Way back when I was in 7th grade I was going to a new middle school as I had just moved to a new city. Thankfully the move was during the summer, so I at least didn't get introduced to everyone as the new kid. I'm quiet and introverted by default, but wasn't any more awkward than your average 7th grader. I didn't actively seek out the attention of others, but I also wasn't one to turn away someone who wanted to hang out or have a conversation with me. Young, naive Lamy was about to learn that sometimes you should just listen to your gut and avoid engaging certain people.
For the first couple of weeks I didn't talk to everyone else; a combination of being new to the area and it being a new school year. I did end up eventually recognising some of the kids that I ended up having multiple classes with, which in one instance ended up with me becoming friends with one girl, who we'll call Amanda, when we both realised that we had the exact same class schedule sans homeroom. When I told her that I was new, Amanda began to tell me about some of the other kids. Like who was popular, who was a nerd, who was athletic, who was a slut, those sorts of things. Amanda and I only really talked during classes though, during breaks and lunches we'd go off on our own.
On a fateful day in science class, she physically pointed towards one Chinese kid off in the opposite corner of the classroom. We'll call him Harold. She told me that Harold was disgusting, rude, and creepy to levels unlike any other kid. Now he was in another class of ours as well, English to be precise, but I wasn't seated near him in there either. According to Amanda, he always smelled bad. If this was true, he at least wasn't so rank that it filled the whole room. I shrugged it off and science class went on as normal after the teacher told the two of us to stop talking.
That same day during break, I went to my usual dark and lonely corner to whip out my GBA and play some game (I don't remember what one). As I was in my little reclusive zone, I heard the sound of somebody else walking. A shadow was cast over me, and then not half a second later I noticed a smell. Something like unwashed clothing, musk, and a note of dirt. I looked up and there was Harold, staring down right at me.
"Woah, you have a Game Boy Advance?!"
Those were his words to me. I had developed a bit of a feeling in my gut that was beyond the mild nausea of his odour. Now, like I mentioned in the introduction at the time I was a bleeding heart who wasn't likely to turn people away. I think the GBA was probably a year or so old at this point? So I mean... yeah, I had one but it's not like it was the coolest shiniest new thing at the moment but it was current, I suppose. He then sat down next to me before I could even respond and started talking to me about a bunch of random video games. Of whatever he mentioned I would respond with stuff like "yeah that game was cool" and not much of any real substance. After the longest ten minutes of my life the bell rang and unfortunately, this was when we both had English class and thus he decided to walk with me there. My fate was sealed; Harold had decided that I was now his friend.
For several weeks he'd hang out with me between classes and during lunch and break. At first I thought, I can just be super boring by not responding and maybe he'll eventually leave me alone. This didn't work. What ended up happening is that he would just keep talking about whatever subject his mind had jumped to. I really didn't want him to be around me but I also didn't want to hurt his feelings (I wish I could time travel and tell kid me to just punch him in the gut and walk away). But as the days dragged on this went from being a mild annoyance to a full-on assault on my senses. Harold, as it turned out, had absolutely no fucking manners or concept of personal space.
He would just fart whenever during the middle of classes, walking down the hallway, while talking to someone, he just didn't care. I understand one slipping out because you ate something that didn't agree with you, but this wasn't that; he just truly did not give one single damn whoever he was offending with his gaseous expulsions. He would also just touch people. People as in girls. Only girls. Usually on the shoulder or arm. I, being a girl, naturally wasn't exempted from this. I started wearing long sleeve shirts most days so that he wouldn't make contact with my skin. He'd also blurt out stupid shit during class. Anyone brave enough to call him out on his bullshit straight to his face would get yelled at by him. Most kids just left him the fuck alone and tried to stay far, far away from them. I wish I had done the same.
There was eventually a day where Harold wasn't at school, I assume due to being sick, which was a relief. During break I was drawing in a notebook, in a corner different from the usual one I hung out in. I was approached by three boys, who I immediately recognised as a group that Amanda had warned me about. They were a group of bullies that she told me to not engage with. I seized up, thinking that my refusal to grow a pair and tell Harold to fuck off now meant I was going to be ridiculed despite my only crime being a wuss who couldn't say no despite being uncomfortable.
