The World According to Max

I'm Max, and yeah, some kids call me a bully. But they don't get it. They don't see the world the way I do. It's not about being mean; it's about… control.

The Locker Slam

Take yesterday, for example. Little Timmy Thompson was walking down the hall, humming some dumb song. He bumped into me. Didn't even apologize! So, yeah, I slammed his locker shut. Hard. Papers flew everywhere. He yelped. Was it nice? Maybe not. But he learned a lesson: watch where you're going. It's a tough world, and someone's gotta teach these kids how it really is.

The Lunch Table

Lunch is another prime example. That table by the window? That's my table. Always has been. New kid, Emily or something, tried to sit there. She had this… hopeful look on her face. Like she expected a welcome party. I just stared at her. Gave her the look. She got the message. Found another spot. I wasn't being mean; I was maintaining order. Someone has to. If I don't, who will?

Behind the Mask

What they don't see is that I'm not always this… tough. My grades aren't great. I'm not the star athlete. My little brother is always getting more attention because he’s “sickly.” So, yeah, maybe I push people around. But it's because I feel small. Invisible, even. When Timmy jumps, or Emily scurries away, for a second, I feel… bigger. Important. It’s a terrible feeling, really. But it’s a feeling nonetheless.

A Glimmer of Doubt

Sometimes, late at night, I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. If maybe there's another way to feel big. A better way. But then I remember Timmy humming and Emily's hopeful face, and I think, “Nah. Someone's gotta do it.” Right?