I’m not sure I quite remember when and how it started. He was just another boy in my class. But it seemed that everything he did just grated on me. No, I don’t want to listen to your music. Hell, that’s a stupid haircut. Put your hand down and shutup for god’s sake. I’m gonna say something to him.
image by Jeff Weston
That felt sooo good. Someone had to tell him and I’m glad it was me. He just stood there gobsmacked as I walked away. He thinks he’s so smart, but I showed him. My friends thought it was hilarious when I told them. “You can’t stop now!”, they said. “That bastard deserves it!”. “I’ve got his phone number from that time he sent me a text about his stupid homework assignment.”
It was only three little words. They weren’t even particularly well-chosen. Everyone was coming up with ideas for the next message. And the next. And the next. All sent from different phones. It was sweet. We could clearly see his face squirm everytime his phone beeped.
“What can we do next?”
“Let’s call him from the payphone.”
“We can take his picture. Make a Facebook for him.”
“Why don’t we do an I.M.-bombardment?”
“Does anyone know his MSN password?”
“Yeah, it’s ‘creedfan’.“
“What the?? He’s going down!”
I remember he didn’t come to school again for a few days. It was so peaceful. But then “Little Miss Try-Hard” decided to get in my way. I love my phone. I love I.M. I love my friends.
- Of course, there are two-sides to every story. The U.K. Department of Children, Schools and Families tells the other side in this excellent video:
Cyberbullying: Laugh at it and you’re part of it. Let’s all fight it together.
