When I was about 9 years old, my neighbor, who was around 16 and in high school, used to bully me while I played outside. One day, she had a friend over, and they were on a swingset. In a moment of anger and frustration, I approached from behind and struck her head with a brick. The result was a scene of blood everywhere, and her mom called the police. However, due to my young age, I wasn't held accountable. Strangely, I felt a sense of pride in that moment, as her bullying ceased afterward. To this day, I can vividly recall the disturbing image of the blood puddle.