I’d kept the wheels off my mum’s old baby pram
in our back garden intending to make a
wooden go-cart for my two younger brothers.

One day they came running home and the youngest
aged about five had the makings of a black eye
the flesh above it, swelling. My other brother
was around seven and not a fighter.
I was their big sis aged about eleven.

I was never a fighter, a complete novice
when it came to violence, having a bully
for a step-father I’d seen enough of
anger, destruction of our home and, of
walking on egg shells around his moods
in case we set him off on one
so yeah,
I was not a fighter


could not stand by and see my young brothers
bullied by a bigger boy of my age either.
Besides which, he’d stolen our wheels.

My two brothers crying, the three of us
reached the bullies house but he was across
the road in a field playing with, our wheels.

Quietly I told him they were ours and had
been stolen from our back yard.
He denied it, swore and shouted me down
so, I ignored him and reached
to take back what was ours.

I didn’t see it coming
with my brothers watching closely
his fist slammed into my lips and then
his fists rained down on me again and again
I found myself fighting to protect my face
from a further sear of blinding pain.

A crowd gathered around to watch this spectacle
and I was struggling with this bully
trying to hold off his blows
whilst trying with one hand to also stop my pants from
dropping down around my knees because the
button had fallen off them long ago and
tearing into me he’d ripped off the safety pin
which had been holding them up.

What a mess.

The crowd of kids were shouting
‘Go on, get him Bren.’
I don’t even remember what happened
but somehow I managed to beat him off
whatismore, seemed to win the fight.

He quit trying to beat me
and we walked away with our wheels.
My two brothers were amazed
and, so was I.

One big fat bloody lip, a few cuts, bruises later
I looked much worse for the wear
but, was a hero in my younger brother’s eyes.

We did make a great go-cart too!


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

I don’t agree with fighting at all but, sometimes you have to make a stand and do what is right for those you love. I was so upset that my youngest brother of five had a black eye and neither of them deserved to lose those wheels to a bully of my size and age.
Bullying is so difficult to tackle because there are no rules. Adults seem helpless to help kids who are bullied because usually parents of these bullies are bullies themselves and don’t see a problem with that type of behaviour. All I know is, you have to stand up for what is right and take back your power from anyone who steals it by bullying.
Who knows, maybe God was on my side…. LOL

Shared with Three Word Wednesday #CCLXXIII Flesh, Novice, Sear
Poetry Jam Bully