This is from something that happened a few days ago, it was a pretty regular day of school. Thursdays usually are. Feeling a little out of it I head off to the subway on my own. Now you don’t know my school, but the subway really is just down this little street from us, 7 minutes. It’s a weird, basically dead end street and every afternoon it fills with teenagers all over the road walking to the subway. (Then we all nicely jay-walk across a perpindicular street, 50 feet short of the cross walk and enter the mini-mall which guards the entrance of the subway)

There’s also a small park that runs through the residential area, that once used to be a river. It’s just a small path snaking through the neighborhood that is now used by the smokers. So it’s not uncommon to see them hanging out on the road near one of the entrances. Also uncommon is the amount of them. But this time was weird, and I walk behind a few guys chucking snowballs at a kid up ahead.

Their target? Wilson. Who is this Wilson? Frankly I don’t really know him, I’ve seen him around the school a few times. (My highschool is pretty large, granted.) I only learn his name later, but what’s plain to see is that Wilson does not know English pretty well.  I don’t know many people who like having a gang of guys chucking snowballs at you, so Wilson turns around and says a hearty “Fuck you!”. This sends them into fits of laughter, what’s meant to be tough only comes out as “Fu-ah-k  Yew!”.

He’s pissed now, his limit has been pushed. They tell him to come over here and say it to their face, so he does.  A meek cry from the two guys walking beside him. “Wilson, don’t…” So there they are, face to face. Wilson vs. Twenty. There’s a group of girls walking past telling each other not to look, and there’s people everywhere. His friends turning their backs as I scream at them to go defend him! Who else will? Well, nobody. I screamed, I asked what the fuck was wrong with them, and then for whatever reason I turned around. I guess I listened to those girls, and just in time to miss whatever made the loudest “thwack” noise possible. There’s Wilson, in the snow, getting his stomach kicked in, almost his face. There’s the unknown attacker, getting pulled off by his group of twenty. They’re proud of themselves, proud they pulled him off before it got really bad, right?

In the most movie-esque scene ever I could swear a single tear rolled down my cheek, and I took a step forward, and I walked over, but somehow I was pulled right into discussion with my friends who were nearby. Carried by the conversation I found myself all the way at the subway. This is were I excused myself ran off to calm down.

What is this bystander syndrome that we can’t beat? I felt so ridiculously small at that point. Like a small and stupid girl I ran to the closest friends and then cried about how I did not do anything. I defend myself by asking myself “well, what could have I done?” Step between two angry males? Defend a guy who’s not asking to be defended? Wouldn’t that make the situation worse? Should I have taken my camera, shot some pictures, get them to the right place? I don’t even know. Is this one of those things that just happens, and we have to keep walking?

I got into a fight in middleschool, my first and last. Eva the tomboy vs the group of guys who would not leave her alone. I don’t even remember his name anymore, but he threw a tennis ball at my head and that was the last straw. I launched at him, his friends grabbing his iPod, the others cheering him on. To be honest, I lost. Four years of Judo down the drain, not even a low shot in the balls. A can of pop all over me, a nice wad of spit in my face, and that was the end of that. I didn’t get in trouble, and was told to be picked up from school for a while. I think one of his friends later told me he was sorry, or something. I think my brother went and found him, and cut up his bike. I think I got a lot of attention for being a victim. I think it was a really stupid thing to do.

Taught me that I’m just not as tough as I had built myself up to be. I still do it, out of habit. I don’t know why.