Hey! Welcome to my story!
Dear Laura,
My parents were bringing me back to Canada for around two months. In their words, it was called “reconnecting with my culture” – but I never knew much of Canada at all. I didn’t even know Canada existed as a country until a week ago when I realized my passport was a different color than my Chinese friends. Yeah, I thought to myself, I wasn’t Canadian. My hometown is made up of little red packets and dumplings.
Nevertheless, a week later, I was on the plane bumbling on my way to Vancouver Airport.
Despite being on vacation, I still had to keep up with school. The elementary school I joined was called Chaffey Burke and I fit in well enough. Although I wasn’t particularly fluent in English, I had enough vocabulary to socialize with a small group of friends. Generally, life was good at Chaffey Burke Elementary.
Until one day, someone unexpectedly joined our little community in the middle of Math class.
“Two, three, eyes on me!” Ms. Owen hollered, standing in her favorite flowery cardigan and prominent purple pants, body hunched with age. Most students followed suit. I tried to clap as loud as I could, secretly cursing out Jennie beside me who was clapping offbeat.
Beside Ms. Owen stood a tall, dark-skinned girl with a soft, round complexion. The girl’s knuckles were white, fingers clasping the handle of a dark blue lunchbox. She wore a pink t-shirt that said “gleam, glitter, glow” in cursive letters. “This is Sandy, and she’s going to join our class for a few months.” I stared, much like the other students in the class with brutal judgment excused with innocence. But more than anything I wanted to know where her pink shirt was from.
Ms. Owen cleared her throat – a rumbling gurgle. She then bent down further than her hunch, which I didn’t know was possible, and whispered in Sandy’s ear. “Sandy, why don’t you sit there?” she pointed. “In front of Laura?”
I gawked at the finger aimed directly at my face.
In front of … who?
I looked at Sandy again, just to make sure.
Sandy.
In front of me.
She was at least two heads taller and was twice my build. Sandy towered over me like an apex predator. Despite my horror, she didn’t even acknowledge my presence, clearly unbothered, and took her seat in the first row. It was like the Great Wall of China had placed itself between me and the board. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t catch a glimpse of anything Ms. Owen was writing. All Sandy was doing was sitting, but I wasn’t any less annoyed. I wondered if Ms. Owen noticed an entire row of students were missing from her class.
From then on, I held a grudge against Sandy. It didn’t matter to me that she didn’t choose to sit in front of me herself. All that mattered was her spot severely affected my field of vision, and I had possibly developed scoliosis trying to see through the cracks of her armpits.
This Korean boy named David placed behind me, who had the personality of an Area 51 alien and the appearance of a toothpick was the first to voice his concerns regarding the seating plan. We had never spoken before, but Thursday during lunch we gossiped like we were girlfriends.
“Can’t she move just a little bit?” he asked, ripping into the side of an onigiri wrap. “It’s not like Ms. Owen will notice.”
I nodded. “I know. But I doubt we’d be able to see even then”. Mildly proud of my response, I slid a cracker in between my fingers like a cigar and pretended to take a swig. Jennie giggled. David appeared amused.
Sandy was not.
I caught her staring from the corner of my eye, a slightly bewildered look on her face. I didn’t feel bad at all – in fact, I felt satisfied that she had heard me. After all, Sandy was the one being a nuisance; I was just pointing it out.
David voiced my thoughts. “I hope she noticed what we said.”
“For sure,” Vincent chimed in from the left. “She could use some self-awareness.”
During recess, Ms. Owen liked to make us participate in odd activities she made up. Today was one of the good ones – we were to wear finger lights and dance around in the dim classroom to a song. Ms. Owen rummaged in a black bin under the chalkboard and pulled out a Ziploc bag full of finger lights. She then told us to line up and wait for our turn. “Everyone is getting a light, so it doesn’t matter where you are in the line,” she added.
Yeah right. Ms. Owens is 52. She doesn’t understand. Last week, I counted exactly 4 blue lights in that Ziploc bin, and today I had to get my hands on one of them. I’ll punch Jennie if I must. I’ll punch anyone if I must. Derek, you better put that one down. Damnit Sue! Why couldn’t you just-
“Laura?”
I blinked. I was standing at the front of the line.
“Which one would you like?” Ms. Owen asked, handing the Ziploc bag to me.
My eyes widened as I snapped out of my trance. “I’d like a blue one, please”.
She peered down into the bag and shook it a little. “It seems like we’ve run out of blue. Are you okay with pink?” I tried to hide my disappointment and nodded instead. Ms. Owens slid the pink light onto my pointer finger and patted me on the head.
I smiled back on the outside, but inside I was fuming. Oh, Sandy, Sandy, Sandy. Sandy had a bright blue light sitting at the end of her pinkie finger. She took the light from me. It was her.
She didn’t deserve it – I was here way longer than she was, and anyone smart enough at Chaffey Burke knew blue was my color.
