Kid Tortured by Bullies in Perth (Warning, Graphic descrip)

[vrikasatma]

I had it all the way from Kindergarten through senior high school year. My parents' responses were, (from Mom) "Just ignore them." Which of course is the LAST thing you should do, because it does leave you open to attack. Nothing pisses off a human more, more viciously and faster than being ignored.

And from Dad, "Oh, they're just teasing you because they love you." He loved me ten ways to Sunday and it just never occurred to him that the possibility of anyone holding his precious daughter in scorn existed. He also had a bad habit of talking down to his kids and making light of our problems.

So what did I do? Well, this was one instance where my independent spirit got me in even bigger trouble. I took matters into my own hands and dealt with it, on my terms. What could I do? The adults didn't get it, I couldn't depend on them, and my button in that case is to "do it myself."

It probably would have worked if one of the kids's dad wasn't a big-gun lawyer, who got together with the other parents of the other bullies and threatened to sue the school and my parents. Can you imagine? I had to write out and sign a "contract" virtually at swordpoint swearing that I wouldn't touch another kid on pain of expulsion and permanent record.

I put "contract" in quotes because usually, a contract gives you equal value in recompense in return for a pledge. If the adults had promised to do something about the kids bullying me, or failing everything else intervene if they saw me getting a hard time and yelling for help, sure, no problem. But they didn't, they just treated me like a miscreant.

In hindsight, I should have said "To hell with the 'contract' and screw the lawyers" and defended myself anyway. Because not two weeks later, a pack of giggling bullies chased me towards and ambush and tripped me, and I broke my ankle.

The good news was that me showing up the next day in a cast and crutches put the fear of God in them and all but the ringleader left me alone. I'd love to say that that was the end of the hazing but as soon as the cast came off, it was back into it. And I'd really love to say that after that incident, the adults tore up the "contract" but they didn't.

In a smallish community, back then, kids usually go all the way through school as a group, so old habits died hard. New kids would come in and they were quickly indoctrinated into the group zeitgeist that "These are the cool kids, these are the kids we scapegoat, play along or suffer their fate." Small communities do stratify themselves into castes and hey, once a target always a target. And since the lawyer's kid stayed in the clique, he was always there and I couldn't say boo to him. So I got it for thirteen years. Thank the Gods kids back then aren't as psycho or vicious as kids today are, and it stayed at the level of insults and little-s*** pranks. Not horror-movie s*** like this.

When Columbine went down, I cried my eyes out. But what really chapped my a** was when the jocks who'd driven those boys to homicidal/suicidal insanity not only escaped with their lives, they went on to vindicate themselves with the league championship that year, and everyone showered them with lauds and tribute. What lesson did they learn? That you can make someone's life Hell on earth and they'll call you a hero. I have to sympathize most, though, with their wives and children. How many times has Daddy ripped their souls apart? How many bruises has he put on them? Wonder if anyone's thought to call CPS on those men?

Wonder whether their children have "bullycide" written down in their karmic ledgers?

[Dreamer]

Christ! Thath's horrible vrikasatma! You need to sue those bastards, as well as the school district for allowing this to happen! Does anybody else have any horrible stories like that?!

Also, your story gives me an idea for a movie. It's about the Columbine kids and asks the question: Who was the real monster? The two boys whom snapped or the jocks who drove them to murder?

[ravaged_warrior]

Does anybody else have any horrible stories like that?!

Nothing with leg-breaking, but... (hopefully you didn't mean this rhetorically)

Okay, I used to get bullied all the time before going to a different set of schools, but the one that pisses me off the most is when I was in fifth grade. A larger portion of the class would pick on me, the most coming from a kid named Cory who had obviously been held back a few times. He never got in trouble, though, because he was the son of one of the teachers at the school (actually, I think he got in trouble maybe once when I told his dad directly rather than the dumbshit I had for a teacher... not sure how how anyone could be so stupid to think that someone could be innocent by association, but that's how she thought). Anyway, I have two stories from these set of people that bother me more than anything else I've dealt with, mainly because the teacher, Francine Jackson, was an incompetent jackass who all but joined in.

