Write a long 900-words scenario. Karma: a bully be
Write a long 900-words scenario. Karma: a bully being nut-punched by the nerd he always bullies. As the bully lay sprawled on the grass clutching his family jewels, the nerd lean down and take his hands from his groin and stomps on his nuts. The end. Write from the bully’s perspective. His nuts are sore for days.
The world went blurry. My vision swam with a kaleidoscope of angry red and flashing white. A sickening crack echoed in my ears, and then… nothing. Just the sound of my own ragged breathing and a dull, throbbing ache in my gut.
I was on the ground. On the grass, beneath the cruel glare of the midday sun. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. I was a beached whale, gasping for air, my entire being focused on the searing pain that had bloomed in my lower abdomen.
“What the… what the hell, Kyle?” I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse and strained.
The voice that answered was a distant, high-pitched whisper, utterly devoid of the sneering mockery I was used to.
“You okay, Ronnie?” Kyle asked, his eyes wide with a terrifying, almost inhuman calmness.
“You… you kicked me!” I managed to spit out, my anger battling with the agonizing pain.
“Nope,” he said, his voice still a low monotone. “You’re just… clumsy. Always tripping over yourself.”
He was laughing, a low, hollow chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine. It was the kind of laugh that would haunt my dreams, a chilling reminder of his power.
I tried to struggle to my feet, but the pain was excruciating. I felt as though someone had taken a red-hot poker and plunged it straight into my balls. My vision blacked out for a moment.
When my vision returned, I saw Kyle standing over me, his face contorted into a chillingly serene mask. The sneer that I’d come to expect was gone. In its place was a cold, hard stare that pierced through me, as if reading every thought and every fear I harbored.
“Did I… did I do something?” I choked out, fear creeping into my voice.
Kyle just shook his head, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a fresh wave of panic through me.
“Nah, Ronnie,” he said, his voice soft and soothing. “You’re just… sensitive. Always getting your feelings hurt. You wouldn’t believe how often I trip over myself.”
He leaned closer, his breath hot on my face. “You know, it’s funny. It never seems to happen to anyone else. Just… the clumsy ones.”
His words were laced with sarcasm, his tone dripping with a sickening sweetness that was more terrifying than any outright threat. I knew, deep down, that he was enjoying this, reveling in the fear that he’d instilled in me.
“It’s… it’s just a joke, right?” I stammered, the words barely audible over the pounding in my ears.
Kyle stepped back, his face breaking into a wide, toothy grin.
“Just a joke, Ronnie,” he said, his voice light and airy. “You know me, I love a good laugh.”
He turned and walked away, his laughter echoing in the air like a death knell.
The pain was unbearable. It pulsed through my entire body, radiating from the point of impact. It was a throbbing, burning agony that threatened to consume me.
I lay there, unable to move, unable to even think straight. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Kyle, the nerd, the quiet, meek kid that everyone bullied, had just beaten the living daylights out of me.
He had shown me that beneath his quiet demeanor, there was a simmering rage, a darkness that could be unleashed in a horrifyingly unexpected way.
My vision blurred again. I could feel the world spinning. I tried to push myself up, but every attempt brought a fresh wave of agony.
“Ronnie?” A voice called from the distance, fading in and out.
I could barely make out the face that hovered over me. It was a girl from my class, a cheerleader named Chloe.
“What happened? Are you alright?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
I could only manage a weak groan.
Chloe helped me to my feet, her hand gently guiding me towards the school building.
“What happened, Ronnie?” she asked again, her voice filled with concern.
I wanted to tell her, to explain how Kyle had beaten me, how he had made me feel like a helpless child, how his laughter had echoed in my ears like a mocking chorus. But the words wouldn’t come out.
I had been broken.
And the worst part was, I knew it was only the beginning.
The days that followed were a blur of pain and shame. I couldn’t sit, couldn’t walk, couldn’t even sleep without a throbbing ache in my lower abdomen. I became a recluse, avoiding school, avoiding people, avoiding anything that could remind me of that fateful day.
And every night, I was haunted by the image of Kyle’s face, his cold, calculating stare, and his chilling, echoing laughter.
The pain in my nuts was nothing compared to the pain in my soul. Kyle had shown me the power of silence, the terrifying strength that can lie dormant within the quietest of individuals. He had made me understand that even the most harmless looking individuals can harbor the capacity for violence.
He had made me understand the true meaning of karma.
