TNP2-29 "The Swirlies"

TNP2-29 "The Swirlies"

A Chapter by dw817

I felt like I would drown and I think I actually did wet my pants it was so terrifying. They then ran out of the bathroom laughing. I felt so ashamed then. I couldn't tell anyone, not a soul ...


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© December 2014 Written by David Wicker
Please do not reprint without permission

* * *

Rated: TEEN

A new light flickered into view. Naturally Susan and me were drawn to it.

It was only then I realized it was a scene back from 2nd grade in the school bathroom, where bullies forced my head into a toilet and flushed it.

"I don't want to do this - not here, not now !" I told Susan and started to leave.

Susan spoke, "No, David, you cannot run from your past. And those who fail to learn from it will invariably repeat it."

I stood my ground for a moment.

I looked down at her, almost angry and started to cry, "You have NO IDEA what happened to me in school !"

Susan placed a furry paw on my chest in comfort, "Yes I do, David. Yes I do. I know what they did. And what they did was wrong. Very wrong. And I'm sorry for that, I really am. But if we're going to go through your memories to find my origin, you might as well face these painful memories - now."

I was quiet a moment in which Susan added, "Remember what Sybok said ? 'Each man hides a secret pain. It must be exposed and reckoned with. It must be dragged from the darkness and forced into the light. Share your pain. Share your pain with me ... and gain strength from the sharing.'

I nodded. It was good wisdom and when I had first heard it, I believed it - completely. So I stood on the side to watch the wretched scene play out. At the moment there was no-one in the restroom. Then the door burst open and I saw two bullies holding on to my schoolbooks and threatened to flush one or the other my schoolwork - or me. That's where this all began.

And as I was the silent observer I heard my own voice speak from above but with a greater strength than I felt at the moment. As if my life were an open book only to be spoken ...

"I remember being in 2nd grade in the Reading Room and two 4th graders boys came up to me and acted really odd, insisting they had something important to show me. They dragged me and my stuff to the boy's room for no special reason, into one of the stalls.

They wanted me to see something interesting in the toilet. They encouraged me to get down on my knees and take a good look at it. I stood and peered to look. It seemed like a penny but I couldn't tell.

I guess I was really gullible for that age, so I shucked off my backpack for better balance, got on my knees as they suggested over the bowl and looked hard inside. It was definitely a penny. I raised my head up saying, "It's a penny !" and that's when they held me down and gave my first Swirlie. Oh did I cry !

I was so scared and frightened, I felt like I would drown and I think I actually did wet my pants it was so terrifying. They then ran out of the bathroom laughing. I felt so ashamed then. I couldn't tell anyone, not a soul. I stuck my hair under the dryer and fingered it until it was dry.

I sat in the bathroom in a corner until the school bell rang, thinking about what happened and WHY as I had never even considered this kind of unique abuse, and then I ran back to class, late. I didn't see those two boys until a week later. They came back up to me, apologizing and this time insisted REALLY there was something important for me to see in the bathroom, a 10-dollar bill !

It was important for me to remember, it wasn't that I didn't want to go with them that made the mad at me, it was the fact I said I didn't believe they could afford 10-dollars. That was what made them furious. I had to be a smart-aleck, and it would cost me. They made sure of that.

They grabbed the book I was reading and ran out with me hot on their heels. We we back in the bathroom and they dropped the book in a corner, but this time they had something different in mind. As I glared angrily at them, one punched me hard in the chest, and I crumpled over with the one hit. The other started kicking my face as I was on the ground until I was bleeding. I started crying loudly.

One of them said, "Stop crying you baby !" and I know why he was. If I cried loud enough, someone would hear, but I couldn't let someone see me like this, so I did stop. He added, "Now get over here !" and he was at the stall again.

I was still crying, but took off my backpack, still bleeding in my face and went where they were. I gave them no fight at all as they gave me a much longer Swirlie this time, with the blood dripping from my face being sucked down the toilet. I sniffled but kept quiet as they wanted.

They kept at it for minutes. Finally satisfied, they left the restroom. I raised my head up to look and saw the blood dripping down from my face into the water.

I put my head under the hand-dryer fingering my hair to dry it as lunch was nearly over and my next class would begin.

