Don’t Blame It to My Mother

The boy laid in the hospital bed, severely injured and bruised. His eyes were closed, you can’t tell if he’s asleep or dead. But the slight movement of his chest give a glimpse of hope that he is OK and alive. Or at least that is what his parents want to believe.

The hit on his face left a mark, damaging the beautiful face his parents always brag to their friends to.

The witnesses said that the girl did that. The girl hit the boy with a broomstick, threw his face with rocks, punched, kicked, probably any form of violence we could ever think of.

The boy did not stand still, though.

The girl had several bruises on her face, her body as well. But she did not give up.

She fought. The only form of self defense she know, just to show that the boy was messing with the wrong person.


“I need to have your parents phone number.”

She sat there in silence.

“We need to talk to your parents.”

She smirked.

“His parents want to talk to your parents as well.”

She looked the teacher in the eye.

“So what? So that you can preach my ‘parents’ about how to teach their kids?” She smirked. “So that you can blame them for raising a kid like me, who constantly in trouble with other kids?”

The teacher stood in silence.

“Don’t even think about that,” She chuckled. “Have you talked to his parents? What did you say to them?”

“They were really upset about what happened to their son — But they wanted to settle that down with your family first. They could’ve called the cops…”

“No. What did YOU say to THEM?”

“That I will talk to you.”

“That’s nonsense. You did not ask what the boy did that makes me go berserk towards him. You know, I am not crazy. I am not the smartest kid here, but my brain works fine. I don’t punch people with no reason… Unlike him. He picked on me. He threw my lunch. He called me names. For what reason? Just because I was weak, or i was less fortunate than his family?

Don’t even think about talking to my ‘parents’. There are no parents – there is just MOTHER. A mother who works hard to make ends meet, She has no time for that fuss. If you want to blame the punching, blame it on me, not my mother. If you want to blame about how a parent teaches their kid, blame it on his parents. For God’s sake, his father is a CEO who can afford his family a good house and car. His mother is a housewife — now tell me who is more responsible for teaching their kids?”



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