Victimized

People don’t realize, don’t fathom, don’t see the tiniest things in life. Your wife curled her hair, you ask, “Did the Jets win?” Your mom made cookies, you ask, “Who?” Your child gets bullied into crying extension, you say, “So? It’s just a phase.”

When someone gets bullied, it scars the veneer of confidence he or she had going for them. It happens once, the child forgets. It happens twice, the child wonders. It happens a third time, the child knows. The child acknowledges the hurt and pain and relinquish. It is role played out, every cliche as vulnerable as the next:

The child goes to a teacher, in need of dire help. The teacher addresses the behaviour to the student, said so,  Bully. The bully is strongly advised, no forced, to apologize to his or her victim. The bullying ceases. For a week. The teacher smiles smugly, receives “Teacher Of The Year” for controlling anger, and end of discussion. For a week.

When a child asks you to help them, please DO NOT disregard them. Children are so much smarter than parents, guardians, adult(in general) presume them to be. And spelling out Mary needs to go to s-l-e-e-p because she has s-c-h-o-o-l tomorrow only works for children under three. When a thirteen year old wants to have you as a literary agent because she just wrote a book(that she started when she was TEN), do not say no just because you are apprehensive about her age. If a kid comes knocking on your door to let them in, open the stupid door. Now, I use that as a metaphor. No kid’s going to come knocking on your door for homemade cookies everyday(That’s what Wal-Mart’s for), but I bet there’s hundreds of kids that have suiciderun through their heads when no one turns to look after them. It’s sort of sad and pathetic how little some people do. Sitting at home watching TV while an immigrant worker pours bag out of bag of fertilizer on your lawn, and your SUV tans in the parking lot does absolutely no help. Maybe if you opened your eyes every once in a while, you’d see that your little boy hasn’t come out of his room for three days now. Maybe if you opened your eyes every once in a while, you see the blink on the answering machine from your son’s school asking why he has been absent for so long. Maybe if you opened your eyes every once in a while, you’d see the flies gathering by his closed door. Maybe if you opened your eyes every once in a while, you’d realize something was wrong.

It’s carelessness that gets us all in trouble. It’s lack of integrity. But what about for the people who listen to every story someone has to say? To those people, a cheer. If it weren’t for you, this world would go down the drain like a kid who just thrust a handful of pills down his. He doesn’t need to know what would’ve happened if those had gone through his body rather than through the sewage.

He doesn’t.