I vowed then not to fight again for something so trivial as it seemed at the time. I was frightened then though, trying to keep an eye out for them, but never did find them. I had hoped they got expelled doing something much worse to someone else. I easily explained to Dad I fell down the stairs at school. I don't think he bought it, but he knew I didn't want to say I got beat up.

* * *

I remember being in the Reading Room and one girl, I think she was a 3rd grader got up to ask me if I knew someone and mentioned two boys names. I said no. Then she asked, "Didn't you get beat up last week ?" and smiled as she said it. I shook my head, lying hard, realizing who she was talking about, NO, she was mistaken.

She nodded, a little disappointed and went back to a corner where 3 other girls, about the same age, were gossiping at a different table.

A few looked up at me and they continued to whisper amongst themselves quietly. Finally all 4 got up from their desk to go over and talk to me.

I thought were being nice to me because they asked me about the story I was reading. And I told them. I said there were extra copies on the shelf too as I kept track of that. They sat down to look at me, almost puzzled. One asked my name. I told her.

Then one asked if I had a girlfriend, I said no. They asked me some adult questions which I didn't know the answer to because I was too young. Like did I know what a vagina was. I said no. They giggled and one whispered to another. Then one asked if I was still being breast-fed and they giggled as they asked.

I didn't know what that meant so I said yes to be rid of them so I could get back to my book. They got big smiles on their faces then. They whispered to each other again, a bit more excitedly. I was feeling a little creeped out about their company now. They were older than me but still too young to be wearing makeup, which they were.

Suddenly one grabbed my arm and the other my backpack, dragging me toward's the girl's room, I held on to my book. They weren't quite as rough as the boys. I stood outside the door and cried as they tried to coax me inside. "I'm not sposed to go in there, ma'am." I said as politely as I could to the girl who had to have 2 years older than me.

They sided with me and made it sound fun, "Oh, yes you are. Today ! You can come in today, it's special, OKAY ?" Well, I DID want to see the inside of a girl's restroom as that was terribly forbidden to me. They assured me I would be alright. They promised. And she squeezed my hand comfortingly. So I went inside with her.

And then they did the same thing to me the boys did earlier, with the exception I didn't struggle with them at all, and let them drag me, with not much of a fight to get it done. Dad taught me NEVER to fight girls AT ALL as I was growing up, so that could be what started the gossip that I was a such a great candidate for this treatment.

It was kind of odd. After only the first few swirlies I had, I didn't fight, remembering how beat up I got the second time. If someone held my hand and pulled on me after that, guy or girl, I didn't fight them, and went with them knowing what they had in mind for me. And I was always right.

The girls would find me in the Reading Room, no matter where I sat and act like it was a game. "Come on ! Come on ! It's time !" I really didn't want any more as they often peed in the toilet before swirling me in it, so I refused one time and tried to ignore them.

One came behind me, tapping me on the shoulder so I turned my head to look at her and then another grabbed the book I was reading, laughing and running out the door.

I ran after them, following them once again all the way inside the girls restroom, as I knew I had permission to go in there now, and ran inside the stall trying to save my beloved book from them as they held it over the toilet. They held my arms back to keep me from retrieving it.

They made it clear it was the book or me. When I reluctantly agreed, they, true to their word, set my backpack and book aside, and then did their business with me in the stall. They always threatened to damage library books I had, and I read a LOT, my schoolbooks, or any homework I had as I often finished it before I got home.

I never had enough sense to use a locker, ever, and carried all my books with me to all classes thinking lockers a waste of time. To this day through college, I never used a locker, and maybe that was just as well as I could've gotten locked in one, which is another school-time prank I know and feared, worse than a swirlie.

All through Elementary I got swirlies by the same collection of mean girls which changed faces over time as classes faded into Middle School, apparently passing down the gossip, who I was, and what I could do to in their bathroom to entertain them each week.

It was never less than 4 or more than 6 girls in number, and I never did make it very hard for them. All it would take is just one girl to visit me as I was interestedly reading a book in the Library.

She didn't even have to be bigger than me or even threaten me at all, and I remember most of the time she was actually smaller than me. She'd take my hand and tug on it, smiling at me, just a little. That was the signal for me to go with her ...

Susan spoke for a second in the momentary silence, "All you had to do was tell someone, David. A teacher, the principal, even the school nurse, anybody - and the abuse you were getting in the bathroom would've ended right there. Why didn't you ever tell anyone about this ?"


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