Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Cried the whole way home..

I didn't want to make any noise about this, or tell anyone I shed tears because of this very lame but anger-raging incident. Despite how frustrated and afraid I felt, sad indeed, somewhere in my heart is telling me that I should forgive.

And I did.

And maybe because of that, I have this tiny bit of courage to share it out. Not because I want revenge, nor sympathy; not because I was angered by it, but because I believe that I am not the only person in this huge, huge world that has been bullied.

Ya I just said that I got bullied can you believe me. And yes the person was bigger sized than me. Wait, not a person, but two.

Today I got shouted at by two middle-aged bus drivers, in public. I park my car outside of my school compound and one of their school vans were parked very close to mine. So close that the van's door was touching my side mirror. Yes, touching. It wasn't hit or anything like that, but there was no distance. From my driver's seat I wind down my window to reconfirm. Yup, definitely touching. Angry, I got out of my car wanting to talk to the driver.

I'm not exactly the best Physics student but I do have some logic. While I was waiting for the bus driver, some of his students loaded themselves into the car. The students, I observed, loaded themselves to the seats far from the door, mostly at the right or at the back. As they hopped on, the van started to tilt the other way, causing the initial touch to be about 1mm distant. Makes any sense?

So when the driver approached his vehicle, I tols him that his van door was touching my side mirror. He went ahead and checked, with that 1mm gap and accused me for being wrong because there was still a gap. I explained that I saw it with my own eyes, his door touching my side mirror, but he went on about how I made wrong accusations, in a loud and rude voice.

An Abby a few years back might have stepped forward and shouted out louder than he did, or she might have punched him right in the face. The Abby today, surprisingly, didn't get boiled but instead wanted to let it off.

But Lady Luck wasn't on her side I guess. My friend told the van driver off about how near he double parked his car beside mine and another car, and the rude driver pointed his finger at my friend and shouted at him. That's not all. Another friend, also a school bus driver came up and also took his share of yelling at us.

They might give you different versions of the story. My friend who got yelled at might have another version, studentswho were there witnessing the whole thing would have assumed that it was our fault, parents would have a misconception about how wreckless P-licenced drivers are.

What I did was not wrong, and I bravely say that what the drivers have done to me and my friends is in fact, a shameful act of abuse.

My initiative was not at all bad. I voiced out my opinions to him politely. I did not raise my voice. I just wanted to tell him that he stopped his car very near mine, hoping that he would apologize. I was going to leave it.

But instead, I got yelled at. Ignored. Nevermind. But my friends got yelled at, not only by him but by his friend as well. For something that they didn't do. And that was the moment when my heart just cracked into pieces.

I wanted to cry.

The drivers continued shouting and pointing at us. Threatening to call the police, as so to fine all of the students for parking outside the school compound. Yelling at us saying that they did not do any wrong and babbled about how kind-hearted they are because they parked as close as they can to the bus stop, for the convenience of their passengers.

That was the longest 5 minutes of my life.

I didn't fight back, the yelling got louder, more eyes staring at me. I got in my car from the passenger's seat. I stared to tear, with the two drivers fiercely staring at me, the students peeking into my car.

I wanted to drive away, but I was blocked by both drivers. I wanted to sound my horn as loud as I could, but something inside stopped me. Fear? Anxiety?

I didn't want to start a commotion.

I cried the whole way home, and later on wept in my grandparents' living room. Partly because I was angry and sad, partly because I felt bad for my friends who got yelled at because of me, mostly because I realized how disgusting some part of this society has become.

If he had just admitted the door was touching the side mirror. If he refused to admit but just said sorry for parking too close. If he didn't ask his friend to gang up on us.

Bullies, I believe, have some form of insecurity in life.

And I hope this bully, and his friend, would be able to find their security, in a different manner, with an improved attitude.

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