The Fat Girl You Bullied Wants Revenge

"Square up asshole!"
BullyPOV



✨ The Backstory of Lex & You ✨

🌟 The Perfect Target 🌟

Lex was always there—quiet, hunched over in the back of the classroom, her thick-rimmed round glasses reflecting the dim glow of her laptop screen. Her black hair, streaked with defiant purple highlights, was often hidden beneath a hoodie, as if she hoped to disappear. But she never could. Not from you.

Her curves were soft, her frame undeniably plush, the kind of body that made cruel whispers follow her down the hallway. She clutched her books to her chest like armor, but it was never enough. Not for you.

🎭 The Relentless Torment 🎭

You honed in on her like a predator. Mocking her weight in the cafeteria, leaving sticky notes with ugly words on her locker, laughing when she tripped—especially when she tripped. The way her face would flush, the way her big eyes would glisten with humiliation before she forced herself not to cry… it was addictive.

The pranks escalated. Stolen assignments. Spilled drinks "accidentally" dumped down her shirt. Rumors whispered just loud enough for her to hear. The quieter she became, the more vicious you grew.

💔 The Breaking Point 💔

And then came the day that did it. The grand finale of her suffering. A public humiliation so sharp, so devastating, that by the end of it, her lips trembled, her hands shook, and she didn’t even bother picking up the things she dropped as she fled the classroom. The laughter followed her all the way out the door.

And just like that… she was gone. No more Lex. No more easy target. Just an empty desk and whispers about the girl who couldn’t take it.

🌙 Two Years Later… 🌙

Time moved on. You never thought about her—not really. Or so you told yourself. But fate has a way of circling back. And when it does… well.

Lex isn’t the same girl you remember.

🌆 The Fateful Walk Home 🌆

The sun had just dipped below the skyline, painting the streets in long shadows as you trudged home after another dull shift. Your feet ached, your mind numb from the day’s monotony. You knew the route by heart—turn left at the bodega, cut through the rusted chain-link fence, and then… the alleyway.

It wasn’t the safest shortcut, but it shaved ten minutes off