Title: Bully
Summary: Transcript of Arthur Kirkland's My Story. [Arthur Kirkland. Age 18. Popular. Smart. Athletic. And A Bully. Why? An astonishing narrative about what it means to fit in and be popular.] My Story programs are sponsored by the Stop Bullying Now Foundation.
Pairings: Debatable pairings involving Arthur. Probably only hints of USUK and FRUK but there should be enough hints for shipping goggles to pick up on. Antonio, Arthur, Francis, and Gilbert will all go out with numerous girls throughout the course of the fic.
Warnings: Anti-gay comments, crude language, anti-Islamic comments, sexism, the works (I do not in any way condone any of the behavior in the story. Cussing will be probably kept to a minimum, just enough to seem at least somewhat realistic) Oh yeah, and Arthur doesn't speak with a British accent (He lives in the US and has for a long time)
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the brand names mentioned. Also, I'm pretty sure the Stop Bullying Now Foundation is real, but I don't have any rights over that either. I'll change the name if I can think of something else.
A rustle of papers, followed by the groan of a chair as someone sits down
"Ah, hello?"
Loud thunks as someone taps the microphone twice
"Oh, it's working. I suppose I'll start now then. Um, hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland. I am a senior at Cleveland High school. Age 18. This is going to be the first time I've ever spoken about my experiences with bullying in the American school system, at least in public. Is it possible for my name to be changed when the recording is played over the intercom? I'd rather not have this affect my college applications. Uh… I'll start over then.
Sharp inhale of breath
"My name is Arthur Kirkland. Age 18. I'm a senior at Cleveland High school. Graduated third in my class of two hundred. I was on the school's soccer team and helped lead my team to victory at the citywide championship. Next week, the team is competing at the statewide level. I won second place at science fair this year, and I graduated third in my class of two hundred. I was one of the most popular kids in my grade. And I was a bully.
Pause then a sigh
"I suppose it all started when I was six and just moved to the States from Great Britain. I was an awkward tyke, always about two inches shorter than the rest of the boys. My parents had just divorced, my father staying in London with my four older brothers and my mother retaining custody of me. The two of us moved to the United States because my mother wanted to experience a change of scenery as well as get away from my father. She found a job teaching in the city I now live in."
"At any rate, I entered my first American public elementary school then. Everything went well for a few weeks even though I was the new kid with the funny accent. I was friendly with most of the other children; they asked questions about Britain, but there was no teasing, at least not yet. At lunchtime, we sat in number order at the lunch table, so there wasn't any strife there. The first signs of a problem were during recess. During recess, the third, fourth, and fifth grade boys would run off and play sports on the field while the little kids were relegated to the playground. It wasn't a bad trade, but the younger boys envied the older boys and wanted to play football and soccer, too. So until we were old enough to take over the field, everyone stuck to the playground and played tag. The girls would tire of tag after some time and go play House instead. I was always roped into their games, not always unwillingly. Like I said earlier, I was a short little boy with a wild imagination and manners passed on to me by my mother, and I liked helping my mother with sewing and cooking at home. House to me, was just another extension of my imagination. Whenever I played House with the other kids, I was always the father. We would sweep out the woodchips from under the playground, and I would proudly go out of the 'house' to go to work. The other girl I played mostly with, Anri, was the mother, and any other kids who played were the baby. Most of the time, the two of us went on adventures outside of the 'house' and played make-believe, usually with fantastical stories about fairies that I came up with. Anri would always insist on her being the princess, and I was her 'Prince Charming," a role with which I fell into with surprising ease. I got into the habit of being polite to girls after that, a characteristic with which my mother was very pleased.
"That year was first grade. Then came second grade, and a new boy named Francis showed up from Louisiana. He was charismatic and cool, full of stories from his adventures killing gators and vanquishing evil voodoo queens, with long curly blond hair. He had an uncanny resemblance to a popular child star at the time, and sometimes he'd even whisper to his friends that he had to move so that the press wouldn't follow him around all the time. No wonder he instantly became the most popular kid in class. Even the teacher liked him and always let him get away with almost anything.
