I moved to a new high school. A popular guy kissed me, just on the cheek. Everyone freaked the hell out.
“I was bullied by a forty- nine year old at work.” My mother, who is 88 years old now holds my hand like I am a child.
at my work I can dress however way I want, since it’s part of my “formal” attire for work..
“Why don’t you and I go for a walk around here?” Here means a nursing home.
“My darling’ December.” She said happily “Sit down with us and have a nice Thanksgiving feast.”
Part of me, did not want to have dinner with them. I felt guilty, in a dark place, realizing that my mother was in a nursing home. Then--- I met her son. The bully at work. I gasped, feeling sick to my stomach.
“This is my son Hector. He works for-”
“I know who he works for. He works for a company, my company, called Bethany’s News Paper.”
“What’s going on?” His mother asked, looking like she was about to pass out.
“He,” I began to say “Bullied me at work and he stole my identity." He almost got me fired, and didn’t do anything about it.” I began to cry, rushing to the nearest bathroom. I almost puked. Luckily I didn’t.
The next few weeks, Hector got arrested. I was over the moon.