I don’t remember ever seeing a spark of joy in her eyes. But I know their color…dark brown, very deep and melancholic. And I know how HATE looks in the eyes of a ten years old child. Her name is Emily.

He laughed first, but, seeing me so touched, his tone changed into compassion. Or, maybe, that’s what I wanted to hear…”Oh, dear…I thought your school was the best in town…you know, the kind of school for fancy kids. And now you’re telling me that…THIS creature was your classmate? I’m sure you’re mistaking her for someone else. For God’s sake, Claudia! Don’t go to her! She’s coughing, you’re gonna get us all sick!

But I’m ignoring him. Someone told me long ago that charity means much more than giving food or money to the poor…it means holding their hand and looking into their eyes and…speaking words of kindness and respect…So, here I am, gently touching her hand…

-Emily?

She’s looking at me so scared and confused and I’m suddenly so embarrassed. Why, from all days, I had to wear this expensive bracelet? When she’s begging for food…

-No, Miss…I don’t know Emily. Leave me alone!

And now I’m sure it’s her…I saw this look…it still hurts…

-Please, Emily…just come with me to our…emm…to my table. I’ll buy you anything you want and something cold to drink…

She’s following me, still looking down. My offer was irresistible and the smell of food, the cold lemonade, my smile…make her relax a little.

-Well, Miss…you can thank the Social Services from me! This pizza is de-li-ci-ous! A beer would be good…Lemonade is for kiddies! Can you buy me a beer?

I’m ordering a beer, making a discreet sign to the waiter…to bring us a non-alcoholic beer. I ask her if she remembers me from our primary school. She says no so I insist…giving her names, places, any details that would help…

-Look, Miss…I was a troubled kid. My head (she’s beating her head) didn’t worked. So I got spanked every day. He used a long stick…Every day. And the kids laughed. This girl…she cried once. Then I was spanked harder…I made her cry…Phewww (she’s spitting). What was your name, again?

I’m pale and shaking but I repeat my name. I see it again. HATE. But this time I’ll say the right words!

Emily…please hear me. That day is still haunting me. We were reading our homework…a short essay about what we love the most. When I read mine, he…our teacher…

-Yes, he said he’ll frame your essay. He cried. I was happy to see him crying. I thought he’ll go easier with the rest of us…

He cried and he said that I wrote the words he was longing to hear for years. He said I’m an angel on earth. And then…

-It was my turn. I had nothing to read cause I loved nothing and no one. And no one loved me. So I knew he’ll spank me. But he was much more cruel…

He made you learn by heart my essay. For every mistake, for every missing word, you would be spanked ten times more. You tried to learn and I tried to apologize in your name. He didn’t listened…

-He spanked me really hard. I learned NOTHING of your piece of shit. And I didn’t cried. You cried. YOU. You had no right to cry! Give me that beer!

Please forgive me, Emily. I was a child too, just like you…He was wrong. No child, no matter what, no one deserves to be abused. He was…he IS the one to blame. Not you. Not me. I want to help you now, please accept…

She’s spitting the beer.

-What’s this crap? That’s not beer! Non-al-co-ho-lic! I still know how to read! Your beer is bullshit! And your apologies too! I don’t want your money, Miss! You come to me like you’re some kind of queen! Some kind of angel! Yeah, right! Do you know what I was thinking when he hit me the hardest? I was looking in your eyes…imagining…that YOU feel my pain!

I did…

She didn’t heard me. She left cursing me. I returned to my husband feeling so sad and defeated…

Go on…tell me…I was wrong to go to her…She said I had no right to cry…

“No, honey…it was just pointless. More pain? More tears? Why can’t you let it go?”

Because spanking a child is never right. It’s abuse and I was silent for too long. And I’m no angel, but I was given a Gift. A voice. And I will use it to speak the words they need to hear…

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4 thoughts on “Speak the words I need to hear!

  1. The pain in this piece is blistering…. I feel every ounce. To make amends for the wrongs of our youth – that is something that probably haunts us all, if we truly honest. Even if we were the Emily’s of this piece… Because then we would need to amend the. Hate, and likely vengeful things that ran through our minds….
    Outstanding Claudia!!! As always!! Thank you!!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank YOU for your patience and kindness and for the wonderful way you understand Emily’s story. She was, of course, a victim, but, in order to get her life back on track, she needs to start taking responsibility over her adult choices. And that’s what we’re working on!
      The story has a second part…because where there’s faith, there’s hope!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Spellbounding write up Claudia keep it up , I have never seen my teachers beating,,, not a single girl student, not even the most mischievous one, and Indian teachers are way more stricter but has lot of respect, and I think he must be an exception, beating a female student for whatever reason, spanking with a stick is not acceptable and declared as criminal offense here, Emily should report her to parents or police, and then her mental trauma can be subsidized, and must be counselled with a expert counselor.
    And must be told that she can beat her teacher by reaching the zenith of his career, by being happy and her near and dear ones should not bring her past always, making her feel uncomfortable.
    Past is a canceled cheque and tomorrow is a promissory note and today is the only cash so spent it wisely.
    Keep smiling. Aquib.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much for taking your time to read…this was my longest post so far. As for Emily…the abuse happen during 1987-1988, the social and political conditions were so different. In a communist country, with no real Child’s Care, coming from a broken home with a mother who was working 18 hours every day…these were Emily’s premises. And, unfortunately, spanking a child was…normality. These days this is called abuse and is punished by law.
      For now, Emily is undergoing rehabilitation from her alcoholism and we’re trying real hard to find her a work place and a shelter. She accepted help, that’s a huge step for her! So I feel hopeful 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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