One day towards the second half of the semester I was walking down the hallway and I saw this one guy getting pushed around by a group of guys. This was not the first time it happened. I would always see these same groups of shadowy guys bully the bright new student. I was not the only one that ignored the situation judging by the look on my friend’s faces. Everyone always looked like if they were going to die every time that group of guys would walk by. I’m guessing that everyone or at least almost everyone didn’t want to be a part of the situation. I always wanted to stand up against that group of guys, but at the same time I didn’t. That one guy that was always bullied by that group of guys was shy or at least looked shy.
First of all I wanted to meet that one guy that always got bullied, but then I had second thoughts thinking that the bullies might start bullying me also. I strongly believed that the gloomy innocent guy was a brilliant great person. If he was a great person and was my friend I would smack the guys that bullied him. However, if trouble came with the biting consequences, then I wouldn’t feel terrible about myself. “Those bullies deserved it anyways.” I’ll probably feel proud of myself. I would have good reason of hitting the misty bullies. Too bad I don’t have the guts to do in reality.
One reason why I didn’t have the guts to stand up for the grimy guy was that I had a lot of bulky problems to deal with myself. I always asked myself questions that week. “ Why?” “Why can’t I stand up for him? Just this one time!” I had a lot of homework that month, but also had a lot of problems at home such as fights with parents and bad grades. The guy and I probably had similar problems, but the only differences were that I wasn’t getting bullied and I was just an average freshman that was mostly neutral and didn’t get into fights.
At last, I walked in the hallway without any screaming and I also didn’t see that one guy that always got bullied. All I heard was lockers closing and people walking like if everyone had things better to do. Somehow I got worried because I was having thoughts that he committed suicide. I was thinking of these reasons because in most movies I’ve watched victims end up committing suicide.
Finally, I found out that he moved schools. That made me feel happy, but at the same time I was sad because I never got the chance to meet him. I didn’t even have the chance to ask what his name was. I regret not stepping up to ask him all my questions. I really hate myself for not getting to know that innocent guy. I’m pretty sure we would’ve been great friends.