Monday morning.
Maths at nine. The grey classroom is filled with voices. Happy students back to school after the weekend break. Somewhere, at the very back, a small boy is kneeling. You can’t see his tears, you can’t see his smile ‘cause there is no smile. No one recalls his name. Just call him ‘’friend’’ and he will smile and he will open his heart. He is John, a short boy, blue eyes, dark hair. Not so often the classroom heard his voice. Not so often the teacher asked him, anything, equations, grammar rules, anything. He doesn’t want to prove how great student he is, he doesn’t event want to share his dreams with you, he is struggling to speak, he is sometimes struggling to breath.
Today he is wearing a black hoodie so nobody can see his face. He has been hit for one more time. Convinced for his crime, he didn’t wake up at 07:30. He was 2 minutes late. But that happened only today. Yesterday, he watched tv at night, like all boys he likes football. His parents turned back before midnight. Both drunk, eyes full hate like a serial killer. This time his eye turned black, he didn’t care about the pain he didn’t care about his eye, he was feeling ashamed. He couldn’t appear in school with a black eye, what would the principle, the students, the teacher say? No one ever gave a dime about little John, but he did.
He is strong, he is standing alone, like the Oregon trees. He is praying for someone to talk, someone to touch his tortured soul. School is his shelter, he is feeling safe.
Days come and go, weeks and months are passing by, the little boy, John, still struggling inside. Today he didn’t show up. No one felt he is absent. No one ever felt his presence. He is lying on a cold white bed, at the central hospital. One more night like all the others passed by. This time, was lucky enough to escape death. Brain injuries, was written on the top of x-ray results.
He hates himself, he felt anger all his life, he was trapped, he couldn’t escape his hell, his jail. He just wanted a friend, he just wanted to talk.
All of a sudden, inside his classroom, a veil of guilt was covering the voices, of the students, of his teacher. Everyone was feeling ashamed, a veil of guilt covered the classroom today. Everyone was feeling guilty, the teacher, the students. They never gave the opportunity to this little boy to talk, to scream out his pain, to laugh out loud, to smile.
So, next time, you will enter your classroom, have a look at the very back, maybe little John is waiting for you.