Hurt

This kid asked me while crying if it really is supposed to hurt that much when people step on you.
Kid’s in kindergarten and is already asking philosophical questions. He got made fun of at school and his supposedly best friend of the week didn’t stand up for him, at the contrary he might even have been a part of the committee responsible for his public humiliation.
So what exactly am I supposed to tell him? Comfort him?  Don’t worry buddy, he was mean and you didn’t deserve that, you’ll make new friends soon? Should I be realist? Kid, this is nothing compared to what it’s expecting you?
He was teary-eyed, he even had snot. He threw himself at me crying hid child heart out. For sure, it got to me. I just gently stroke his hair, talking about sweet and reassuring things. By the end of the afternoon, he was back to his normal noisy obstreperous self.
Next week, my mom was discussing with his and I caught a glimpse of their conversation.. The kid simulated illnesses because he didn’t want to go to school, not that they were bullying him but he wasn’t friends with X anymore. The mom couldn’t see how this was keeping him from attending school.
The kid was freaking terrified and traumatized. He started having night terrors, he didn’t want to sleep anymore, he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t talk. He was done for. The thin wall that broke in his mind brought back worst memories.
His father was betrayed by his best friend and business partner. The partner got the father in debt and in judicial problems. Father had to do 5 years in prison. He never made it to the second year. His father got violated again and again. But he never said or do anything because if he did, he couldn’t get out of jail sooner; he wanted so much to see his family again. He’d have to be done by 4 or 5 guys daily and the last round came with his own of deadly illnesses which included HIV. He gave it to him on purpose. Father couldn’t stand it and attempted suicide but the guard came right in time, right in time to save his life and take him to the infirmary where he was brutally abused and given a knife to defend himself. He died but took out a bunch with him. He died as a murderer. There was nothing left to clean his name anymore.
What did the kid’s best friend do that the kid didn’t report to his mother? The little crew showed him a picture of his bloody father laying on the ground, knife in hand, brutalized, pants down and surrounded by more dead people. Probably from the news. So the kid’s mind naturally brushed it, it was too cruel for him to process at the moment. But it hit him later and it would waste his life later. One day his mother wasn’t around, as his father he took a knife, and cut himself. I’m sure he didn’t expect to die from it, he was still four, he was just curious about the picture, trying to get through the pain. He was surprised to feel sleepy, to feel his consciousness fading away. For the first time since he realized what they had inflicted to him, he cried and yelled. With his bloody finger, he wrote sorry.
His mother had to be interned. And we never heard from her again, she was never discharged. She died there.
I guess there’s a limit as so much  cruelty and sadness a human person can endure.

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