Quote from: Edge on October 19, 2014, 09:27:16 AM
Columbine happened when I was in grade five I think. A few years later, I developed an obsession with school shootings because I was headed the same way. I've calmed down a bit since.
Actually, I was headed down the same road in 8th grade. There was a group of guys that had made my life hell for 4 years straight. It all started when I got into a "fight" with this one brat. He and his sister wanted to kick me out of my seat on the school bus (even though there were only 5 people on the bus. The bus driver wasn't there at the time).
The dude told me that he or his sister didn't want to sit next to a "->-bleeped-<-got". (I was labeled as "gay" from the moment I entered the school that I just transferred to. It was because I moved like a girl and used female speech patterns. I knew what being gay was and I knew that wasn't me.) Anyway...I told the dude to F--k off and he took a swing at me. I ducked back and popped him in the eye. Right at that moment, the bus driver had showed up. Meanwhile, this friggin blowfish is crying like a baby. The bus driver started to scream in my face. I told him off too and said I had every right to defend myself. I got wrote up but that was all.
From that day on, this little wimp gathered up his friends and they would gang up on me at school and around the neighborhood. The smallest fight I ever encountered was 3 on 1. But I was the wuss....yeah....sure. This went on for 4 years. It really sucked.
So, in 8th grade, I began to reach my breaking point with these punks. It didn't matter if I said anything to the deans at the school since they didn't care and they hated me anyway since I was always in fights (with these idiots

) I remember finally saying "screw this" and I started to think of a way that I could just take them out. But no one owned anything that I could use other than a butcher knife and a shotgun. But then, once I had a cooler head, I was like, "No. I can't do this. It's going to screw up my life if I try something like this."
But I was just so damn angry since this all stemmed from one little punk coward and his inability to back up his big mouth. I wasn't a fighter, either. I never wanted to fight anyone. I just wanted to be left the hell alone so I could get through this crap that was the public school system.
But I got a tiny bit of satisfaction in 9th grade. All of this loser's friends had moved away. I was walking down the hallway where the upstairs shop classes were (wood shop,etc) and as I was approaching the end of the hallway, here comes this little punk. This was the first time since the encounter in 4th grade where he and I were alone together. I will never forget the look of fear in his eyes. I loved it. Then I could see what a coward he really was.
The only reason I didn't beat the living hell out of him was due to the fact that I was already in trouble with failing grades, skipping classes, etc. But just to see that fear in his eyes was soooo good. It just proved that he was the coward all along.