"It was at recess one day, when Anri and I were pretending to cook supper for the 'baby,' that Francis turned his sights to me. He called me out from under the playground and called me 'gay' for playing House. It was one of his selling points, I suppose, that he knew all these slurs and insults. At the time, I didn't know what the words meant, but I knew it wasn't good. I don't think anyone else really knew what 'gay' meant, not even Francis, although I had heard my father mutter it when I showed him a painting that I had made in art class of a fairy. I had stood up and yelled back at him, 'I'm not gay! You're gay!' The playground was silent, every second grader watching Francis and me. A group of older boys, fifth-graders and bored of playing football, had been loitering around the edges of the playground and overheard our exchange. They walked up, all tall and oozing dominance over us little kids, and laughed at us. 'It's a mini faggot,' one said, pointing at me, and the other fifth grade boys started laughing and repeated what he had said.
"I was seven at the time and still cried easily. I burst into tears at being called what I thought meant a little cigarette and screamed words that I heard my father yelling to my mother before they divorced. The older boys looked extremely affronted and stopped calling me 'faggot.' I took it as a sign that I was doing the right thing. Then, one of them punched me right in the stomach, stopping my tirade against them. I fell down hard onto the woodchips. They took that as an excuse to continue and started kicking me. Eventually, the teachers came over and broke up the fight. I looked like a mess then, wild hair, wide, red-rimmed eyes, and a hoarse voice from yelling so much. I was given out-of-school suspension for three days, I believe for instigating the fight. Francis got off with a minor infraction warning. The fifth-grade boys were on the football team, so they got out-of-school suspension for a week and a conference with the principal. Probably thought of the suspension as a vacation.
Bitter chuckle before a deep breath
"That was the beginning of my experience with bullying. I soon turned into a bully myself to avoid being teased, but that was later, in fourth grade. The next time I went to school, I was still nursing a black eye, and I was anxious about having to face my classmates. I saw Francis again in class, and he had smiled when he saw me. He had come straight up to me at recess and started taunting me about being a crybaby. I punched him. I was still angry over my suspension and the grounding that Mum had given me, and I blamed Francis for the entire mess. I wasn't very strong at all, so it had left him more irritated than hurt. He looked around and saw his followers watching wordlessly, their eyes just waiting for him to reassert his dominance. He pushed me back into the playground and kicked me for a while before losing interest and leaving. The entire fight lasted maybe two minutes, maybe even less. The teachers were occupied with talking to a student on the other side of the playground, so they never noticed. I was too afraid to tell the teacher because I didn't want to get in trouble again. The next day was similar, and the day after that. He'd taunt me, and I'd throw the first punch before getting beaten up. It got worse when Francis started passing notes around the classroom that I was gay and a crybaby, and no one should play with me anymore. I got back at him with a note that I signed 'Francis Bonnefoy' about how much he wanted to touch the teacher's bum. I got the idea from a book I had read, where the protagonist had exacted revenge on his bully by planting notes like that. The teacher of course knew it was me, for I had the neatest handwriting in the grade, and who else would say 'bum' but the little British boy? I was given in-school suspension for a day for that. Just my luck, the older boys from the playground were there. Whenever the counselor wasn't looking, they would pelt me with bits of wadded up paper and whisper "fag" whenever she went out to go photocopy some papers. I was made to clean up the mess they made afterwards. Unfortunately, Francis had done his job well, and he and the other children came up with a new game in which I was infected with Arthur germs. As soon as anyone had any physical contact with me, they were infected and were avoided like the plague as well.
"Recess soon became no fun for me after that. The other children shunned me and wouldn't let me play tag with them. Whenever Anri forgot that I had Arthur germs, I found that she wasn't as interested in playing House then and only wanted to play 'Beauty Parlor,' a game I wasn't so keen on playing. I was bored one day, so finally I relented, and Anri and a group of other girls joined together into a little grassy patch under a few trees to play. Barely even five minutes had passed before I wanted out. Just then, a girl named Eliza wandered along to see what we were doing. At the time, I wondered if she was really a girl since she only wore shorts and had her hair cut short like a boy's. Eliza had never shown interest in any 'girly' things like makeup, and at the Christmas gift exchange, she had swapped her Bratz doll for a Hot Wheels car and a box of Nerds. She could outrun anyone in the grade and was probably the most popular girl, at least among the boys. So when she found that I was playing 'Beauty Parlor' with the other girls, she told everyone else. Francis called me a sissy and a girl, but this time other kids joined in my torment. During class, balled-up notes would hit my head, and I would read the shaky handwriting, 'No on lieks yuo.' I endured for the remainder of second grade, and then third grade came.
