Teacher Stories

No, I Need to Tell Them

AN - Themes of sexual assault and homelessness.

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It had been building up for weeks. There had been clues for weeks. She was always at school early and stayed late. Signs that no one had noticed. She never ate lunch, she had lost weight, school work was down a grade, and she had lost all her happiness.

On a particularly cold November morning, Sophie was sat shivering on a wall just outside the school gates.

"Soph, it's 7:15. School doesn't start for another hour and a quarter. And it's freezing out here. Come sit in my room." Miss Morris was one of the kindest teachers in the school, always looking out for people, especially Sophie, who held a soft spot in her heart.

Sophie showed a small smile, and picked up her bag, heading out to Miss Morris's demountable. The demountable was warm, and the walls were painted a creamy, yellow colour. The chairs were set up in rows, with the teachers desk parallel to the door. In between the two was the door to a large storage room.

Miss Morris set down her backpack next to her desk and pulled out one of the chairs for Sophie. "Why do you always get here so early?" She asked, hoping not to seem too pushy, but she needed to know if Sophie was safe.

Sophie simply shrugged, she was not ready to let people know about her troubles.

"Soph, I'm asking to make sure that you're safe. Cause if you're not safe, then I need to help you. OK?"

Sophie always had trouble lying. She couldn't tell anyone anything, but she also knew that she couldn't lie, because she trusted Miss Morris and Miss Morris trusted her.

"I..." But she valued her privacy over Miss Morris' trust. "I'm fine."

Miss Morris knew she was lying, she could always tell when anyone was lying; it was a superpower of hers. And some days she saw Sophie as her own daughter, but she knew that she shouldn't.

"Sophie. Please, please, please tell me." She begged. "Cause I'm really worried about you, and I know that you're not OK, so if you tell me the problem, I can help fix it."

"If I tell you what's going on, you have to report it to somebody."

The teacher smiled kindly, getting out of her chair and coming to sit on the desk next to her. "And is that so bad Soph?" The younger girl was looking at Miss Morris, debating on what to do. "I can only help if you tell me."

"My dad threw me out a couple of weeks ago." She choked out. "And I've been on the streets since."

Out of all the things that she could have said, that's not what Miss Morris was expecting. Chucked out?! Living on the streets?! She didn't know what to do. Both women didn't know what to do. Sophie was scared and needed Miss Morris to do something, and help her.

"OK. You're on the streets. Where's your stuff?"

"I paid a year ten to give me her locker, that's where I keep my stuff." Sophie explained.

Miss Morris nodded. "And where do you stay?" She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and looking over to the storage room.

"I sleep around the back of the school, there's like a little shelter with a bench in it, and I sleep there. That's why I always get here early, I go and brush my teeth, sometimes I manage to wash myself with a flannel. Just getting by, Miss."

She had so many more questions; food, clothes, why did she get thrown out? But she knew that what Sophie needed was not questions, but answers.

"OK, what I'm going to do, is give you a key to my room, and my storage cupboard, and you're going to stay in my storage cupboard for now. And in a few days, I'm going to call Social Services."