PROMPT:  By @LY  You're walking down the street and see your high school bully. All the memories of the old days flood into your mind. What will you do next? Write an inspiring story about the encounter.

It's been fifteen years since I last saw Patricia Umberslade. I hate how my heart still races just at the sight of her. She made my high school experience a living hell, and the scars on my heart run deep.

She's up ahead looking in a shop window with two other women I don't recognise.

I'm twenty feet back, so I can take my time examining my old nemesis.

Her hair still has the poufiness that only comes from back-teasing it. When she turns to talk to the woman on her far side, I see she still uses a flat barrette to hold the front upsweep in place.

We wore uniforms, so I don't know if her clothes are the same or not.

The wind carries the sound of her laugh to me. It's exactly the same. My jaw clenches to start grinding my teeth and my hands start to clench into fists to dig my nails into my palms. Just like I used to do in high school.

Breathing in through my nose like my counsellor taught me, I control the reaction. Relax the jaw, the hands, the shoulders.

How many times had I imagined this moment? How many scenarios had I run through in my head, hoping and praying for it? Envisioning and perfecting the different comebacks I could make to whatever she says.

But I've spent years working with a counsellor to heal the wounds she caused. Wounds she probably knew she caused, but had no idea how bad they were. Wounds someone probably made in her too.

Since I wouldn't wish going through what I did on anyone, even the one who did it, I invested years earning a Bachelors degree in psychology, then Masters and PhD all so I could study bullying to understand why I was her target out of all possible seven hundred students at our school. Now I work on developing programs to stop bullies and help empower their victims.

Patricia Umberslade gave me a purpose in life. A focus and direction that has helped me make a difference for so many others. I should probably thank her for that.

But I won't. I don't need to talk to her at all. I've already given her enough of my time and energy. I've learned I don't have to give her anymore.

Besides, if she's still as nasty as she was back then, I definitely don't need to bring that kind of negative energy back into my life.

Instead, I turn and cross the street. There's more than one way to get where I'm going.

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