Copyright © [Year 2024] [Zahier Adams]
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by S.A copyright law, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This story is a work of fiction.
Mute
Chapter 3: When does the bullying stop
“Hurry up, James!” Grace urged as we sprinted toward the bus. My mom stood at the kitchen window, her morning ritual of watching us board the bus like clockwork. The yellow bus, now faded with age, barely displayed its sign anymore.
At the bus door stood Mr. Lowkey, a chubby man with a crooked smile. His shirt was neatly tucked into his trousers, and a red cap sat atop his head. He had been our bus driver since I could remember. Rumor had it he had a severe drinking problem ever since his wife left him, leaving their three kids behind, aged twelve to seventeen. His salary went to alcohol while his kids stayed at a boarding school. His salary was spent all on booze.
Grace and I climbed aboard, taking our usual spot in the middle of the bus, surrounded by the cacophony of children’s chatter. My earmuffs offered some respite from the noise. Grace, moved to the front to sit with her friend Tracy.
Jeoy then appraoched a big boy with light skin, blondish-brown hair cut in a bob, and acne-scarred cheeks. He was popular, courtesy of his wealthy family. His father, a politician on the school board, and his mother, a criminal lawyer, ensured Joey always had the best. Today, he sported a puffy red and white jacket emblazoned with a Red Bull logo, torn stylish jeans, and red sneakers.
“Hey, look who it is – the dork!” Joey jeered, yanking my earmuffs off. “Can you hear me, mute?” He screamed into my ear. His mockery initially went unnoticed by the other kids, each absorbed in their own worlds. Jack and Clark arrived who was sitting closeby. They weren’t true friends; everyone knew they were only around Joey for his money. Both came from single-parent homes, struggling to make ends meet. Jack and Clark had been best friends since childhood, and when Jack befriended Joey, Clark tagged along.
“Hey, doofus,” Jack sneered, slapping my head. “Who bought these muffs? Your mom?”
“Leave him alone,” Grace demanded, her voice unwavering.
“Look, the mute needs his little sister to fight his battles,” Joey taunted. Just as they reached for Grace, Mrs. Jones intervened. A petite, bespectacled woman in her early forties, she wore a yellow dress adorned with daisies and matching laced heels. Despite her size, she was a force to be reckoned with, our fierce and fearless math teacher.
“Get back to your seats or you’ll all be staying for detention!” she commanded, her voice cutting through the bus. Even the most rebellious kids knew better than to cross Mrs. Jones.
“We’ll get you at school,” Joey threatened as they slunk back to their seats. I exhaled, my heart still pounding. Grace retrieved my earmuffs from the floor and gently placed them over my ears. Mrs. Jones gave Grace a nod of approval before returning to her seat, a silent acknowledgment of her bravery.
As the bus came to a halt, Mrs. Jones stood at the front, commanding the students’ attention. “We’ll do this in an orderly manner. Front row kids, stand up and disembark first. Then the next row can follow.” The children obediently followed her instructions, standing up row by row and climbing out of the bus. The moment their feet hit the ground, they scattered, racing towards the playground with joyous abandon.
Grace and her friend headed straight for their favorite spot under a large oak tree, taking advantage of the few precious minutes before the bell rang. I, on the other hand, walked slowly towards my classroom, my gaze fixed on the ground. The isolation weighed heavily on me.
Without warning, a sharp blow to my head sent me sprawling to the ground. The world around me faded to black.
When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a bright room. Shielding my eyes from the light, I saw the school nurse, Ms. Dianne, leaning over me. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with ocean-blue eyes, long black hair, and light skin. Her expression was one of deep concern as she shone a small flashlight into my eyes. “How are you feeling? Do you know where you are?”
For a moment, I was at a loss for words, captivated by her presence. “Yes, I’m with the most beautiful lady in the school,” I thought to myself. Just then, a sharp pain on the side of my head brought me back to reality. “If you know where you are, could you nod your head?” she asked gently. Hesitantly, I nodded, and she rewarded me with a smile that lit up the room.
Ms. Dianne brushed strands of hair from my forehead. “That ball really hit you hard. Joey has been suspended for kicking it at you. Your sister Grace and her friend saw the incident and reported it immediately,” she explained.
I desperately wanted to reassure her, to say, “I’m okay, don’t worry, you’re an angel,” but the words wouldn’t come out. “Anyway, we’ve informed your parents. They’re coming to take you to the hospital for a thorough check-up,” she continued, her smile gentle and comforting.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and my mom’s furious voice filled the room. “Who did this?” she demanded. “You keep allowing my child to be bullied, and all these kids get is a suspension or a day of detention?” Her anger was palpable as she demanded to see the principal. “He’s unavailable, Mrs. Dow, but Mrs. Jones will ensure these kids are punished for their actions,” Ms. Dianne responded, trying to calm her.
“No, I’m not buying that. You said that before when my son was severely beaten by these bullies, and nothing was done. I’m filing a police report against the school if I don’t hear back from the principal by two,” my mom declared with steely determination.
“I will get him to call you, ma’am. I’m deeply sorry for what happened. Other kids claimed it was an accident,” Ms. Dianne said apologetically.
“Accident? This was deliberate! You always allow this bullying to happen, and nothing gets done about it!” my mom shouted, her voice shaking with rage.
I felt a mix of shame and sympathy for Ms. Dianne. This wasn’t her fault. My mom took my hand and examined my head before kissing my forehead. Her eyes were filled with tears and anger as we exited the school and headed to the hospital.
In the car, my mom’s anger simmered just below the surface. “I can’t believe this is happening again,” she muttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I remained silent, the throbbing pain in my head a constant reminder of the incident.
At the hospital, doctors examined me thoroughly, ensuring there was no serious damage. My mom stayed by my side, her protective nature on full display. The hours passed in a blur of medical procedures and worried glances until finally, we were given the all-clear to go home.
As we drove back, my mom’s fury had not abated. “This can’t go on, James. We’re going to make sure something is done about this,” she vowed. I nodded, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief.
