55 Flash Fiction - Tim & Sal #12

"The poor economic conditions are estimated for most of next year," Tim said.

"Fear lingers until people realize that fear is the problem," stated Sal.

"Could it be more than just that?"

"Yes, it could be the result of greed. It might be that the enslaved are being harvested of all they have worked for."

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I'm Voting Republican...

NOT!!!


Brought to you by fine thoughtful folks. :)

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Lesson Learned

When I was in high school, due to my ignorance of the world, I attempted suicide. I felt that my life was ruined and that there was no hope that I would ever be looked at as desirable again. I did it by walking to the railing of the second story I was on, bending over the rail, and lifting my feet to drop myself on my head on the concrete below. I closed my eyes as I did this and unknowingly there was the protrusion of a rain spout of the walkway I had been on, just below where I had dropped from. The spout caught my clothes, and it saved my life by turning me enough that I didn't land head first as I had erroneously planned.

I came to, only to see my arm bending in a very unnatural position, having two elbows. I was horrified in my stupor, and grabbed my wrist with my other hand and repositioned the arm to a semblance of straight. I passed out.

I ended up in the hospital, waiting 5 days to get into an operating room, locked away in the mental ward. After getting two plates with two screws each and an 11 inch stainless steel pin inserted through my elbow through the length of the bone, I spent some 6 months in casts. They itched like crazy and I still remember when the final cast was removed, I had pencil marks all over my arm from getting anything I could get my hands on that I could relieve the itch with. This isn't the particular lesson we're interested in, among many I was to learn.

The lesson learned I am telling you of was not my own. It was of a bully clan that chose to harass me.

When I returned to school after the following summer, having had the cast removed during the summer, I rode the school bus to school. I had a few friends I made at the bus stop, as some people really are nice. There was also a stop on the same route where these bullies got on and off, on the same route. They took to calling me Superman, because in their ignorant view, I had jumped off trying to fly. Morons. They would sit in the back calling me Superman, and yelling their taunts constantly through the months. I tired of it. I knew I would have to quit ignoring them, stand my ground, and confront them.

So one day sitting on the bus waiting for the bus to load after school, they began their taunts again. I hadn't really acknowledged their presence previously and didn't really know who they were, since they were typical bullies always mouthing off to someone's back without the testicular fortitude to say such things to one's face.
I stood up, turned back and told them to shut up. One of them actually had enough nerve to say more. He was bigger than me, and unbeknown to me was actually a year behind myself. I don't remember how, but we somehow arranged that we would have it out the following morning by the pond, where it was shielded from view by trees, after getting to school.

I went home and practiced my fighting technique, working on speed, and doing push-ups to build my power. We got off the bus the next morning, and walked to the pond. He didn't want to fight. When he revealed this, I revealed I didn't either. We went to class, and I thought no more of it.

Sitting on the bus that afternoon after school, his older brother who was my size, got on, sat down, got up and pulled out a large knife, unfolding it he said nothing, but proceeded to stick the knife in the seat beside me and cut the seat up. He was under the impression I was still going to fight with his brother. Uninformed moron. I went home and prepared. I got a roll of quarters and practiced punching with it. It added a lot to the resultant impact. In doing so, I split the paper wrapper slightly, so it became necessary to tape it back together. That added to its strength. I went to the bus stop in the morning and was telling my friends about what had happened, and what I had planned, quarters in pocket.

So when the day of school was over, I made certain I was on the bus early and picked a seat near the front, well in front of where these morons sat, near the aisle. I waited.

Students filtered in, then I saw him. He got on and was moving to the back when I stepped up in front of him. With rolled quarters in hand, I aimed at his face. The additional mass caused my aim to be wide. I missed. I drew back as fast as I could and compensated. Smack right in the face. I proceeded to pummel him, then I saw a flash from my right. The brother that didn't want to fight had come up from behind me and hit me from behind. One of my friends tackled him from the side and took him out of play, pinning him down. I had a broken nose. Continuing my lesson to this would be killer, I took him down, pinning his head in the crook of my elbow against my torso. I pummeled, then hesitated. Yelling in his face, "You DON'T EVER pull a knife on me!" With that I resumed the beating, cutting his face up with my pounding. Mr. Pent, the Vice Principal was on the bus by now, since he was monitoring the bus loading that day. He stopped me and pulled us from the bus. Pulling me aside he asked me what I had used on the other guy, and I pulled my hand from my pocket with the roll of quarters. He looked down at it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $10 bill, gave it to me and took the roll. He asked me why, I told him of the day before, the knife and the seat I had been in. He then asked me why didn't I say something, they had been trying to figure out who had cut the seat up all day.

The Sherrif's office was called, but neither of us would press charges, since if the other guy did the consequences would be both would. Mr. Pent never said anything about the roll of quarters. The guy's father was called in, and was upset that he had to leave work to attend to this. My brother was called because he was the only family that would own up to me. The two of us got 3 days suspension, which my brother somehow got reduced to one for me, the next day. I never had a knife pulled on me again, the taunting stopped, I got my $10 back, two black eyes from the broken nose, and they kept a wide berth from then on. He got to pay $400 reparations for the seat, beat, bruised, cut, humiliated by his victim and 3 days suspension.

Lesson Learned.

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