I bullied a kid in fifth grade so badly that I still think …

I bullied a kid in fifth grade so badly that I still think about it decades later

There’s something I did as a kid that I’ll probably never forgive myself for. I was in the fifth grade, and there was this quiet boy I’ll call him “Victor.” He never talked to anyone, always kept to himself, and wore long sleeves no matter how hot it got outside. He wasn’t mean, he wasn’t weird, he was just… invisible. And for some reason, that made him an easy target for me and my friend.

At first, it was stupid things. We’d fart near his desk and laugh like idiots. Then we started teasing him, chasing him around during recess, hitting him when the teachers weren’t looking. I still remember one moment that makes me sick .

I hid behind the cafeteria door and punched him in the back as he walked out. He didn’t even fight back. He just flinched and kept walking. And we laughed. I remember feeling this ugly kind of joy. That’s what haunts me most.

It went on for weeks. Every day we’d find new ways to make him miserable. Then one day during a school field trip, something happened that changed everything.

We were at an old fort, and there were these massive iron wrenches lying around the kind that probably weighed fifty pounds. I tried to lift one to show off and couldn’t budge it. Victor walked over, quiet as ever, and lifted it like it was nothing.

I got angry and punched him again. But this time, it hurt me. His body felt like steel. He could’ve crushed me if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He just looked at me, almost sad, and put the wrench down.

After that day, we stopped. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was realizing that he had a kind of strength I didn’t understand. Years later, I started thinking about those long sleeves he always wore even in summer. I wonder now if he was being hurt at home, and I just made his life even worse.

I’ve grown up since then. I’ve built a life, become someone people would probably call “good.” But deep down, I carry that version of myself. The one who laughed while hurting someone who didn’t deserve it. I think I’ll carry it forever. Because I don’t want to forget how easy it is to lose your humanity if you stop seeing people as people.

If somehow you ever read this, Victor I’m sorry. Truly. I hope life was kind to you. You didn’t deserve any of what I did.

Sometimes we think growing up erases what we were, but it doesn’t. It just gives us the chance to do better and to never become that person again.

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