First story takes place pretty much right after President Bush had been elected for the first time. Even at that age I disliked him, and was saying so, eventually coming to "he's probably going to do something stupid like try to blow up China" (a bit immature, but I wasn't that far off). Someone heard this as me saying "I'm going to blow up China" ( ) and everyone there, being the assholes they were, decided to agree with that to screw me over and try to get me in trouble with the teacher, who was gullible as all hell when it came to getting me in trouble. Either that or she didn't like me. Probably both. Anyway, I didn't get in trouble for it, but I was harrassed about it on a daily basis, even two years later when I saw the kids again (I went to a different school the next year to avoid these people), as they started it up again! I couldn't believe that they were so immature to restart some harrassment from two years before. I didn't put up with that s*** again and reported them.

The second one is the one that caused me to actually go to a different school in sixth grade, because it came to my mom's attention that not only were the kids in my class a bunch of little assholes, but the staff were a bunch of incompetent morons. Two kids in my class decided that it would be funny to tell my teacher that I had called her a motherfucking b****. Now, I wouldn't exactly say that this is wrong, but it didn't happen. Unfortunately, my teacher was, as said before, incredibly gullible and incompetent, so she believed it, no matter how many times I told that I didn't. Eventually, I met with the vice principle, who told me that the two kids were "reliable", but refused to say who they were. Now, what made this a bunch of crap was that it caused me to be unable to go on the field trip to a baseball stadium to meet the minor league team. Eventually, the two kids told me themselves who they were. This one girl... and Cory. Both of whom, at the time I supposedly said this about the teacher, were ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE ROOM. That the teacher happened to be sitting in, too. Meaning that if they heard it, she would have heard it, too. You don't get much more reliable than that. That is how stupid both my teacher and the vice principle were.

Worst teacher I've ever had. Horrible woman who sucks at her job but brags about how good she is at it to her students. I don't think I ever learned anything from her.

Luckily, the next year I had a teacher who was probably one of the best I've had. She was awesome.

It's about the Columbine kids and asks the question: Who was the real monster? The two boys whom snapped or the jocks who drove them to murder?

Well, neither were particularly good. One side indirectly caused a bunch of murders, the other side took it upon themselves to kill a bunch of people. You can say that the jocks did wrong, but can't really say that those two did right. Still, the ones who drove the kids to it should have been made to know that it was partially their fault, or else they'd see no reason to stop doing it, unless they were smart enough to see the connection themselves.

[Dreamer]

Well, I was bullied in my early elementry school years and I was bullied in Gym class in 6th grade (Which is why I got myself out of Gym). I can't remember at length any specific instances, but I do remember a rumor being spread that I was gay just because I had hugged a friend! I didin't even know what the word meant at the time! And no, I'm not gay.

Thank Jesus I go to a high school that is tollerant of my social awkwardness, and have a few friends. Otherwise, I'd be dog meat.

[vrikasatma]

I don't glorify the Columbine murderers. One of them, it turned out, wanted to do a 9/11 and fly a plane into a building. Yeah, a very ugly line of no return was crossed but the fact that the boys who snapped and went on a murder spree were bad seeds themselves doesn't excuse the jocks who drove them to it. They're not heroes.

A couple years ago we had a sociopath in a local school that had this game of sticking his finger up his victims' bungholes through their underwear. The parents of the victims tried to get him jailed on sexual abuse charges but unfortunately his parents got him a shark lawyer whose defense could be boiled down to "boys will be boys." And it flew. The kid got off.

Me suing the school district...can't do. This all happened 37 years ago, the statute of limitations has long since run out. And sorry to say, no, I wasn't saying "broken leg" rhetorically, I got X-rays that show a little chip of bone floating around in there to prove it. Cast and crutches for three months. Anyway, living well is the best revenge. The ringleader — who'd jumped on my back and bongo'ed on my head while his buddy tripped me so I'd fall harder — died in a motorcycle accident twenty years ago (there's some sweet justice for you). The other good news is another girl who bullied me in school turned out great. She sent me cards and gifts when she heard about my cancer surgery (some more sweet justice).

