This story takes place in 5th grade wich was about 2005 or 2006, roughly making me 9 or 10. I’ve already established that I have high functioning autism, so you can assume that I was not the most social or easy to talk to kid, and you’d be right. Now, for the most part in elementary school, I wasn’t bullied and no one really picked on me. If they did, I must have forgotten it to make way for random Japanese wrestling facts (I made a good decision). The point was was that I was the weird kid who usually sat in the front or in my own little island in the back. No one said shit to me, I said nothing to them.
However, there was this one kid who was a real asshole to a lot of the school (not mentioning names, so let’s call him Phill). Phill would talk shit to teachers and pick on kids younger than him. He was your average white boy punk who spent most of his time trying to be 2004 Eminem.
Now, as established, I remained isolationist for the entirety of my elementary and middle school years. I didn’t talk to people, they didn’t talk to me, and I was cool with that. But then Phill decided to take it upon himself to attack my family directly. First, he drew all over a collage I made for a school project. Nothing that bad, I turned the other cheek. Then, he spread rumors about how he saw my mother naked taking a bath. Again, turning the other cheek.
However, Phill decided to go uber douche and push down my little sister who not only had asthma, but at the time, mono. Now, regardless of how I may feel about my sisters now as people, I had to do something. I couldn’t let this asshole do this shit anymore.
So I decided to challenge him to a fight after school (a “duel”, as I put it). It came with some people gathering to watch it, but as it turns out, he had to catch a bus to go home, so I called myself the victor and went home as well.
The next morning, I’m in the cafeteria with my brother Jarett eating breakfast and having a grand old time. I was having those awesome graham crakers with PB&J filled between them with milk. Best part of school, right there. All of a sudden, the plate I had was flipped over and standing over me was Phill. Not only had he done all of this stuff to me, he had now ruined the best part of school for me.
Now, let’s pause for a second. I am not a fighter. I, at the time, was a peaceful Christian little boy, who wouldn’t harm a fly. Well, I would, but I wouldn’t get into fights. I was the ultimate teacher’s pet. I was an intellectual (as much as a 5th grader could be) and would never think of fighting. Even now, I’m still not a fighter and don’t like heated confrontation.
But for what seemed like 5 minutes, I blacked out. I remember almost nothing from what happened next. All I remember is that I threw the first punch and then after a while, people were pulling me off of Phill as people tried to cover him and protect him from my rage. I remember looking into another girl’s eyes as she stood between us, almost crying and telling me to stop.
The security guards took me to the office as I was in freaking tears, it was a waterfall. Like I said, I was a peaceful Christian boy. I never did anything wrong. I thought I was gonna get kicked out of school and my parents would kill me. The Vice Principal at the time came over and asked me to write down what happened, and I did, crying. I remember I wrote for the last 5 sentences that I was sorry over and over. The Vice Principal looked at it after I was done, asked me if I was telling the truth, to which I responded “Yeah”. Then she said I was free to go.
Yeah. They let me off with not even a wrist slap. I got back to my classroom in time for 2nd period and my 5th grade teacher pulled me aside and told me I wasn’t wrong in doing what I did. Apparently, the faculty HATED this kid and were praising me for standing up to him.
Phill wouldn’t pick on anyone after that. He would be a fuck boi in 8th grade, but never spoke ill to me or my family again.
My bro could fill in some missing details, but that’s my side of the only fight I have ever been in.