Sandy stood alone at the edge of the room. When she noticed me beelining towards her, her posture straightened. I began to wonder if I should’ve just let this slide.
“Hi Sandy,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “Your finger light is so pretty!”
Sandy looked down at me blankly. “Thanks”
I smiled some more. “I really like it.”
“So?”
“I was wondering,” I looked down, then flicked my eyes upwards for a pout. “If I could have it just for today?”
Sandy shrugged. “Tough luck.”
I felt the hair behind my neck rise, the temperature of my skin fluctuates, and my palms begin to sweat. A terrible feeling began to brew inside my stomach.
I was mad. Really mad.
“Blue doesn’t suit you well,” I started “Look at what you’re wearing”.
Sandy paused. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“I’d just be really embarrassed if I were dressed like you.” I let out a sly grin. “Wherever you got your clothes from, don’t go there again.”
“Yeah. You’re honestly kind of ugly.”
Wait.
Whipping around, I saw Jennie standing behind me with a raised eyebrow. I’ve never seen so much attitude in her before, but I felt more empowered by her presence. Someone had backed up my words. Someone appreciates and validates what I’ve said. Jennie offered me a reassuring smile and I gave her a nod of approval.
Sandy, at this point, had tears welling up in her eyes. With gritted teeth and flaring nostrils, she slipped the blue light off her finger. “I get it. Just take the ring,” Sandy muttered.
I laughed. “It barely fits you anyways.”
“Oohs” and “Aahs” rippled across the room. Apparently, Jennie wasn’t the only spectator. Sandy’s face was flushed, and she avoided my eyes. Then she simply asked Ms. Owen to use the washroom. Feeling satisfied, I put my new blue ring on and admired how it glowed in the dark.
The next few weeks were a dream. I was so popular, that even kids in grade 5 began to recognize me. My circle of friends almost tripled. My cool reputation was well respected. And of course, I could never bring myself to lose that. I jumped on every opportunity to embarrass Sandy, and life was outstanding. I mean, it was what I was known for! Making fun of Sandy was a class-wide activity, and no one wanted to be left out of the fun.
One Thursday morning, I was walking down the hallway with a pink attendance slip in my hands. I had never been sent on a mission like this before, and it felt great being the chosen one with such spectacular treasure. I was completely zoned out, counting the pale green tiles on the floor when I heard soft chatter. I froze. It was behind the wall closest to me and was the last turn I had to take before I reached the office.
Curious, I rose to the tips of my toes, inconspicuously made my way to the edge of the wall, and peered around the corner. I almost gasped out loud. It was Sandy, in the arms of an older woman I could only assume was her mother.
Sandy was sobbing hysterically. What I presumed was small talk was her wailing, muffled by the dull brown sweater her mother was wearing.
What a baby, I thought and grinned to myself. How dramatic can she be?
But before I could further indulge in my thoughts, Sandy’s voice rang in my ear.
“Why me? What did I ever do to them?”
I was stunned.
Her mom muttered something to her in a different language with an awfully soothing tone. Sandy just cried harder. Something rustled faintly.
“When can we leave?” Sandy whispered through tears.
Her mom sighed. “I’m not sure.”
“Please, I want to go. The people are so cruel here.”
“This is the only place we can afford, Sandy. Be thankful.”
Sandy wailed something back that I didn’t understand, but I didn’t need to hear the words to know what she was talking about. Holy crap, I thought I was about to start crying.
I wasn’t sure why I hated her so much, really. Now that I was trying to come up with a reason, I really couldn’t. All the thoughts I justified my actions with were gone. I couldn’t excuse anything.
Sandy was bullied.
I am a bully.
I liked being a bully.
Ms. Owen had lectured for years about bullying, yet an imposter was sitting right in her class.
My feet were stuck firmly to the floor, and the saliva in my mouth began to dry. What did I do? I made her cry! That’s what I did. Who knows how many times I’ve made her cry. Will I be sent to a nature camp? I am not going to find out. Should I pack my bags tonight?
“Hello?”
The office lady with a silver nametag that read “Anna” was staring me down. “Are you looking for someone?”
I began to breathe again. My eyes darted around for Sandy and her mom, but it was dead silent.
Where did they go?
“Uh, I’m here to drop off the attendance,” I said.
“Oh, great! Thanks for bringing it down. Which class are you in?”
“Uhm, Ms. Owen’s class.”
“I see,” she smiled, “I’ll just grab that from you now.” Her nails were painted a neon shade of orange, and she snatched that attendance sheet from me like I had some sort of disease.
I DID have a disease. It’s called the heinous b*tch disease, that’s what.
And I was going to find a cure.
The next morning, I walked in as if everything was normal. But I was determined not to utter a single insult to Sandy today, and I was going to carry through with my promise. So, when lunchtime came around, I paid close attention to what words were coming out of my mouth.
