When I wrote Getting What I Deserve, I wanted to explore something more than the typical bullying story. I wanted to show what it feels like when harassment becomes a routine—something you anticipate, fear, and internalize. That’s how Charlie Day was born.
Charlie Day isn’t just a plot point in the book. It’s a name for something real: a ritualized kind of bullying where cruelty becomes a weekly tradition. It’s terrifying, humiliating, and sadly, not that far removed from what many kids experience in real life.
🎯 What Charlie Day Really Means
In the story, Charlie is relentlessly targeted by Mark, a boy who starts out as a casual school acquaintance but turns into something far worse. At one point, Mark decides that Fridays should be “Charlie Day”—a time when people were encouraged to mock, torment, or attack Charlie, all under the guise of a joke. The rest of the week? He’s left alone. But on Fridays, he’s hunted.
I didn’t create this concept to shock readers. I created it because I know that when bullying is left unchecked, it doesn’t just grow. It organizes.
🔍 When Fiction Mirrors Reality
Charlie Day might be fictional, but it’s a reflection of what happens far too often in schools:
- Bullying as a group sport – where peers join in or cheer from the sidelines.
- Victim-blaming – where the person being bullied is made to feel like it’s their fault.
- Emotional manipulation – where abusers pretend they’re “just kidding.”
- Learned silence – where victims stop reaching out because nothing ever changes.
I can’t tell you how many readers have told me, “I went through something like this.” And that’s exactly why I wrote it.
⚠️ Why Charlie Day Is So Dangerous
What makes Charlie Day so disturbing isn’t just the cruelty—it’s the routine.
By turning bullying into a predictable weekly event, it becomes normalized. Charlie starts believing he deserves it. He stops asking for help. He even convinces himself it’s his fault.
That kind of internalized pain is hard to undo. It’s not just about bruises or rumors—it’s about identity, self-worth, and survival.
In third or fourth grade, I recall a group of kids constantly calling me by an unwanted nickname. For a time, it became so prevalent that our teacher perceived it as acceptable and used it, too. I still recall her looking at me, seeing my shock, and her sudden realization that I didn't like it at all. She never used that name again, but as minor as it seems, I remember that moment to this day.Â
đź’¬ What I Hope Parents, Teachers, and Students Take Away
If there’s one message I hope Getting What I Deserve drives home, it’s this:
Bullying doesn’t need to be obvious to be devastating.
That’s why I wrote this book. To shine a light on what kids often won’t say out loud. I want parents to ask the uncomfortable questions. I want teachers to notice the quiet kids sitting alone. And I want other Charlies out there to know they’re not weak—and they’re not alone.
🔦 Let’s Make Room for Stories That Matter
If you're a teacher, parent, counselor, or student yourself, I hope you’ll use Charlie’s story as a conversation starter.
I’ve seen how powerful it can be when young readers recognize themselves in the story—not just as the victim, but sometimes as the bystander, or even the bully. That recognition is where real change begins.
Thanks for reading. If Charlie’s story resonates with you—or reminds you of someone you know—I hope you’ll share it. Let’s keep talking. That’s how things change.
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