I was bullied when I was 11. There were only about 5 kids in my class and about 10 in the class ahead of me. Most kids in both class were from a council estate and they had a recent infatuation with the Mafia and the IRA (one of the guys in the class ahead was Northern Irish). For some reason they completely decided to make up that I was English (I'm not, family history is 100% Irish as far back as we can trace) and that I had an undying allegiance to the crown and I got bullied about it a lot. Sometimes attacked. I didn't get badly hurt but it's pretty intimidating when you're a small 11 year old and all the older kids keep talking about stuff they're going to do to you.
In my class there was just me an one other guy who weren't council estate kids and the other guy was huge for his age. Also, I was quite well off and bright in a largely anti-intellectual class (I don't say that to be a snob, I was once literally called "smart" as an insult). Those kids were a bunch of dickheads who just wanted some kind of power fantasy to live out based on a stunted knowledge of movies and politics and I quite enjoy the fact that as adults, none of them ever amounted to anything because that's what I told myself at the time to help me not be affected by them.
So no, I don't want an apology, I really just prefer spiting them. Maybe that makes me a bad person but even to this day if I was to hear from my mother when I go back home that one of them had been found dead I wouldn't even feign sadness.
In my class there was just me an one other guy who weren't council estate kids and the other guy was huge for his age. Also, I was quite well off and bright in a largely anti-intellectual class (I don't say that to be a snob, I was once literally called "smart" as an insult). Those kids were a bunch of dickheads who just wanted some kind of power fantasy to live out based on a stunted knowledge of movies and politics and I quite enjoy the fact that as adults, none of them ever amounted to anything because that's what I told myself at the time to help me not be affected by them.
So no, I don't want an apology, I really just prefer spiting them. Maybe that makes me a bad person but even to this day if I was to hear from my mother when I go back home that one of them had been found dead I wouldn't even feign sadness.