Here's some more irony. One of my high school nemeses is a chef now. I wonder if he hand-delivers desserts to his customers with a potty-mouthed fatty-bash insult. The other is...get this...a PHARMACIST! A bloody <i>healer</i>, and he was the only one in high school that actually tried to physically attack me! Wonder if he works for WalMart and tells women to go to hell when they try to buy birth control...

Don't know about the lawyer's boy. Last I heard he was caught cruising town looking for car accidents and stealing items out of cars while the owners were off trading insurance and license information.

[ravaged_warrior]

Oh, none of my post was directly towards you, vrikasatma, I knew you broke your leg. What I meant was that I hoped that Dreamer asking for more bully stories was not a rhetorical question, as my post was a bit long. The Columbine thing was also toward Dreamer, as he suggested that the murderers were not completely responsible. I disagreed because I feel that murder, especially with a ridiculous excuse like they used, is probably the most disgusting thing that a person can do. No matter what those asshole jocks did, what those two did was much worse.

A couple years ago we had a sociopath in a local school that had this game of sticking his finger up his victims' bungholes through their underwear. The parents of the victims tried to get him jailed on sexual abuse charges but unfortunately his parents got him a shark lawyer whose defense could be boiled down to "boys will be boys." And it flew. The kid got off.

That's... huh. "Boys will be boys"... Heh. That's funny. I never knew anyone who found it amusing to try to stick their fingers up someone's a**. His parents did him a great disservice to not get him help rather than get him off. Some people, man...

[Dreamer]

Or if the kid was a latent werewolf himself and the torture brought about his first change.

Good idea, mind if I steal it for a story for school?

[vrikasatma]

Good idea, mind if I steal it for a story for school?

Go for it

Post it after you get it back from your teacher, wouldja?

[wolf4life]

wow......



excuse the language but....


f*** bastards


how would they like to go to jail and drop the soap!!!

if you know what i mean

[Dreamer]

Umm... No.

But here's my story. ANd yes it is in a Tales of The crypt format. I just thought that would be a neat extra touch.

Oh, hello kiddies! Have you ever wanted to get vengeance against those howling hounds that harassed and harangued you in high school?! I know our readership, while being mostly composed of the people whom know what a swirlie is and have had firsthand experience with at least one of them, isn't the type for Columbone-style mayhem, madness and murder, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about that of the supernatural type, the one we here at Tales from the Crypt prefer, like summoning a Lovecraftean horror to eat them or sending them to hell. Well, here's a tale of something like that, a boy whom finally gives the pricks what they deserve. It's called:

The Tail of James Theiss

Meet James Theiss. A nice kid, about 15 years old, skinny, scrawny, but a good guy all around. He loved dogs, and he was pretty smart. Unfortunately, his life
was a living hell. Mainy there were the circumstances he was born under. His birth father was nowhere to be found, disappeared before his birth, and it had pretty much marked him throughout his whole life. First there were the rumors, the fact that people had been gossiping about how this bastard child came to be. As the rumors spread, they passed down to the other children in the town, whom taunted James with names like “bastard” and “Son of a w****” and constantly were rejecting him. And as for the explanation of James' mother (her name was Jessica), well, let's just say this gave the townspeople reason to either doubt her ability to tell the truth or her sanity. Because of these things, she was unable to get any but the most meager of jobs to support herself and James, living in a dingy, smelly and nasty little apartment that she could barely afford. But she loved James, and James loved her, helping out wherever he could to support her. And they could at least take solace in the fact that they loved each other.

Henry “Belmont” Savage was a very different kind of boy. The kind of boy that would not just cut open a frog with a pocketknife, but scour the organs out too. This was by no means a product of him being raised in a poor home, as his parents were well off in the middle class. They were oblivious to his cruelty, him putting on an act of being a “sweet little boy” in front of them, for he was very good at faking innocence. At the school, he was the man on top of the social hierarchy, using intimidation and persuasion using his cronies, whom were almost as cruel as him. He was cruel to the other students, but there was one target in particular whom drew his wrath: James Theiss. While the other students merely taunted and shunned James, Richter was downright physically abusive, leaving him battered and bruised, and with more than a few cuts. Oftentimes, James would have to tell his mother that he fell down the stairs or something like that to keep her from worrying. Besides, even if he did tell her, there was nothing she could do. This happened on a daily basis, but every seemed not to notice, they cared too little of a bastard child. Even when a student noticed, they would just stand there and watch, doing nothing.

