So, something you should know about me for this story is that I am insanely protective of people I care about. Like hunt you down and hurt you sort of protective. Well, in 7th grade, a guy in my gym class put this to the test.

I had become good friends with a girl in my class that year, and as she was one of my only friends, I cared for her deeply. She really felt like all I had. In the beginning of class everyday, we simply walked in circles around the large gym in groups, with no teacher supervision I might add. And a guy I’d known for a few years (and hated me for just as long) got the bright idea to pick on me. It was only ever little stuff, tripping me in the hall and calling me names. I really didn’t care, and it didn’t effect me.

That all changed when he moved on to my friend. We would be walking a lap around the gym, and he and his buddies would walk up behind us and trip her. Over and over. They called her names and were just general jerks to her. This continued for about a week and a half before I reached my boiling point.

So on the way out of class one day after they had been particularly harsh, I noticed the teacher had stayed behind to clean up. The jerk was standing right in front of me, so I reached out my foot and tripped him, but it wasn’t over. I then stepped nest to him and ‘bumped’ into him as he was falling, so he face planted into the metal door, which he got a bloody nose from. Only a small group of people noticed the actually fall, but they soon alerted everyone else, and soon the whole hall was laughing at him.

I’d like to say that I regret it, or got in trouble, but nope. And he never messed with my friend again.