Usually, I initiated the interactions between the students and Sandy. The fire that lights a comedically long string for a cannon. But I stayed true to my word today, and no matter how many good jokes I thought of to make fun of whatever Sandy was eating, I kept my mouth shut. I thought that would keep the canon from exploding.
What I didn’t expect was someone else lighting the fire.
“So…Laura,” David started, grinning at me from ear to ear “let’s hear it.” Normally I would’ve jumped at this opportunity to boost my social credit. However, this time I acted like I had no idea what he was talking about.
“What?” I replied. Like I was stupid.
David raised an eyebrow. Jennie giggled and pointed at Sandy in front of me, who was hunched over like she was trying to melt into her seat.
I made no effort to respond and simply shrugged. “I don’t see what’s wrong.”
“Don’t you think her food is so weird? What even is that?” Jade whispered into my ear not-so-quietly.
I remained silent.
Even Vincent was getting restless. Sam’s eyes flickered between me and Sandy. Thomas was tapping his feet rapidly. Merle tried to push me a little further. “Her food really is weird,” she said and then turned to look me dead in the eyes.
“Right, Laura?”
Almost everyone in the classroom stared.
My lungs crumpled a little.
I couldn’t get any words out. Little Miss Smart Mouth had no smart to mouth. What could I even say? Read out the corny slogan on the NO BULLYING poster? “Sandy Is my long lost distant relative,” or “Jesus came to me last night and told me Sandy was the prophet” didn’t seem convincing enough. But I had to say something. Anything. I knew what the crowd was expecting, and I knew I had to deliver. I just wasn’t going to deliver what the crowd was expecting.
“It looks alright,” I stated firmly.
Jennie was looking at me like I slaughtered her family.
“No way…” Jade said. She looked appalled too. “No way…” she then turned to face Thomas beside her, who was so red I thought he might combust.
David shook his head disappointedly. “I thought you were cool.”
Emotions swelled. I set my jaw and gripped my chopsticks as hard as I could. “I just don’t think it’s that bad.”
David laughed, “Yeah, ’cause you’re just like her. Look at what you’re eating.”
Jennie tried to hide her smile as she peered past my arm into my lunchbox. “Don’t tell me you’re standing up for Sandy,” Thomas leaned forward, taunting me. “You started this. You’re just as bad as the rest of us.”
Bloody hell.
It was safe to say that my glorious reign over Chaffey Burke has met an end. Over the next few days, everyone knew me as a hypocrite. A tyrant. I’ll be honest, I never really sided with Sandy either. Although someone else took over the throne as Chaffey king or Burke bully, I never completely melted into the shadows. Talk about Sandy dwindled, and students began to simply give her the silent treatment. I don’t think she minded that.
But I wasn’t going to settle for no war. I was going to get Sandy to sign my peace treaty.
Lying in the twin-sized bed of my mom’s 30-year-old apartment, I decided I was going to apologize. We were practically in the same boat anyway.
The next morning, I chased Sandy around like I was trying to hunt her down. Finally, I caught her standing in front of a bathroom stall, waiting to do her business. Not the most professional place I was hoping to catch her, but it’ll have to do.
“Hey Sandy, I’m sorry for the last couple of weeks.”
Sandy did a double take and her jaw fell to the floor. Her eyeballs were going to pop out of their sockets. I don’t blame her, I’ve been stalking her since 9:00am today, trying to get her attention. It didn’t help that I terrorized her for so long that I had her looking over her shoulders, practically scaling walls to avoid me.
“I’m sorry. I was being a bully.” I continued, looking down at my feet. I knew she would accept my apology. Everyone accepted apologies, and that was just the way things worked. I knew for sure Sandy would because I knew she was desperate for a friend. A moment of silence passed, and I was surprised she hadn’t jumped on the opportunity yet.
“I don’t accept your apology.”
I felt like I just swallowed a fist.
She said what?
The look on my face must’ve said enough because I swear, I saw a smile tugging at her lips. Normally I would’ve let my temper take over, but right now I can’t. I can’t let Sandy discover a single sliver of insincerity stuck between my teeth.
“Okay,” I muttered. I sounded like a deflated balloon.
My limbs were fused together like I was a single stick of bone, and my eyes stared straight ahead. The walk I tried to walk must’ve looked like a penguin trying to run.
She refused my apology. The nerve!
I was painstakingly angry for a few days, but then I was going to head back to China anyway. Those were the longest days of my life. Although Sandy’s response was upsetting, the feeling was drowned out by the backlash coming from the rest of my classmates. More than ever, I regretted what I had done to Sandy. Nobody deserved treatment like this, and I could indefinitely understand why she had refused to accept my half-assed apology.
There’s no good ending. I left and went back to China and never met another Sandy again. There isn’t a life-changing revelation or some sort of villain-origin backstory.
Truth is, peer pressure gets us all, and we’re all bound to be a heinous b*tch sometimes.
– Sincerely, Burke Bully
Thank you so much for reading!
