I have severe bipolar disorder and need to take medication constantly to keep it under control. On the bus ride home, I encountered a creepy old man who kept rubbing his crotch against my backside. I hadn’t taken my medication for two days and was afraid I might lose control if provoked, so I used my backpack as a barrier between us. Seeing he couldn’t take advantage anymore, he started shouting loudly that I was being inconsiderate by using my backpack to take up his seat space. He even grabbed my backpack and threw it far away. But that backpack contained my medication – my sedatives! He had no idea he’d just thrown away his own lifeline. 0I have severe bipolar disorder – a mental illness that causes extreme mood swings between depression and mania. I’ve been taking medication to control it, but I can’t stop the meds. I had just picked up my prescription from the hospital today. That doctor is so annoying – every time he talks, I want to sew his mouth shut so he can never speak again. I hadn’t taken my medication for two days. Of course, I didn’t take it today either. I hate the hospital and didn’t want to stay there a minute longer than necessary. The noise on the bus was grating on my nerves. The irritation inside me felt like a wild beast, ready to explode at any moment. Just then, a balding man got on and sat next to me, constantly pressing against me. This guy was truly ugly and fat. His big round face was rougher than a shoe sole. I wanted to take a knife and slice off the fat from his face to feed to dogs! How could someone be so shameless? He was already taking up two seats with his size, yet he kept squeezing closer to me. I really wanted to slap him with a shoe. Damn it, at his age, how could he be so shameless? He reeked of sweat. The people nearby had already moved far away when he first got on. When he squeezed over again, I finally couldn’t hold back: “Can you move over? You’re crushing me!” You old bastard, if the hospital wasn’t currently evaluating my mental state, I would’ve thrown you out the window already. I shoved my backpack roughly between us and rolled my eyes. What a piece of trash, truly more shameless with age! “Young lady, this is a public space, not your home. You can’t use your backpack to take up space. I’ll sit however I want, it’s none of your business,” he said, giving me a challenging side-eye. He shook his smelly bare feet. The people around were already fed up with him. Seeing the conflict arise, they immediately called over the bus attendant. The attendant held his breath against the sour stench and came over to remind him to be considerate of others. “I paid for my ticket. I didn’t pay for you to boss me around,” the old man said arrogantly. “Young people these days have no respect for their elders,” he added. “Sir, this is a public space. Your behavior is disturbing other passengers,” the attendant said helplessly. “I must also warn you, it’s best not to provoke this young lady,” the attendant cautioned him. “I’ll do what I want! What are you going to do about it?” he retorted, going back to shaking his leg and picking his nose. Suddenly he flicked a big booger from his nose towards the attendant. Although it didn’t hit the attendant, it was disgusting enough. The attendant wrinkled his brow tightly and covered his mouth, looking like he might throw up at any moment. “What are you looking at? I’ll really throw it on you next time!” the old man said brazenly. The attendant was so upset he was nearly in tears. He covered his mouth and fled. 0
Several nearby passengers couldn’t stand it anymore and started criticizing him: “This is a public space, you have no manners at all.” “At your age, bullying two young girls, have you no shame?” “We all paid for tickets. I’ve never seen someone like this before. Look, no one dares sit next to you.” “Exactly, acting like this is your own home.” The old man sneered, “Mind your own business!” “You only know how to bully an old man like me. This girl is taking up my seat with her bag, why don’t you say something about that?” he said. “It’s just a stupid bag. I’ll get rid of it for you,” he said as he grabbed my backpack and threw it far away. “What a piece of junk, trying to take up my seat.” The medication in my bag spilled out everywhere as it flew through the air. Damn it, my meds! My sedatives! This guy is really asking for it. “Oh, so many pills! Young lady, taking all this medication at your age – you didn’t just have an abortion, did you?” the old man said with a look of disdain. My anger had reached its boiling point, like a balloon about to burst. An internal struggle raged in my mind. One voice said, “Go for it! Kick him! He’s ugly and shameless.” I felt like I was about to lose control. But another voice warned, “No, no, don’t cause trouble. You won’t pass the hospital evaluation and will end up in the psych ward. Don’t be impulsive, impulsiveness is the devil.” Remembering my past experiences in the psychiatric hospital sent a chill down my spine. I shoved the old man aside and picked up my sedatives from the ground, about to open the bottle and take some. But the old man snatched the pill bottle from my hand. “Let me teach you a lesson on behalf of your parents. Young lady, you need to take better care of yourself and not do shameful things.” He was about to throw my pill bottle out the window. “You’d better look carefully at what kind of medication it is and what it’s for before you throw it. You might regret it,” I warned. “Don’t make me laugh. I’ve seen plenty of girls like you. What else could these pills be but abortion pills? I’m going to throw them out and there’s nothing you can do about it!” he said. He opened the bottle right in front of me and dumped the pills out the window. “Go ahead and try to get them back now, little girl. You’re no match for me,” he said smugly, shaking the empty bottle. My mind exploded. To hell with “impulsiveness is the devil.” You can’t blame me for this. I grabbed