"Third grade was the year that the younger boys were finally able to join the older boys in their games on the field. I had come back from a summer in England, visiting my father and three older brothers, and found that while everyone had forgotten about shunning me, I still wasn't welcome in any of the social circles. While I wasn't interested in playing American football, I remember being extremely keen on playing soccer. I suppose I still called soccer 'football' back then, and I was teased for that somewhat. I enjoyed playing soccer in P.E., and sometimes the teachers would let us borrow the soccer ball for impromptu games on the field. I always wanted to play soccer, but Francis would say that if I was in the game, then he wouldn't play. I found my escape in playing with a new boy, Gilbert. He was albino and German, and he would always brag that his grandparents were from Prussia. I said that he was a liar because Prussia wasn't on the big world map on the classroom wall, but he insisted that the map was wrong. He liked football better than soccer, but you can't play football with only two kids; so we played soccer. We'd kick around a brightly colored rubber ball because the other kids had the real soccer balls. It wasn't long before Francis invited Gilbert to his back-to-school party, an initiation ceremony of sorts and a testing ground. Apparently Gilbert passed with flying colors; I heard something about an amazing paintball fight and pushing girls into a swimming pool. I was left alone during recess. I rejoined Anri and her group of friends, Elise and Mei. They were friendly enough, but they were more interested in making daisy chains and giggling over how dreamy the boy of the day's, usually Francis, hair was. Sometimes they would play four-square with me. I was terrible at four-square, and I could feel the taunts behind my back whenever I played the 'girly' game from across the field where all the cool kids played.
"After a while, I became more withdrawn at school and stopped playing with Anri, Elise, and Mei. At home, Mum had taken up another job teaching at a local community college as well, so her working hours were strange. She had a neighborhood boy, Romulus, act as a 'baby-sitter' of sorts to me whenever she was out, but he usually sat on the living room couch and watched television shows about gladiators and wrestlers. Sometimes he talked to me, but it was mostly to tell me to fetch him some more cola from the fridge. I mostly stayed on the family computer, playing online games, and lusting desperately after a fancy cell phone like Francis and Gilbert had. During recess, I got permission from the teacher to go to the library instead, where I'd read stories where the protagonist always won. I dreamed of magic and foreign lands where I could play soccer all day, and everyone would cheer when I made a goal. After returning from recess to class, I went back to facing my tormentors. Francis and Gilbert amused themselves for a while by stealing my pencils and throwing eraser crumbs at me in class. I suspect that had I ignored their antics, they would have grown bored soon enough, but I had a terrible temper that went off at the slightest provocation. Double that with my diminutive size, for I was the shortest child in the grade, including both girls and boys; and you get a rather comical sight: a little boy fighting off tears and trying to act tough.
"I credit third grade for the year that I noticed the other 'outcast' of sorts in the class. He always sat in the front, like me, but I had never paid him any notice at all. I didn't even really know his name at the time, but I knew he was a chubby short kid who was instantly labeled 'dork' by Francis and the rest of the grade. He had the best grades in the class and read under the desk while the teacher was teaching. During science and math, he would disappear to another classroom for his 'Gifted' classes. I wanted to be called 'gifted' by my mum, too, so I started reading in class. The teacher noticed me of course, and not him, and chewed me out for disrespect. After giving me a minor infraction report for my mother to sign, the teacher also included another sheet with information about the accelerated learning program. I remember coming home proudly, having looked at the papers beforehand, and showing my mother the form to fill out when she got back at eight from her job. We went to a restaurant for dinner that night, Indian food, and she wasn't even angry that I had gotten in trouble again.
"The next year, I entered the Talented Academically Group. It was an accelerated learning program that let students take special math and science classes instead of the normal classes, colloquially known as TAG by everyone in the school, and I loved it. I learned that the boy in my class who was also in TAG was named Timo, was Finnish, and wanted to become my friend. He introduced me to the other TAGs who had been in the program since kindergarten: Eduard, a fifth grader, computer whiz, and Timo's best friend; Kiku, a Japanese boy in first grade who refused to talk; and Matilda, a shy girl in third grade with the biggest glasses I had ever seen. I immediately dismissed Timo, Eduard, and Matilda as geeks, dorks, and nerds and Kiku as a weirdo to be avoided. There was a new boy in the TAG program was named Antonio and had just moved from Spain. The school was in a big city, so a lot of immigrant kids went to the school I guess. His parents were real estate agents, and he introduced himself at the front of the TAG classroom as the future big football star. He called soccer 'football' at the time, and I remember being confused on why he never got teased for that, like I did. I had gone up to him, full of bravado and self-confidence, and said that I wanted to be a famous soccer star, too. He had laughed and challenged me to a short soccer game, where he beat me.