James did have one solace in this miserable little world of his: the forest. It was a beautiful place, a few blocks from his mother's apartment. It seemed like a virtual wonderland compared to the dingy apartment and the soulless, colorless fortress that was his school. It was filled with trees, and the light seemed to sparkle off the leaves just enough to give it a beautiful glow. Animals could be seen flitting through the trees, and it had the wonderful smell of pine throughout it. It was truly the only place James felt at home, the place where he belonged. And this was one such day, well more of a night really, after a particularly hellish day at school, being given a swirlie (Told ya!) in front of a large group of students. But something felt off though. It was as if his place of peace and tranquility had been tainted by a creeping shadow. As if a snake had come into his Eden. And when he turned around, he realized just why that was.

Right in front of him, Belmont was standing with a gang of six of his chronies, eyes gleaming as if they were going to open a Christmas present, and not beat an innocent boy into a bloody pulp. “Whatchya doin'?” Belmont said with a fakely innocent voice that had a slight sinister undertone to it. “N-n-nothing” James stammered, slowly backing away, wondering what tortures they might inflict on him now. “Well that's too bad, because we've got a little game we'd like you to play,” He said, moving closer with a devilish twinkle in his eye, “It's called Bludgeon.”. “W-w-what's that?” James said, guessing what it probably was but not really wanting to know. “It's where you beat the s*** out of some little bastard like you with these...”. At this, Belmont motioned toward the bushes, in which his cronies picked up several blunt implements from the bushes. A lead pipe, a wrench, a hammer and several other things easily found at the local junkyard, probably placed there the night before. James tried to back away, slowly enough that they wouldn't chase him, as the two cronies passed out the weapons. Finally, he broke out into a run as they finished passing the weapons amongst themselves. But unfortunately, although Belmont was chubby, he was strong, and very fast. He grabbed James by the hair and threw him down to the ground saying “It's not nice to run when you're playing a game you little f***!” He bashed James' back, though not at the spine, with his weapon of choice, the wrench. His friends slowly approached like zombies to a corpse and started beating James senseless. He had been injured by Belmont before, but this was horrific. He was covered in bruises, had several broken bones, and was bleeding badly, the blood gushing out like a faucet. HE was softly weeping to himself, wanting to scream but not wanting to give them that pleasure. But most of all, he was filled with rage. White hot rage. Rage at all the things they did to him through out the years, rage at his life, rage at everything horrible that had happened in his miserable life. Rage, building up to a boil and ready to burst. Rage enough to kill. Kill all those cruel, evil bastards. Kill them all.

Suddenly, a strange thing started happening to James. He started changing. His teeth were elongating into fangs. His nails grew into claws. Hs hands were morphing into paw-like structures. His muscles were expanding to colossal sizes. His wounds and broken bones were healing. Fur was sprouting all over his body. Belmont and his group of cronies were standing there, in awe and in horror of what was occurring. You could hear James' bones crunching as they shifted into place. His ears were elongating into dog-like proportions. When Belmont realized what was happening, he started screaming, as the other boys did when they realized what he was becoming. James was becoming something different, something strange: a werewolf. As he finished transforming, you could see he looked very much like a werewolf you would see in modern-day films, a gigantic humanoid wolf. And every inch of that wolf was filled with rage. Rage at them. Rage at those constant tormenters, those ruthless monsters, those evil boys. They ran, but as they say, no human alive can outrun a werewolf. Belmont was the first to go, the heart ripped out and the body horribly mutilated by the claws. The next two boys were hiding behind a tree in hopes that James would not find them. Unfortunately they hadn't counted on his sense of smell. The next one almost got away. The key word being “almost”. On and on the slaughter went, until they were all dead in a horrific mess that would make Peter Jackson puke. When James calmed down, he looked down at his paws. They were covered in wet, red and sticky blood, clinging to his fur. He was horrified. He had killed them in cold blood, in anger. They may have been cruel, but they were people, and he murdered them. And as this, this THING he had become, had changed into. He wasn't human now. He was truly a monster. So he did the only thing he knew what to do: he ran. He ran through the forest, trying to run away from his deed, his horrific slaughter. He was scared and horrified at himself, but at the same time he felt strangely calm, like he was supposed to be running through the forest. He ran up to a rocky cliff near a patch of trees where the branches were positioned just right to let in the light of the half-moon and let out a howl, both of sadness and self loathing. But what was this? At the same time, he heard another howl from very nearby, one that, reminded him of something. He looked around and saw, right in back of him another werewolf whom looked at him with a strong and bold expression, yet looking at him in a knowing fashion as if he knew something about James. This one was much larger than him, very powerful looking. He looked very similar to James, unusually similar in fact. It was odd though. It was as though he knew him, although he had never met this man in his life. And then, suddenly he knew. He knew whom his father truly was.

