Scarred for life - A true story, not for sensitive readers

Many years ago, there was a little boy in my class named *Timmy. He was a new learner in the school and didn't live with his parents as he was placed in a foster home with his little sister. From day one, I could see that this was a very disturbed 12 year old boy. It was already his third year in Grade 4 and I was curious to know why. He wasn't a bad child. Through conversations with him, I noticed that he was actually very bright - it was as if the Timmy on paper didn't match the Timmy in person. He was, however, not very good at reading and writing.

One day, I noticed scars on the bottom of his hand. It bothered me because I could see that it wasn't normal scarring and it then hit me that it was the first time that I ever saw his hand (or hands). I knew there must be a reason behind the fact that his hands are always hidden in his pockets and why he is no good at writing. Of course, I didn't want to ask him directly as I didn't want to put him on the spot. Snooping around is what I do best, so that's exactly what I did!

Horrified, I walked out of the office after having a chat to the school's social worker. How could a person do that to another person? To a child??? I felt so sad for this boy and what he has been through and it was as if a light switched on in my brain. Everything just made sense!

Apparently, he lived with his mother and his little sister. The mother couldn't keep a job and relied on her new boyfriend to keep a roof over their heads. He was a drunk who abused the two children whenever he could. The mother seemed to have looked the other way as she was too afraid to confront him and didn't want to risk being kicked out on the streets.

Timmy's little sister, *Tammy, had to cover the areas where her mother seemed to have lacked in performance, unfortunately. She had been molested so many times that to her, it was a normal way of life. Timmy had to take the punch for every little thing that was wrong. Whenever his toys lay around the house, or the garden wasn't cleaned, the mother's boyfriend burned Timmy's hands on a hot stove. Not once...every time!

Source

Whenever that happened, Timmy was kept away from school so that nobody would see. That's why he fell behind with schoolwork and had to repeat the year over and over again. His hands were also so sensitive that it was very painful for him to write, until he eventually stopped writing and pretty much doing anything with his hands, altogether. He didn't care about school anymore and never even bothered to write his name on a test, or anything at all.

Thanks to worried neighbors who called social services one day, the children was removed from their mother's care and put in place of safety. What happened to the parents, I don't know. Both Timmy and Tammy was moved around from foster home to foster home, and they weren't in our school for very long.

Before Timmy left, he had grown on me and I tried to help him wherever I could without letting him know that I was aware of the situation. Instead of having him write a test, I would read it to him and write the answers in myself. His answers weren't all correct, but they weren't all incorrect either. He had the potential to succeed and just needed someone to show him some love.

I cried the day he came to say goodbye. Timmy was unforgettable and he must be over 18 years of age by now. I didn't know Tammy at all but I often wonder about Timmy and how life turned out for the both of them. Hopefully, the two of them were able to succeed and I'd like to think that they've turned out okay-ish in the end, but I guess we'll never know.

* The names of the children have been changed.

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