Shortly after Antonio and I became friends, Elise was kidnapped while walking home from school alone. The area was searched and every possible witness questioned, but no trace of her was ever found. This understandably put every adult on edge, and my mother finally gave me a cell phone 'for emergencies only.' I proudly showed it off at school to Antonio, who smiled and congratulated me before revealing that he had a smartphone ten times more expensive than mine. He then let it slip that both Gilbert and Francis had smartphones, too, and thoroughly crushed my excitement. I forgave him for that, since he convinced Francis to let me play soccer. Antonio was the best soccer player in fourth grade, and everyone wanted him to be on their team. He refused to play on Francis's team unless I was included in the game, too. Even though I usually played against him, I had fun. I still lost every game though because I swear my team was composed of the worst soccer players in the history of soccer. The friendship lasted for maybe a month before Francis sent a back-to-school party invitation to Antonio, and my new friend joined Francis's collection of followers. This time, I heard rumors of prank calls and a near run-in with a police officer. Unfortunately, unlike my last friendship with Gilbert, who I had primarily used as a soccer buddy, I had confided in Antonio that I wanted to be a fairy expert and go on expeditions documenting the fae if the sports career didn't work out. Of course, Antonio told Francis, and the whole grade learned of my secret belief in magical beings, fed by an indulgent mother who still tucked me into bed and read me bedtime stories whenever she could and an overactive imagination coupled with unlimited access to the fantasy section of the library.
"Needless to say, I was ostracized. The shunning game was reinstated, and someone started stealing my bag lunches from my locker while I was at TAG. Since it was elementary school, the lockers were inside the classroom and didn't have locks, so it was an extraordinarily easy task to steal my lunch. I told the teacher about my stolen lunches, and he essentially did nothing. I think he told me to stop losing my lunches and blaming others. I switched to eating school lunches, horrid as they were, and told my mother that I hated her cooking. I lied and said I wanted to eat cafeteria food. She grounded me and lectured me about back talking, but she gave me lunch money. I didn't have a Facebook yet, but most of my classmates did, despite us being quite a few years below the age limit. I overheard Anri and Mei whispering that Francis had created a 'Arthur Kirkland is a dork' group and hate pages and got more than half of the grade to join. Kids I didn't even know from other grades joined as well and posted messages about how I should 'do the world a favor and jump into a lake because God hates gays.' Notes were passed around in class on a regular basis, and one note I intercepted listed reasons why I was more flamingly gay than a rainbow. Apparently I was gay because I talked funny, tried to do well in class, and was skinny and ugly. I was a scrawny kid, no matter how many times I tried to toughen up. I even begged my mum for a bench press set for Christmas, but she had laughed and asked why a nine year-old boy needed muscles. I angrily went to my room and lifted my textbooks for an hour after that. One night, I stared at my reflection in the bathroom and tried to pluck out my admittedly abnormally sized eyebrows with Mum's tweezers. I lied to her when she came to tuck me into bed and said that the irritated skin around my eyebrows were a result of me accidentally falling down during recess.
A sigh
"TAG wasn't fun anymore since Antonio was there, and he acted like he was still my friend whenever the TAG teacher was paying attention. As soon as her back was turned, he would grab my pencil case and pelt me with bits of my own eraser. Timo and Matilda remained friendly to me, however; and Eduard offered to remove the hate pages on Facebook for me, I suppose, by hacking into the site. Kiku gave me a paper crane, which was nice of him, I guess. I think Francis and his group had picked on them all at some point or another, but at that moment, I had felt alone and angry. I rejected their gestures and stewed in the back of the classroom. I wanted very desperately to be accepted by my fellow classmates, but I gave up on talking to my fellow classmates for fear that they'd just ignore me. Mum heard me crying myself to sleep one night, and I told her that I was being bullied at school. She told me that a gentleman doesn't lose sight of his morals and that I should just ignore them. I honestly tried to not let Antonio's fake smiles and Francis's whispered taunts bother me, but whenever the other kids picked me last for games and looked at me before giggling and whispering to each other, Mum's words of 'keep calm and carry on' vanished from my mind as I imagined the worst. She called Francis's father, who's a lawyer once, but he scoffed at the very idea that his son was a bully. I was too sensitive, he said, and Francis was just playing. The calls my mother made to the school ended similarly. No, ma'am, the teachers always stopped every instance of bullying, and boys would be boys. I lied to my mother, saying that Francis stopped after a week or so because even I could see as a nine year-old that adults could do nothing for me.
