When I was around 12, I got rather depressed. One of the ways this showed was that at school I would walk into the classroom, sit down, cross my arms on my desk, rest my head on it with my eyes closed, and get up again when the bell rang for the next class.

Obviously, the teachers weren’t fans of this, but I was able to focus pretty well this way, got good grades, and wasn’t disruptive so most just ignored it. Some classmates found it extra fun to mess with me, though, stealing pens and doodling in my notebooks.

One time, the guy sitting next to me kept poking me with a pen. A few times, I cracked an eye and hissed, “Quit it!” at him.

After the fifth time I cracked an eye, I saw the teacher with her back to the class, grabbed my hardcover textbook from under my arms, and gave the guy a solid WHACK! on the head. In a flash, I was back in my regular position.

The hush told me that some classmates had seen it, but the teacher either missed it or accepted it.

One bully down, a few warned through the grapevine, and several more to go.

(I’m at a summer camp doing an activity where we have to be blindfolded.)

Girl: “This is so weird because, like, I can’t see anything because of the blindfold. This might sound weird but I have this thing where I can, like, see color and…”

Everyone: “Oh, you mean synesthesia?”

Girl: “What?”

Everyone: “Yeah, you know synesthesia, where you can smell or hear color and stuff.”

Girl: “Wait, is that a thing?!”

Everyone: “Yeah, of course! Did you really not know that?!”

(One of my classmates, [Student #1], is always loud and disruptive or just doesn’t listen. As a result, one of my teachers dislikes him and ends up yelling at him a lot. One day our class is getting a little loud.)

Teacher: “[Student #1], shut up!”

Us: “[Student #1] isn’t here today.”

(I am working in customer service for a store that customers can order merchandise from. Everything is going well, and then I notice two women walk in. They are greeted by someone else and then I take another look. The younger one I recognize as being a bully in my elementary school! She bullied me a lot when I was going through a tough time. I couldn’t do much because she was two times my size in height and weight. We also played in a soccer league together, but we didn’t really interact much for some reason. I think it was because I avoided her. Anyway, I try to go hide in the back, but my boss gives me a look, so I end up taking their order.)

Old Bully: “Say… I know you from somewhere. You look familiar.”

Me: *playing dumb* “Oh, really? I don’t recall.”

Old Bully: “Did you live in [City]?”

Me: “Yes… when I was a kid.”

Old Bully: “I knew it!” *turns to the other woman* “Ma, this is a girl I used to play soccer with.”

Bully’s Mom: *beaming* “Oh, how nice!”

Me: “Uh, I don’t remember. Anyway, back to your order…”

(Everything went smoothly with their order after that, and they left, giving me weird looks. I would’ve loved to say how horribly she bullied me but I felt like it was overkill with her lovely mom there. It’s funny how she remembers the soccer but not the classroom!)

(This happens in eighth grade, so we are about fourteen. During class, we are doing a writing assignment when my friend asks me:)

Friend: “Wait, do you spell ‘neck’ with a K?”

Me: “Yeah.”

(I looked at her paper; she spelled it “kneck.”)