The story of the massacare of Belmont and his cronies was a media circus. It was shown on the TV news, with every channel covering it. The mothers of the children spent their time wallowing in grief in front of the cameras, saying things like “Why did this happen,” and “He was such a nice boy” or “What did I do to deserve this?!”. It even got it's own t-shirt. Nobody really noticed the disappearance of James and Jessica Theiss. Sure there was a police investigation, but it wasn't a very high priority and it was barely looked into. Nobody in the town really cared about the life of a crazy woman and her bastard child. If they had checked, they would have noticed the three sets of footprints formed in the dead of night walking towards the forest. The first two were human, one set bigger than the other, but they oddly enough they slowly changed over the trail into wolf-like paws. Yet they still appeared to be made by a bipedal creature. The third trail remained human, and also seemed to be going along with the pother two even when they started to change. It was as if a portrait was being made by those footprints. A portrait preserving a cherished memory. A portrait of a family reunited.


Awww, it's a happy ending and... WHAT?! This is horror, it's not supposed to have a sappy ending! This is Tales from the Crypt, not a Disney Movie! It's supposed to END with an ironic reversal with a touch of black humor, not a happy ending with the ironic reversal in the middle! STICK TO THE FORMULA! Well, anyway, if you'll excuse me, I have to go have a “persuasive chat” with the writer. A VERY painful, I mean persuasive chat. So, 'till next time kiddies. AHAHAHAHAHAHA!

[Dreamer]

Well, by the lack of responses I'm guessing you either hate it or because of the content (seing as it's kind of a story of vengance) that I'm insane (I'm not) and I could to snap at any minute.(Which I would never do).

OR it could be that nobody even read it. Should I move it to the Writing (Werewolf Related) section?

[vrikasatma]

Probably...

I thought it was good. But you're right, if it's in the style of Tales from the Crypt it shouldn't have a happy ending. Maybe a genre-shift? From comics-style to Hero's Journey?

[Dreamer]

But you're right, if it's in the style of Tales from the Crypt it shouldn't have a happy ending.

Well, that is what I was joking about at the end.

[In_Cruce_Salus]

Ah yes, I return after a self imposed exile to find...this. How pleasant.

All of the attackers should be examined by several psychologists for mental disorders. The ringleader should be tried as an adult, regardless of how many disorders he has. The others should be expelled from their school, made to do community service until they turn thirty, and placed into foster care. All involved parents (except for the victim's) should be jailed and investigated on suspicion of child abuse.
The victim should get free treatment, mental and physical, the money taken from the attackers' families.

These little bastards should be happy that they didn't do it to my sister. If they had, I'd hunt them down and act out every single sick and sadistic fantasy that I've ever had, regardless of their age. They'd need to be in a jail cell, if only for the police protection. Lucky little s***.

News like this makes me sick.


Edit: Ignore the threats and crap. I really shouldn't post on topics that piss me off.

[vrikasatma]

Well, I did another Google search and found that the kids are being held pending investigation and court proceedings.

The ringleader is going to have a battery of psychological evaluations thrown at him and then put on trial.

Don't know if the Australian justice system tries juvies as adults when the crime is bad enough.

One thing's for sure: that whole gang ARE NOT back in school. Thank the gods.