SAY STOP!

• Amy Thompson, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2016

I was waiting for Emily, my red headed, freckled friend to get to school. Though she got to school and told me she was going to hang out with a new best friend she had made.
After her speech, I felt a big red hot bubble of hatred swelling up inside me like never before. I just wanted to make her way of seeing things the same as mine, I wanted to punch her. And I did. After I punched her, I felt good. I liked to see her afraid of me after she had always been so strong.
There was an irresistible force making me go up to Emily 'Smithereens' and punch her once every day, or more than once because the more the merrier. Right?
I kept it up for what seemed forever until the crumby new girl Joan ‘Wrongworth’ told me otherwise. She told me to stop.
Soon after that, I realised all my wrongdoings that I thought right doings a huge mistake, so I gave an apology and it was accepted.
The Victim
I had to get to the year five classrooms on time because I had to tell my black headed best friend my news. I knew she wouldn’t be happy with me having a new best friend, but whatever.
Once I did tell her, she just yelled at me and gave me a tremendously hard punch in return.
Every day she found me and punched me. I could not find the strength to say stop.
She grew bigger every day because there was no one to stop her.
Until Joan Wrightworth.
Joan is the quiet new girl from England. She spook up and said stop loud and clear. She had been watching my ex-best friend flatten me to nothingness like a bulldozer would to pavement. When she did say stop Clair stopped.
It was like a 1,000 kilo weight was lifted from my chest.
The Stopper
I moved to Australia three weeks ago with an open mind for good things but I just got neglected as a weirdo with big glasses and a funny voice.
What was happening to my friend Emily, who has a locker next to me seemed a lot worse.
It happened to me in England but my teacher just made the bully stay late and fill in a reflection sheet.
I needed to do something and the chance was there, it was the right thing to do and no one else seemed as if they were going to do it.
At the top of my lungs I yelled, “HEY CLAIR . . . WOULD YOU STOP BULLING EMILY!”
And she did. It was like a miracle, no one ever listens to me, I was overwhelmed.