by Brandon Michael Davis

Created on: January 06, 2009   Last Updated: May 26, 2010

Most people seem to like me, others tolerate me, but everywhere I've been and ever since I can remember I've experienced some level of bullying.

When I was not yet five I caught the neighborhood bullies beating up my older brother. I lived in low-income housing, thus the peerage. I leapt from my training-wheeled bicycle and into action. Perhaps it was a tricycle. Regardless, my brother was on the ground, bully atop him, choking him.

I don't know where I learned to fight like I did that day, but it was spectacular. I dug my fingers deep into the bully's neck, not surrounding it: piercing it. He winced as the pressure points were struck, and I threw him off my brother. His compatriot ran. I don't think we ever were caught, and my chest swells at such reminiscence of victory.

Why the fight? I don't know. I don't understand such things. My brother may have provoked it - unlikely. Or the riffraff of our neighborhood could've incited his attack - a dubious assertion, at best. What, then, caused the violence? Video games? Television? These weren't the culprits of my childhood as they are today. I suppose I have no answer, other than that they were bullies and we weren't. Consecutive bullyings, however, have revealed a deeper truth.

I began my education in Christian school, and after completing the second grade I home schooled for one year. Thereafter began my public school education.

During fifth grade I had another incident, a second fight. I once blamed my oddity for the bullying I received in grade school. And odd I was. With a friend I had read the book, Raptor Red, and we decided to be raptors roaming the playground. Star Wars was also again in vogue, therefore we were not merely raptors, but Jedi raptors, no less.

If this weren't bad enough my mother had decided that my hair would be buzzed save for the bangs. My friend had a bowl cut, though I think his appearance mattered less when standing near me.

To complicate things, we were both yet consumed with obsession for Pokemon.

As a Jedi raptor with Pokemon dog tags and horrid appearance, I cannot but blame myself. Regardless, one day, while patrolling the perimeter of our school lot, we were attacked by three bullies. They toppled one of my other friends to the ground, for whom I've proffered no description because of his mundaneness. He spun in circles, kicking frantically. My friend with the bowl cut, fellow Jedi, began throwing grass. I stood back and tried to use the Force.

The Force

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