Dear bully,
Today you slapped me.
Because I didn't stop walking when you called me.
You said a slave must obey it's master.
Because you're so big and I'm so small.
I kinda forgot you were so tall.
You shouted at me to look at you and I did because I was afraid of what you would do to me.
You looked me in the eye.
Mine was filled with fear.
For I was afraid.
Really afraid.
I never quite understood how a boy of my own age could frightened me so.
Your eyes were filled with disgust and hate.
Why do you look at me that way ?
I never did anything wrong to you.
You told me then that I'm nothing.
Nothing.
I'm not worthy of life.
I'm a poor, fat, whore.
Just like my mother.
You told I'll end up working in the your father's club one day like my mother do.
That I'll seduce married men into my bed like my mother did.
That I wreck marriages like my mother wreck your parents.
And as you dropped me on the floor.
On my bum.
Now sore.
I watch you walk away.
Anger in your quick strides.
Everything about you shouted pain and anger.
And now I knew why.
But that doesn't give you the right to be angry at me.
I'm just as innocent in this as you are.
I still hate you bully.
Nothing will ever change that.
I understand you a little better now.
Yet still I don't understand you at all.
Because I'm the victim.
And you're bully.
The bully bullies the victim.
It doesn't matter why the bully bullies the victim.
Not in the victim's point of view.
The victim will always hate the bully.
That much is true.