When I started sixth grade I had lost two brothers and my mother over the previous 18 months.

Because of this I was very withdrawn, which made me the quiet weird kid. One of the other kids saw me as an easy mark and low-key bullied me.

Things like telling the guidance counselor I was picking and eating my boogers (not true), which landed me mandatory sessions with her. Telling on me anytime I said a curse word. Stealing my school books and pissing on them and leaving them in the urinal.

I was in such a fog I didn't realize what was happening until one day halfway through the year I had woken up a little. We had a sub that day, so everyone was chatting instead of working.

I don't remember what I said, but I remember his reply in front of the whole class: that's why your mom is dead.

I saw red. The rest is a blur but I recall methodically pretending to have trouble packing my bag up at the end of the period and waiting for him to leave the classroom first.

When he got up I followed close behind him. When I got close I would back and punched him as hard as I could in the neck at the base of his skull.

He instantly crumpled to the ground and looked at me with scared, wide eyes. and I just kept walking.

Never had an issue with anybody in school again.