English
Crossing the line
The boy was all over the vulnerable looking kid. If I had listened to the siren call of the chocolate biscuits that were sitting on my desk, it would have been too late by the time I opened the classroom door. I would not have had to pull the boys apart. My God, I thought one was going to claw the other to bits! I had to call the parents in of course; we can’t have that kind of behaviour on school premises. But I was a bit thrown by the parents’ reaction, they didn’t seem to want to know what had lead to the incident – they didn’t give the lad a chance to explain …
*
Humiliated- every cell of my being stained. Yet there was still something within me that wanted to forgive. “Let them be” something cries from beneath the skin, stretched tight over my body, to contain the torrents of blood exploding and convulsing from my heart. “I thought parents were meant to be supportive, not selfish bastards!” I screamed out of frustration, but the only reply was the school bell ringing shrilly, to indicate the end of a staff meeting. The voices of my parents from yesterday kept on creeping into my mind, flashbacks invading every thought, an acid drip eroding my resistance…
“Jesus, I swear if he touches you again I’m going to batter him. I’m not having him get away with what he did. That boy better stay away from you or I swear he’s going to wish he never– “
“Wait, don't leave sweetie. I know how you feel, pumpkin, but this is not the way to handle it. He has blinded you and tied your brain to his corrupt soul. Free yourself from his grip, dear, and follow the path of forgiveness. Don’t forget about the things I taught you, it isn’t fair on me. “
“Oh stop it for Christ sake! Pathetic, I didn't bring you up to become such a weakling. Why didn’t you fight back? You’re big enough!”
“Why do you always resort to violence? I’ve told you so many times that I don’t want you corrupting our boy, teaching him your evil ways to deal with situations like these.
The boy was all over the vulnerable looking kid. If I had listened to the siren call of the chocolate biscuits that were sitting on my desk, it would have been too late by the time I opened the classroom door. I would not have had to pull the boys apart. My God, I thought one was going to claw the other to bits! I had to call the parents in of course; we can’t have that kind of behaviour on school premises. But I was a bit thrown by the parents’ reaction, they didn’t seem to want to know what had lead to the incident – they didn’t give the lad a chance to explain …
*
Humiliated- every cell of my being stained. Yet there was still something within me that wanted to forgive. “Let them be” something cries from beneath the skin, stretched tight over my body, to contain the torrents of blood exploding and convulsing from my heart. “I thought parents were meant to be supportive, not selfish bastards!” I screamed out of frustration, but the only reply was the school bell ringing shrilly, to indicate the end of a staff meeting. The voices of my parents from yesterday kept on creeping into my mind, flashbacks invading every thought, an acid drip eroding my resistance…
“Jesus, I swear if he touches you again I’m going to batter him. I’m not having him get away with what he did. That boy better stay away from you or I swear he’s going to wish he never– “
“Wait, don't leave sweetie. I know how you feel, pumpkin, but this is not the way to handle it. He has blinded you and tied your brain to his corrupt soul. Free yourself from his grip, dear, and follow the path of forgiveness. Don’t forget about the things I taught you, it isn’t fair on me. “
“Oh stop it for Christ sake! Pathetic, I didn't bring you up to become such a weakling. Why didn’t you fight back? You’re big enough!”
“Why do you always resort to violence? I’ve told you so many times that I don’t want you corrupting our boy, teaching him your evil ways to deal with situations like these.