In high school I was a bully. I wasn't the big guy who took your lunch money or gave people swirlies. I was the kid who knew that one thing that I could say or do to make you cry in front of everyone. If you were a prep I knew that if I embarrassed you in front of everyone then you would break down in tears. If you were poor I would point it out and watch as others laughed at you. There was one kid who was overweight and I would slap him in the face everyday in lunch. I would tell him that he was fat enough and didn't need that extra burger. I was a horrible person to everyone except the handicapped children and for them I was a hero. They all loved me. I spent my spare time helping them in their classes and was suspended on three separate occasions for fighting others who were picking on them. I didn't understand why I did this back then but I get it now. I didn't bully those who were weaker than me. I bullied the people who thought that they were better than me. The poor kids thought that they were tougher, the preps thought that they were richer, the geeks thought that they were smarter, and the jocks thought that they were stronger. I had something to prove to them and myself. I wanted to show them all that I saw and exploit their weekness'. I wish that I would have seen this while I was still in school and stop myself from doing it. I didn't accomplish anything through all of the things that I did. It didn't change the fact that it was I who felt that these people were better than me. I needed to prove to myself that they were weaker than me in some way and I found it no matter who the person was. The biggest problem for me was my lack of fear. The jocks that I embarrassed would be mad and come after me but not once did I ever run. I would smile widely and tell them to give me their best shot. They would and I would go home bruised or bleeding. I didn't care back then. I had hurt their pride and image more than they had hurt me physically. I was told by one of my victims recently that he still thinks about the time that I embarrassed him in the lunch room and is filled with a sense of shame. He beat me up that day but it gave him no peace. I had injured his pride and some wounds never heal. I am sorry for this. I was just a bully. In ways I was far worse than those that I attacked because I did it intentionally and with hate in my heart. I hope that one bully will read this and re-think their actions and if that happens I am glad that I have wrote this.