My name is David. I was born and raised in Roanoke, Virginia, and my childhood started in a quiet and peaceful neighborhood on Patton Avenue.
       I was a quiet, very kind-hearted kid, and I did quite well on school tests and projects. Unfortunately the elementary school bullies took my kindness and intelligence were taken as signs of weakness. There were three of them and they lived down the hill from me. While everyday was the same for them, it wasn’t for me. I never knew what they had in store for me.
       Every afternoon when the school bus dropped me off at the neighborhood corner, I would have to run home to get away from the bullies. Very few kids in elementary were bullied and here I had three guys picking on me.
       Once I made it home I was happy and I felt safe. I told mother, ”Mom they chased me home again, they won’t leave me alone. I don’t understand, I’ve never done anything to them.”
       Mother replied, “You can’t run from them forever, you have to face your fears.” But the next morning when I arrived at the bus stop I was scared all over again. I wasn’t “macho” and even if I was I would still have run because there were three vicious bullies chasing me.
       A couple of days passed without any problems from the three bullies when another bully found me. This one lived on my street. I thought I had finally found a friend in elementary school but after a while he forced me to do disrespectful and outlandish things. And he’d turn ugly if I refused.
       My mother started receiving numerous phone calls from school about my behavior and learned of the things we’d been doing. I told her my new friend was a bully just like the rest of them and that he made me do those things. Mother said, “Well I’ll just have a talk to his parents and get to the bottom of this.” I was relieved, I thought all children were afraid of their parents, just as I was.
       The next morning was Saturday. I started to go outside and noticed the bully approaching my house. He walked up our driveway and immediately started vandalizing my father’s van. I yelled, “Leave my dad’s van alone!”
       He yelled back, “Make me!”
       I snapped. I charged towards him like a raging bull, grabbed him by his t-shirt and rocked his body back and forth against the van like a rag doll.
       When I let go of him, he stared at me. He was surprised that I had enough courage to accept his challenge and then defeat him. As he walked home I stood as still as a statue. I couldn’t believe I’d defeated a bully.
       I slept peacefully that night. I couldn’t wait to go outside and play the next day, thinking I had no worries. I was soon to be proven wrong.
       The next morning we discovered he had vandalized my dad’s other car. My dad immediately called the authorities. The police arrived and my dad told them what happened. The police went to the bully’s house and informed his parents of the situation. From that day on we had no more problems from that bully.

~ ~ ~

       Weeks passed. I was feeling quite proud of myself. Then another bully came into my life, he was far bigger and much older… this bully was my dad.
       One day I saw my enraged dad strike my mother across the face. I stood in fear and surprise as I witnessed the gruesome attack. After he left I didn’t know what to do. I went to comfort my mother, I had to make sure she was OK. What had she done to deserve to be hit like that? Why had my dad done such a thing?
       On another occasion I saw mother frantically running down the stairs. Once again she had been beaten in the bedroom. I tried to think of a way to help her but before I could she was grabbed by her legs and dragged back up the stairs. While she was being dragged upstairs I noticed she was severely bleeding from her mouth. She was screaming in great pain and in fear of more beatings.
       I stood there stunned. I wanted the madness to end so I hurried up the stairs. When I got there dad yelled, “Take your ass to the bus stop or you’ll be next!” I loved my mother but after seeing what had happened to her, I didn’t want to be next, so I left.
       I wasn’t myself at school that day. I kept wonder what was happening to mother. Was she OK? When I came home from school I found her lying in bed, crying. I trembled in fear. “Mom, what are you going to do about this?” I whispered.
       “Just pray and hope this doesn’t happen again.” She sighed.