From Omega Towards Alpha

      Billy lay on the ground, crumpled like a broken doll beaten bloody. With the help of his friends, Billy was pulled to his feet. Humiliated and beaten he stumbled towards me. Some unspoken dysfunctional social conditioning compelled him to offer his hand for me to shake, not just as an acknowledgment of his defeat; but also as an admittance of my rightful place above him in the envied hierarchy… and as an overture of friendship.

      To Billy, I was no longer omega, I had moved closer to the alpha position.

I refused his hand. I felt that all of this was absurd, and I wanted no part of a friendship with any person who would force me into these undesirable situations.

      I thought it was bizarre that this person in front of me, who was offering overtures of friendship, would just as happily have been crowing over my beaten and prone body, kicking me in celebration.

I stared at him, not accepting the hand, ignoring his tears and humiliation, and then I walked home as if I was moving slowly through water.

      My mother was on the lawn to meet me. She took me into the house and for the most part she was quiet. She waited for me to say something. She asked me how I was and how I felt about what had happened.

I had trouble speaking because my emotions were choking me terribly. I could tell that my mother felt a mixture of emotions, with pride and relief that her son may no longer be the helpless sissy, topping the list. Yet, I could tell she felt sadness at what I had gone through.

      She felt this because she knew that it was against my nature to be involved with hurting people. As she waited for me to respond, I tried to force the emotions down that were choking me. I failed. I started to weep uncontrollably, my harsh sobs racking my body, causing my muscles to spasm.

I felt so bleak and desolate that I had been involved in hurting another person. It didn't help that I hadn’t had a choice. I felt depressed for weeks afterwards.

      Since the fight, many of the kids began to treat me as an unsung hero, even the kids who had been petty toward me before the fight treated me this way. Even the kids that had liked me or ignored me now looked at me differently. I could tell that they went out of their way to please me. The few that were once relaxed around me and had felt empathy towards me were now tentative and suspicious.

I did not feel like a hero.