What is the most disgusting thing you've ever seen in your life?

This story starts off quite silly.

A group of my friends and I are sitting in math class on the second floor, enjoying our lunches and each other’s company. One friend starts reading a really bad fanfiction—out loud…

As a joke, I pretend to storm out of the class and wait in the hallway for a minute or two.

I step into the hall. As usual, there’s a couple of other students scattered, waiting around lockers and classrooms. Nothing unusual. So, I sit down.

Down the hall on my right, I overhear some people arguing.

“Well what are you going to do about be it?! I’m twice your size!”

I tune in and keep listening.

There’s a group of upperclassmen by the end of the hall. A few steps away from them is a kid in my grade. He is just walking from one class to another, and the group of upperclassmen continue chatting,

“Why are you getting so mad about it? What’s your problem? It’s just a joke!”

The kid in my grade was certainly getting mad at the group. He disappeared into the next classroom, but the talking doesn’t stop.

“Imagine if he couldn’t actually do something about it, he’d probably just tackle you like a chihuahua or whatever!”

The rest of the group is laughing.

It’s disgusting. They were teasing him for his height. I stay out for a few more minutes than I originally intended too, just in case he comes out of the classroom and the group says anything else to him. If that happens again, I’ll interfere.

Just like the kid, I get pretty angry myself. I feel kinda sick to my stomach. It’s like adrenaline, but not the good kind. So I went back into the classroom and gathered my friends. By this point, I’m nervous, have no clue what to do, and probably stammering a lot.

“There was, uh, some kid out there getting, um, picked on I think…”

Most of my friend’s jaws drop, eyes widen, and heads turn. They start asking questions. Who? What happened? Who was it?

So I explain exactly what I saw. We all step outside and I point to the group of upperclassmen, hoping they don’t notice my friends and I. I tell my friends my plan to stay in the hall in case he comes out again, in case I need to interfere. They all sorta nod in agreement, head back inside, and take their seats. I sit outside for a few more minutes.

Ten or so minutes pass. The group is still there, but the kid is still in the classroom down the hall. I walk back into my own room and tell my friends my next idea. Past the kid, past the group, and to the left is Mrs. J. I know her well. I’m friends with both her son and daughter, one and two years apart from myself.

My next plan was to ask Mrs. J to keep an eye on the group, considering lunch ends in another ten minutes. It’s perfect! I know her well enough that she’ll be serious about my problem, and she is close enough to the group of upperclassmen. My friends approves of this plan.

So, I go down the hall. Pass the kid. Pass the group. To the left.

To my surprise, the door is closed, locked, and empty.

I retreat to my friends. After letting them know Mrs. J isn’t in her room yet, I go back to sitting in the hall. I decided I’d stay out there until lunch ended, and I did.

Five minutes pass. I see Mrs. J in the hall, approaching her classroom.

I try to make my way past the noticeably smaller group one more time. Once I arrive at her door, I step in, knock, and greet her. Right after, I immediately bring up the situation. I explain what I saw, what I did, and who it was. I didn’t catch a great glimpse of who was talking, even with my glasses on. Besides, there were too many kids. But some had already left—only three remained at the lockers. I know one of them was apart of the teasing, but I’m not sure about the other two.

Mrs. J thanks me for letting her know, and sends me on my way. I head back, tell my friends I finally found Mrs. J, and finally take a seat at my desk.

I feel relieved and anxious all at once. This was recent, and I did not confront the kid in my grade about it at all. I plan to do so, however, next time we cross paths. Hopefully someone will be able to talk to the group who was teasing the kid. It certainly isn’t a pretty sight, and I always get anxious when others are getting teased. I used to just walk away from it, but that just makes me a bystander. I don’t want to be a bystander anymore—I want to help!

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