Written on 20 January 2019
Susannah had always been undersized, to the point where she had to take growth hormones for close to a year, which made her face puffy and distorted.
That, mixed with her dark skin, made her an obvious and easy target for bullies.
The worst was Sylvia Grieg. She had come into the school ginormous, and had only got more ginormous as the years went by. Susannah would look back and realise Sylvia was acting out so no one made fun of her size, but her tiny 14-year-old self didn't know that.
All she saw was a big fat bully, hurtling across the playground every lunch break to afflict some fresh horror on her. Susannah tried telling her form tutor, Mrs May, but the old trout did nothing but have a brief word with Sylvia. She, in turn, slashed Susannah’s arm with the business end of a compass. The snitch literally got stitches.
Susannah grew tired of it. Instead of leaving school or calling the police, or trying to fight back, she decided to play the long game. She told her Mum about these after school dance classes at the local leisure centre. Her mum was thrilled, and gave her the money for the classes. But instead of donning the ballet pumps, Susannah fell into the world of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
Every week she’d get a little better, learning how to use an opponent's size against them, twisting joints and punching harder and harder. All the while, Sylvia carried on bullying. Shoving her down in the playground, kicking her in class, locking her in the toilet cubicle. Susannah resisted her urge to fight back until the opportune moment.
After four months, just before they broke up for summer term, she decided she was ready.
Sylvia strode towards her that lunchtime. Susannah pretended she hadn't seen her. Tensed up ready to pounce.
“Hey, Sus, can I talk to you?” Was this a trick? Did she know? She has a black eye. Did Susannah do it already?
“I'm really sorry.” She was crying. Why was she crying? “I've made your life hell. I know that, and I know it's no excuse, but I've been bullied too.” What was happening? She pointed to her eye. “My step dad gave me this. He hits me a lot. I'm so sorry, I should never have taken it out on you.”
What should Susannah do? She thought about the years of torture. Of having to explain bruises away, getting stitches, having to tell her Mum that another bag had been stolen. How she'd used to beg for mercy as Sylvia shoved her head down the toilet. Fuck her. Susannah didn't care what she'd been through.
She landed a flying knee right to the side of her gigantic head. She fell down crying ever harder. Sus had fantasized about synching in a chamora lock and breaking the bitches arm. But staring at her, in a heap on the floor, completely broken, she didn't feel like it would give her the satisfaction she deserved. She crouched down, looking Sylvia straight in her blotchy, sobbing face.
“Don't do it again.”