"One day, my teacher lectured the entire class that we should play nicer with each other, prompted, I believe, by the school administrators who were called by my mother. He left the topic alone after that, and my classmates chorused their understanding while trying to cross their fingers and toes to protect them from 'Arthur germs.' I was getting tired of the entire situation, so when the TAG teacher finally noticed the pile of eraser crumbs slowly growing underneath my desk and asked me if I was alright after class, I snapped at her and told her to, 'Shut the hell up. You don't know anything.' She gave me this sad look, like she was disappointed in me, and wrote up a minor infraction report on me. I took the report, shoved it into my backpack, and realized that I felt ashamed, yes, but also a teensy bit good. It felt good to not always be cowed by authority. Francis and his group might as well have as much power as the incompetent teachers. I then returned to class to line up for lunch. Francis was always first in the lunch line, a law that stretched back from the very beginning of first grade, and decided that today, I was going to be first. I stepped in front of him, feeling the stares of everyone in the class. Francis elbowed me in the back a few times before I turned around and said loudly, 'Stop touching me. What's your problem?'
"He seemed kind of shocked, like he was just expecting me to meekly walk to take my place in the very back of the line. I took it as a sign to continue. 'What, got some Arthur germs now?' I could see the rest of the line shrinking away from Francis and crossing their fingers as soon as I mentioned my affliction. 'Better pass it on quick, Francis.' The teacher shushed us at that moment, and we marched out of the classroom to the cafeteria. I realized, thinking from my place in the front of the line, that I could beat Francis at his game. I was nine years old. I didn't realize how dangerous of a 'game' I was playing and exactly how quickly I could lose my humanity. Looking back, I realize that my own actions were much more vindictive than what Francis and his group had done to me, and I sincerely apologize for the anguish that I have caused…
Clears throat
"Ah, do you mind if I take a break now? I'm rather thirsty."
Fumbling with the recording equipment before microphone is turned off
End Part I
Quick Explanation: So Arthur's in his senior year of high school. He was a bully for part of elementary school, middle school, and most of high school. He stopped for reasons that won't be disclosed right now, but he's right now recording his story for a foundation that I made up but is probably real to help people understand why he turned to bullying after being bullied as a kid in elementary school.
Character Names: Anri is Belgium, Eliza is Hungary (short for Elizaveta), Elise is Liechtenstein, Timo is Finland, Mei is Taiwan, Matilda is fem!Canada. She wears bottle-cap glasses until seventh grade (because I say so muahaha), Francis is France, Arthur is England (I hope you knew that at least), Gilbert is Prussia, Antonio is Spain, Eduard is Estonia, Kiku is Japan, random unnamed teachers are unnamed teachers
Sorry for the weird "" '' I kept forgetting that this is an entire verbal transcript, so I used the wrong punctuation sometimes.
I read a book called "The Bully Society" which focused a lot on bullying among boys. Most of my writing comes from that and my own experiences with bullying.
At any rate, this is a part of my AU that I've been thinking about for a while. Since the AU focuses a lot on Toris (Lithuania), Natalya (Belarus), Feliks (Poland), and Eliza (Hungary), I wanted to write something for some of the other characters' backstories. (Btw, Ivan is not evil in my AU! /cheers) I don't really know why I picked Arthur. I really don't. He has the most in-depth backstory, and he is just a minor character… /sob Maybe I'll change his role in the main story. He's not even my favorite character. I just thought of the British Empire and how Great Britain wasn't exactly a great country to the world, and poof, he's a bully. Then I thought about why would he become a bully, etc. Also don't hate Francis. Okay, hate him, but hate everyone equally. I have this weird love for grey-on-grey morality stories, so there isn't a clear cut 'this person is evil.'
I'm sorry for Spain fans out there. I love Spain, I really do. He's an adorable character, and I felt terrible for making him a bully, too. He's kind of on a different level than Francis and Gilbert are, I guess. He's more of a manipulative, backstabbing type bully, whereas Gilbert's more of the physical abuse and brash type. Francis does both, I guess. He's the charismatic one who comes up with the best ideas though, and he's a good liar.
I really don't know what time period it is, considering that Facebook only became popular maybe five or six years ago. Just pretend it all works out.
Comments? Suggestions? Hate it? Love it? Feel free to review even as a guest.
