"Dad, please... please!" Eddie, age 14, shouted, his voice filled with desperation. It was the 17th time that week he had tried to get his father's attention, but as always, his dad ignored him. His mother’s dismissive words echoed in his mind, "It's your own fault. Don't annoy him."
But Eddie didn’t know what he had done wrong. Was being a child enough to anger his dad? It certainly seemed like it. His brothers, on the other hand, could get away with almost anything.
Defeated, Eddie retreated to his bedroom, sitting on the floor in confusion, fear, and sadness. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and he drifted off to sleep on his beaten mattress, a casualty of his outbursts. He hated everything about his home.
Morning came too soon. The sun pierced through his blinds, and Eddie groaned as his clock hit 7 a.m. He despised school, but it was better than being at home. At least there, he escaped his brothers, David and Ethan, who would beat him black and blue whenever they felt like it.
By 7:30 a.m., Eddie was fixing his tie, caring little for looking presentable. He spiked up his brown hair with some random gel he found in the bathroom and slipped on his old, raggedy shoes. At least one teacher had a problem with those shoes, but Eddie liked the attention, something he rarely received at home.
At 8 a.m., Eddie and his brothers hopped on the school bus. Eddie sat alone, engrossed in a book. It was far more interesting than talking with his brothers. Though he wasn’t popular, people didn’t hate him, and they certainly knew who he was. "Did you hear Eddie Lawson in Year 9 did this?" "I thought he did that." He was used to the gossip and it didn’t bother him. He had friends who never judged him for his messy look and cocky demeanor, even if it was difficult to bear sometimes.
By 9 a.m., Eddie was in his first class, English with Mr. Jackson. He wasn’t paying attention, doodling on his hand instead. English was one of his worst subjects, so he didn’t bother trying, not that he ever did.
Much to Eddie’s delight, the bell rang, signaling the next lesson: PE. He hated PE. He was in the same class as his older brothers, who would hit, kick, and tackle him, calling it ‘rough rugby’ and telling him to ‘man up.’ But today was different. Eddie didn’t even turn up to the changing rooms, let alone the lesson.
Instead, he sat in his math teacher’s classroom, staring into space. Mr. Smith didn’t mind. He was the only one who saw Eddie’s potential, who gave him a chance, and who saw through his tough exterior to the vulnerable boy underneath. But even Mr. Smith didn’t know the full extent of Eddie’s troubles; Eddie would never tell anyone.
But today was different. At 3 p.m., home time, Eddie was called into a meeting with his headteacher, Miss Lewis. She asked him what was going on, and the dam broke. His tears turned into broken sobs, his lip quivered, and his body shook. He couldn’t keep up the act any longer. He had to tell someone. So he did. He told her everything.
