STORY OF THE DESPAIRING CHILD
Yesterday, as I did last school year, I picked up the girl K. from school and took her to speech therapy: language and psychology.
My son had to teach and couldn't do it for me. We waited a long time where the teacher normally picks up the child, but now the benches were empty. She sat next to me, constantly looking at images on her mobile phone that were grey and dark, a kind of cave in fragmented blocks of steel, showing figures plunging into caverns and depths. Not a cheerful scene like she usually watches. All grey and gloomy and disturbing. I attributed it to her situation, where she had kicked off at her mother's and only wanted to stay with her father, a big step that the other child was trying to talk her out of. Whether or not prompted by the hateful mother. I always felt that this mother did not like the child because she had an immune disorder, coupled with an underactive thyroid and type 1 diabetes. Enough to make you feel ill, although that never happened. Her mother thought she was inferior and, on several occasions when I came to pick her up, I heard her yelling and scolding her. She did not give her her medication on time.
Was it deliberate? She was never the kind of mother who showed her child warmth. She was very attached to her father and no longer wanted to live with her mother, but she was heavily manipulated by the other child to come around. Unfortunately! That was her situation now. Her mother did not answer the phone so that her father would not be informed about the absence of the speech therapist who would not be showing up. A creepy move. There I was with the child, picked up from school too early for nothing and no one. Then she got a phone call: from her mother, who casually informed her that she would come and finish the last session with her (lesson no. 2). After not informing us, the bitch!
She would then take her home, a clever trick to put the child back under her thumb. It made me resentful and when she showed up, I couldn't help but react angrily. It was an inner struggle for me to leave the child with that mother and not take her back to her father. The bitch remained malicious after the teacher picked her up. What else could I do but kick her out? But that bothered me. Leaving a child who is so tormented to the executioner!
To come to terms with what had happened, I looked for her sinister drawing in my studio, in which she had drawn, cut out and painted a monster, a human being. Her nasty, threatening mother! I decided to make a work of art out of it. Few people can imagine how tormented some children's lives at home must be. Evil spirits breed more evil individuals or destroy the lives of good children. And so evil continues to haunt this earth!
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