common cases, it is the start of middle school. I know I still haven’t lived a lot (and for that matter I was dead for a bit of what I’ve lived already) but I can say with some certainty that middle school is the very worst time of your entire life. The very worst time to even be alive, because there’s not one day that you want to wake up and look forward to and you can’t even articulate why.

This is how it is for the people who get beat up, or get yelled at by their parents for not getting good grades or for acting suddenly weird because they don’t understand why there would be such a sudden change in their child when they were so normal in fifth grade. I can tell you why on that one. Parents will never understand it, of course, they get that cloud over them that makes them forget what it was like to be children the second they have children of their own. But the fact of the matter is: there’s a hundred years between fifth and sixth grade. Parents will never see that passage of time, never understand how it is, even if they try to remember. It’s worse, somehow, when they try to remember.

They’ll never see it, but it’s there.

This is how it is for the bullies too. I understand that now. I didn’t so much understand it then. Then, I understood the fear. It was a friend of mine. We spent all our time together, it knew everything about me and I knew everything about it. We were inseparable, it and I. Yes, I’d say there’s a lot of truth in that.

In sixth grade, I knew fear very well.

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bully reviews
***** I hesitate to give five stars, my thinking being that I ought to reserve it for the very best books I've ever read. For those books where not one sentence ought to be added or subtracted. For the books that make me think about my own life long after I've reached "the end" and closed the cover. This book was a no brainer. If there were more stars, I would have given them too. Although the story in this novel would be an important one at any time, it seems particularly relevant now. Not only because bullying seems to be at an all time high, but also because of our reaction to it. This story focuses not just on the victim of a brutal attack, but also on the circumstances that helped to drive the perpetrator to commit such a violent act. The story is shocking and disturbing, but it isn't lurid. None of the acts are glorified, nobody is a hero in this book. Everyone is very real, even when it probably would have been easier to write the character in a softer light. I'm especially thinking of both the guidance counselor and the victim's mother here. It's disturbing and harsh at times, sad throughout, but it's also redemptive and hopeful, at least for the victim. This novel is not safe for children, but it is definitely appropriate for adults and even older teens. It ought to be included in a high school curriculum alongside A Separate Peace and To Kill a Mockingbird. It is, without exaggeration, truly that good.
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