Some jackwipe used to bully me in junior high school until one day I popped him straight in the schnoz with a hard left jab. It left him sobbing with blood streaming down his shirt and tears streaming out of his eyes. Boo hoo hoo.
Later, other kids came up to me and told me I should not have hit the guy. Sorry, but it was way worth it and the SOB never bothered me again after that.
Another time, a few years later, when I was 17, working at a local lumber yard I was regularly bullied by a guy about 36 years old - a real sadist. One day I was working on the loading dock when the guy cam up to the dock, grabbed my legs and started pounding on my foot with a 16 ounce carpenter hammer, hard.
Just behind and beside me was a four-prong pitchfork, leaning up against the wall. Without looking I reached back, found the handle, grabbed it and sent it straight into the dude’s chest with force. It knocked him to the ground, and only then did I realize that I had not picked up the pitchfork, but a shovel instead.
The guy lived, just had the wind knocked out of him, and I avoided the legal hassle of what would have come my way had it actually been the pitchfork, which I truly intended it to be. But the guy left me alone after that. Word went around, too, and nobody messed with me.
You gotta stand up for yourself, physically if need be.
Description of the “other kids”?
Only time I had to deal with a bully in HS was when I had gym class at the same time as my little brother, and I noted a kid was bullying him. Afterwards in the lockerroom I walked up to the kid, grabbed him by the neck, slammed his back up against the locker and warned him not to eff with my brother. There were no further problems afterwards... and now, oddly, the kid’s sister is a best friend of ours.