I remember my High School days, my fellow students were brutal. Some of them grew out of being brutes, but from what I saw at the class re-union several years ago, I think some of them are still thugs. I was verbally abused as a student, all through school. Later it went past taunts to random gropings, sexual innuendo, and outright threats to seriously harm/kill me. I've been Dakota. I didn't fight as much as he did, I was...sneakier about trying to combat it.
I found the teachers who could see it for what it was, and in class I'd walk up with my book and notebook to "ask a question". But what everyone else in the class didn't know was I'd written the teacher a note telling them to pretend that I was asking about the assignment, then going on to explain how so-and-so was trying to cut my purse strap with his pen-knife, and to watch for it. This particular teacher would gladly then look to catch them at it.
A few times it did come to fisticuffs, once I used elbow blows (sharp, sweeping moves throwing all my weight into the blow) to knock the fellow down and was about to send all my weight onto his groin and proceed to make ground meat out of his face, when other students words stopped me and all the anger drained out of me. (They said "It wasn't him, it was <girl's name> that pushed you!" He was the closest to me, and he was a tormentor of mine, sexually, and he was smirking at me like he'd done it.) It was Choir practice on the stage/risers, the teacher was called to the office or something, and I was standing on the stagelight cover. Someone came up behind me and *PUSHED* me hard. I flew off the stage, and by a matter of inches was saved from serious injury or death. A few inches to the left and I'd have fallen down in-between the risers and the stage, hitting the back of my head (the part where it is easy to die if you get hit there) on the metal/concrete stage apron. Had I not managed to catch myself and land on my feet, I'd have fallen down the risers to the concrete floor and probably at least broken an ankle. An *advertiser censored*-whupping was called for I think. ETA2: The teacher came back, and I confessed to what happened. I don't know if he reported it or not, but he did have a talk with people.
In Art class my Junior year, my projects always seemed to go missing, or things like moustaches would appear on my paintings. I got beaten black and blue daily with metal meter sticks, and had a student threaten to feed my hair into the pug mill "so my face would look better". A pug mill is basically a meat grinder type device for processing clay. That would very probably have been fatal. I didn't dare bend over the clay barrel if it was mostly empty without tipping the barrel and watching where the Jocks were. I ended up fighting that particular Jock the next year, (who threatened to put my hair in the pug mill) but I was pushed to the absolute breaking point. That was fights on the school ground, for which I wasn't punished, because they found I was defending myself.
ETA: The art teacher that year favored jocks, and didn't like me much and it showed. He "never saw" when I was getting beaten. I mean just that, I'd go to him to tell him I was being beaten, and he'd look me in the eye while smirking and say "I didn't see anything." The principal was rather ineffectual, and his methods of dealing with the bullying just earned more sly, behind the back paybacks later. Oh, and the schoolboard liked money. "Telling" to anyone above a sympathetic teacher didn't help. But the teachers did go to bat for me, and saw to it that I didn't get punished for fighting when I finally did snap. I would never have done a Columbine situation though. That wasn't in me to do. Would I have kicked them if they were laying on the ground after being hit in the 'nads? Maybe, some of them. But not in the head, probably in the crotch again, or somewhere like some of the tender spots on the backside/hip area where they might be limping for a while. ETA: The art teacher my Senior Year went to the office herself and went to bat for me. She said "I am going to make sure they don't suspend you for this, if they try I will quit!" This was when I finally snapped and went into combat mode on the Jock who had threatened to essentially kill me/scalp me the previous year.