a frying pan from under a lady’s feet nearby and started smacking his face with it repeatedly. I’d been wanting to do this for a while. I couldn’t stand looking at his face any longer. Before he could react, I kept hitting him all over with the frying pan. For a moment, the only sounds on the bus were the clanging of the pan and the old man’s howls of pain. The other passengers came to their senses after a couple shouts but then just continued watching the show. Not a single person tried to stop me. The old man had been too despicable earlier. Even the bus attendant pretended he couldn’t squeeze through the crowd, watching anxiously from the back. The old man cried out in pain, bawling like a child despite his age. Snot and tears were everywhere – disgusting. After venting my anger, I finally felt less pent up. I put down the frying pan and started picking up the remaining pills on the floor to put back in my bag. When I picked up the empty bottle, the old man grabbed the frying pan from the ground and was about to hit me with it. I dodged it swiftly, staring at him coldly like I was looking at a dead man. He still dares to provoke me? He must have a death wish. He said in a low voice, “Think you’re tough, little girl? Come on then!” Before he could finish gloating, with a loud thud, his whole body crashed heavily to the ground like a rag doll. The frying pan in his hand fell and hit him square on the nose. A piercing shriek echoed through the bus. I shoved the empty pill bottle in his face. “Do you know what this is? It’s your lifeline.” I took out another bottle of pills from my bag and threw it at him. “Go ahead, throw it out again.” The old man clutched the pills, not daring to move an inch. “What’s wrong? Want me to open it for you?” I grabbed another bottle, opened it, and forcefully threw it at him, shouting, “Throw it! Throw it all out! Don’t leave a single pill! I’m sick of taking this damn medication anyway!” He shook his head frantically. “Not going to throw them? Then you can just swallow them all yourself.” He covered his mouth and shook his head vigorously. I picked up the pills that had fallen on the floor one by one. As I picked them up, I said, “This one is taken on an empty stomach in the morning. So bitter.” I picked up another: “This one is taken before bed at noon. Doesn’t taste good either.” I continued picking them up: “This is taken before dinner. Tsk, takes away my appetite for the meal.” I kept picking up pills as I spoke, until I had a small handful. I stood up and walked over to the old man, grabbed his chin, and shoved all the pills in my hand into his mouth. The old man’s face turned bright red, his eyes bulging. He kept pounding on his chest. “Tasty? Are they tasty?” I asked. The old man nodded frantically, no longer caring about the bitterness in his mouth. “Since you like them so much, have some more.” I was about to pick up more pills from the ground. “No more, no more. I’ll never do it again,” he pleaded, looking at me in terror. The fat on his face was contorted – he was clearly scared out of his wits. He got lucky. Although I hadn’t taken my meds in two days, I had just had a counseling session at the hospital. The doctor’s words were still echoing in my mind. I have to admit, even though the doctor was a bit long-winded, his words were effective. If this had happened on a normal day when I hadn’t taken my meds for two days, the old man might not have even been able to beg for mercy. 0
The bus attendant was afraid the situation would escalate further, so he and a few passengers restrained me. Seeing that I was held back, the old man pointed at me and shouted, “Just you wait! I’m going to sue you for assault. I’ll make sure you go to jail!” “Want to bet I’ll cripple your hand?” I walked up to him step by step and grabbed the finger he was pointing at me with. The old man howled in pain, glaring at the people around him. “Why aren’t you stopping her? She’s completely insane!” I kicked him hard in the knee. The old man cried out and immediately fell to his knees. “I hate it when people call me crazy,” I said. This time the old man didn’t dare make any more moves. I saw him take out his phone and make a call, muttering something I couldn’t hear. “Oh, calling for backup? What, did you lose the fight so now you’re calling mommy?” I taunted. I stepped forward and snatched his phone, throwing it to the ground. “You like throwing things, don’t you? Let me help you!” I said. I went up and slapped him hard across the face twice. I shoved the empty pill bottle in his face again. “Look carefully. What kind of medication is this? This is your lifeline, not mine.” I slapped him again. The old man was so angry he was trembling all over, no longer caring about being scared. “You…you just wait. You’ll see how my son deals with you when we get to the stop. I’ll make you kneel and call me grandpa!” Oh, so we’re almost at the stop and he’s got backup coming. Feeling tough now, are we? “Alright, alright. You want to fight? Bring it on! I haven’t thrown down in a long time. I’ll use you to warm up first!” Without waiting for the old man’s reaction, I went up and kicked him. You dare glare at me? That deserves a hit. Gritting your teeth like you want to eat me? That deserves a hit. Not keeping your hands to yourself? That deserves a hit. Being this ugly and daring to go out in public? That deserves a hit. And so I kept hitting him the whole way, smacking him whenever I felt like it. Suddenly the old man stood up and shouted loudly, “Over here! I’m over here!” Looks like we’ve reached the stop. 0Among the crowd, I immediately spotted the person the old man was calling for. How should I put it – his obesity was exactly like the old man’s. Like father, like son. He shoved his way roughly through the passengers in the aisle, holding a cigarette between his fingers. He pointed at me and said, “So you’re the one who beat up my dad
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