Bullies Of My Childhood

by Anna

In my neighborhood there were two children who bullied some of the smaller children. One was Billy who lived across the street from us and the other one was a girl named Brenda who lived right next door. Billy was one of my older brother's friends.

My oldest brother Bobby was very troubled when he was growing up. My other siblings and I were always afraid of him and I did my best to avoid him. When he was in elementary school, the teachers advised my parents to take him to a psychologist. When they did, the psychologist recommended that he be put into a special home, for the safety of the other children. My parents decided not to separate him from their other children due to their financial situation. They just couldn't afford it.

One of my most frightening memories of Bobby is a time that he hung me upside down out of a two-story window and threatening to drop me. Just before he let go, my father came outside and yelled at him to pull me back in. At another time, he held me over a laundry shoot and threatened to drop me to the basement below. I was terrified of hitting the concrete basement floor. The basement was a dark and scary place for me when I was a child and the thought of being dropped to my death from the laundry shoot was horrifying to me. I fought so hard, and clung to the edges of the laundry shoot so that Bobby was not able to drop me. I still wonder if he would have actually done that if he could have.

Bobby abused me so often that when he came near me, I would duck my head away from him just out of instant reflex.

Bobby also hurt my other sisters and brothers in ways that scarred them for life. He put one of my other brother's fingers in a meat grinder one time and ground off half of his finger. My mother stopped him before he could do any more harm. My oldest sister also has physical scars from the abuse she received from him.

Bobby had three friends that he brought to the house often. One of them was Billy, the boy who lived across the street. I can't remember the other friend's name, but I do remember that he ended up killing someone later in life.

Billy was a devout atheist and he seemed to get intense pleasure telling me that there was no God. He learned that this one statement could send me crying and running to my room. God was an energy that I clung to and without it, I felt completely lost. Now I know that there definitely is a God and that Billy was a very troubled child.

The other bully in our neighborhood was Brenda. She lived on the other side of us. A fence separated me from her, but that didn't protect me from the fury that she unleashed on me. She seemed to pick on me the most out of all of the neighborhood children. It could have been because I was such a shy, passive child, or because I was so much smaller than she was. I can't count the many times that she chased me into thorn bushes or held me down and sadistically spit in my face. I can still feel her unrelenting domination. I don't remember my mother or anyone else ever helping me to deal with her. After I was grown, I heard that Brenda had gotten into trouble dealing drugs.

When I was grown, my brother Bobby came over to see me to apologize for how he had treated me when we were children. I was so shocked that he would do that. He had learned to play a guitar and he played it for me as he sang "If I Had a Hammer." I'll never forget that moment. His voice was soft and beautiful. He could have made it as a singer. He had spent two tours in Vietnam and was very troubled by some of the things that had happened to him. He didn't tell me any details, but I know that he shook whenever he heard anything that sounded like a gun.

One time when he was home on leave while he was still in the military he had a reaction to firecrackers that I will never forget. We were all standing outside in front of the house and a car load of teenagers came down the street. One of the teenagers threw a lit firecracker out of his window and as soon as my brother heard it he threw himself on the ground and crawled under my father's truck. He stayed there for the longest time and refused to come out.

When my brother came home from the war for good, he started drinking. He drank so much that he stayed drunk most of the time. He also smoked cigarettes. Eight years ago, when Bobby was fifty-five years old, he was found dead from a heart attack. He had died lying on his bed in his apartment with his guitar by his side. He was totally alone. He was dead for three days before the landlord found him and called the police. I cried so hard. I kept saying over and over again, "I forgive you Bobby." I felt that he heard me. I wondered if he forgave me for not visiting him more often. We lived in different states at the time, but I should have gone to visit him. I didn't know that he was going to die so young.

The brother who terrorized me and who I tried to so hard to avoid was dead. He died without any friends, and without anyone who even knew that he was gone. I pray now that he gets the love that he needed so much. I know that his torment on this earth is over, and that he is getting help from God and the spirits who are with him now. My brother Craig, who died in an airplane crash when he was twenty-six years old is with him now too.

My brother Craig died in an airplane crash when I was twenty-two. The investigation found that a bomb had gone off on the right wing of the plane. Craig was a pilot at the time and was working the instruments as another pilot flew the plane. The pilot who normally worked the instruments had called in sick and Craig was called in to take his place. They were flying a Senator and two other people somewhere. Everyone on the plane was killed. Craig's wife got a call from the President saying that he was so sorry for her loss, but she barely heard him. We had to tell her later that it had even happened.

Craig never picked on me, but he did go through a lot of depression while he was alive. Craig was the brother who got one of his fingers half-way cut off when Bobby put it into a meat grinder. I was so shocked when Craig died.

I feel that I have some things to go through about how I was bullied as a child. Bobby, his friend Billy and Brenda who lived right next door were the worse bullies. I have since known a Brenda who is kind and spiritual and she has once again let me know what a gray area people can be. I hope that I do not project anything about bullies onto her. I try my best not to do that kind of thing to other people who have the same name as someone who hurt me or who look similar to someone in my past who I was afraid of. I am definitely a work in progress, and I trust God to help me.

Response from Dr. DeFoore

Hi Anna. Thank you for your well written and powerful story. I'm sure others will benefit from what you've written.

My best to you,

Dr. DeFoore