I called the bully the wrong name, and the bully hit me. In the eye. Then it happened. To understand the power of the situation, you need to know a little bit more about me. I'm shy, weak, and scared. A coward really. Skinny. Sensitive. I don't know how to fight, but I want to know. But I don't. That's why what happened is a miracle. It was for me at least.
The bully hit me. I saw things differently after that, literally. My vision changed. Things seemed slower, the voices of the children faded away, and only one voice could be heard: mine.
"I'm going to get you when I get off of the bus."
I had never heard my voice sound like this before. It was calm and clear. The certainty with which I spoke was past tense. It's like my decree happened yesterday. I said those words with something beyond mere confidence. I said it with authority. I don't know where it came from, but something or someone had taken charge of me.
Blurry voices that cheered the upcoming defeat of the coward were barely remembered. The boy walked down the aisle of the bus with single minded focused fierceness....yet a quiet fierceness. A decision. One that had been decreed from eternity past.
The bully stood fully over me; my head was below the bully's chin. Taunting me, the bully towered in anticipated victory and glory. Then it happened. I hit the bully in the neck. A single blow that choked the bully. Children cheered me, and I walked home in the same slow motioned perception I had when I decreed the decision.
Click here for what happens now.
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