She was my Toy

October 7, 2010
By Anonymous

The girl. Her. Years ago. The memories of elementary school have blurred, but she remains clear. It was seven years ago, back when I was in first grade. A girl, Yi Yi, was a year or two younger than me, and I remember bullying her.
Like any other breezy day, the boys in the neighborhood, my friend, and I were playing outside. Then, Yi Yi walked out with her small, fuzzy, stuffed-animal bunny that she adored. The boys exchanged a smirk with me and I gave my friend a mischievous look. As we gather together without Yi Yi, we came up with a simple plan. Effortlessly, we took her bunny and threw it everywhere. We threw it on the grass that was full of twigs, and then, we passed it to each other when she tried to get it back. Laughs were cutting through the crisp, fall air. After playing around with the bunny for a few minutes, we got bored, so I gave it back. I did not pay attention to her expression. Perhaps, she was crying, or holding back the tears or was she just looking tough on the outside? Feeling a bit guilty, I helped her get the matted twigs off the bunny; but I only helped pat a few off, and came up with the “I can only help you this much” excuse knowing my friends were behind me.
Another time, my friends and I were sitting on the stone steps in front of my house. The door opened and Yi Yi, the girl with pig tails, walked out. She stared at us with those curious eyes of hers and I knew she wanted to sit with us, too. We decided to make her pay just for her to sit. What a mocking idea. The first step was worth five dollars, then the next was ten, and the highest step was fifteen dollars. After we told her she had to pay, she refused. Yi Yi had that strategy in mind, and she tried to use it with all her effort; but against us, it was nothing. If she tried to sit on the steps, we would push her off. If she was coming towards them, we would try to block it with our arms. Eventually, she was struck with irritation. So she sprinted to her house and came back with four Chuck E Cheese’s coins. I disagreed on allowing her to sit because they were not worth five dollars, and it was not even real money. My friend talked it out of me. As she sat down, I groaned and grunted. The coins were split among the four of us while she sat there empty-handed. Later, mom called me in, so I returned my coin. I would not accept the money from that girl. However, at the time, I secretly had another reason to leave it behind. I was afraid my mom would find out. Returning it was better than receiving punishment.
When thinking back to those actions, I would feel guilty for doing that. At the time, I thought she was a queer kid, a desperate kid. It was so easy to pick on her as the target since she was smaller than me. I had the ruling power she did not have. Plus, I had friends. Even though I helped her pick the twigs out, I knew I was putting no effort, and I only did it so she would not tell on me. Although I gave the “money” back, I still thought that she should not have been permitted to sit on the steps. She was still young and could not belong with us. Later on, in second grade, I remember she moved. Then, as I grew older, my attitude adjusted by itself, but she still remained as my childhood flaw.

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