"Hey, you're that new girl that Harold's been creeping on right?"
A wave of relief fell over me upon hearing this. These guys, despite allegedly being assholes, seemed to feel sorry for me. I honestly couldn't care less what their initial reason for approaching me was, I was just fucking elated that someone, ANYONE, had noticed my plight. We talked for a bit and by the end of break I now had the resolve to tell Harold to fuck off. As I sat through my classes, though, an idea began to form in my head. I couldn't just tell him to fuck off. At this point, it didn't feel like enough. I had to drive the point home. Lunch eventually arrived and I walked all around school trying to find this same group of boys, and eventually I ran into them again and told them I had an idea and was wondering if they'd like to back me up with it.
Harold fucking loved Yu-Gi-Oh, he collected the cards and everything. I told the boys that I could try and get some cards to destroy in front of him. They loved this idea so much that they wanted to be the ones to do the ripping and tearing. Having recently done very well on a test, I showed it to my Dad who would usually get me some kind of small gift for doing well in school. I asked for some Yu-Gi-Oh cards and come a couple days later, he delivered with a handful of packs. I opened them up and had a sizable amount of cards, including one that looked shiny and rare so I separated it from the others. I gave the three boys all of the cards, except for the rare one which I kept.
The day after I gave them all the cards, Harold was creeping and farting around during lunch as usual. My silence didn't bug him in the least. The three boys eventually came by and immediately started making fun of Harold. A small part of me began to feel a little bad, but as they took out the cards and began to tear them up and I witnessed his screaming tard rage over colourful paper my feelings of pity quickly waned. I was a bystander to all of this at first, until the boys ran out of cards and Harold eventually looked over at me. He seemed to be expectant of something, perhaps he wanted me to say something or fight back along his side.
The scene went silent as I reached into my backpack to take out the rare card. I stared Harold dead in the eyes (well, as well as one can with somebody who is Chinese), held up the card, and tore it in half. I thought that his screeching spectacle from mere moments ago was something, but no... I had apparently just unleashed an angry malevolent spirit that was hidden deep within Harold's musky husk of a body upon destroying that card. He roared. I mean a full on animal-like, guttural roar. He fucking LUNGED at me to and try stop me from defacing the card further (it was already in half at that point dude, what else were you gonna do?). The three boys, who were laughing the entire time had stopped. They grabbed Harold, who was so deep into his rage that he was managing a decent fight back against these three other kids, and pried him off of me and threw him into a wall. This was apparently enough to exorcise that dark spirit from his body as Harold immediately fell to the ground and started crying like a little bitch afterwards.
Not wanting to be seen around a crying kid, the three boys took off. So there was Harold, on the ground and sobbing up in a storm in a pile of what were once Yu-Gi-Oh cards. And there I was, just kind of standing there watching. I felt nothing but relief. I couldn't feel sorry for this creepy, disgusting fucker. I wish I could say I had dished out a badass one-liner, but after about a minute I just kind of walked away. I never got in trouble for this. It was in a spot with nobody else around, so I don't even think there were any witnesses. About a week later I tracked down those three boys again and thanked them for their help, giving them some candy my Dad got me but I didn't really want as a sort of payment. Me and these guys were cool with each other afterwards but we didn't really hang out since we didn't have any common interests.
Harold stopped hanging around with me after that. Sometimes he'd shoot glares at me during class, but nothing beyond that. He, of course, didn't stop being a gross and creepy motherfucker. There were lots of rumours about him as the year went on, stuff like feeling girls up or watching porn on the library computers. I wasn't witness to any of that so I can't confirm, but there is one disturbing incident that I can confirm. During science the teacher played a video about human reproduction since it was relevant to what we were studying at the time. Everyone knew what to expect with this video as the 8th graders would warn you about it: there was a segment where they showed a woman giving birth. Most kids just looked away from the screen or looked on in disgust. I was in the former group. I ended up looking away and seeing Harold, who was staring directly at the screen with one of the fucking creepiest smiles I had ever seen in my life. I thought I broke my fucking neck with how fast I turned my head back in the opposite direction after that, but thankfully I was fine.
Sometimes I wonder what happened to Harold. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's just another run-of-the-mill Internet degenerate these days. I'll probably never know and I'm honestly fine with that.
