Spider-Man | Doesn't Need Help

CHAPTER 28

YEAR 2018 - January

"Peter, I'll be in my office in ten minutes."

I frowned confused, not understanding the visit of one of the caregivers.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the woman left, slamming the door behind her.

What did I do this time!?

I'm polite, I don't have any problems at school, I'm nice and I play with other kids from here...

I don't want to go there... Mrs. Rosa won't give me food again or she'll beat me, and I don't like that very much...

What I don't like most is when he hits me in the back, because then I can't sleep properly on it.

But I don't like being hungry either, then I feel very bad and my stomach hurts...

I want Mommy and Daddy so badly. I wish they were here with me. Daddy would definitely yell at those ladies and do something, and Mommy would hug me.

Without even realizing it, I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, hugging myself. I wanted so badly to hug someone, but I had no one to hug.

I got up from the floor and left the room after five minutes, going straight to Mrs. Rosa's specially prepared office.

I stood in front of the large door and knocked. As soon as I was given permission to enter, I went inside.

During the four years that I was in the orphanage, with long breaks before adoption, I visited this small room with white walls very often.

I already knew the layout of the room by heart. Immediately upon entering, there was a small white desk, on which one of the caregivers had personal belongings. To the right was a coffee machine and a cabinet with mugs, and to the left was a large white wardrobe filled with documents. In the center was a fluffy white rug, and to the left, behind the desk, a fireplace with a roaring fire.

“I’m here,” I announced, sitting down in a regular chair in front of the desk, while the red-haired woman turned slightly in her chair on the opposite side of the desk.

I sat up straight, looking straight ahead.

Rosa placed both hands on the desk, looking deeply into my eyes.

"It's about your behavior, Peter."

What is this behavior again?

"I've improved! I'm really trying to be good!" I exclaimed in my shrill, childish voice.

The woman, irritated by my outburst, rolled her eyes.

"And that's how it should be. There's just one more problem, which I've mentioned to you many times." I looked at her intensely, frowning.

I really didn't understand what her problem was anymore. I tried to adapt to everything

"You talk too much, Peter."

I straightened up slightly and my eyebrows lowered.

Do I talk too much? I loved talking, even though I was a little awkward at times. But I liked talking.

My mom always told me she loved it when I said...

I was only almost seven years old, and I desperately wanted to try to live a normal life, and even more so, I didn't want to understand everything as I unfortunately did. Instead of supporting me, the orphanage's caregiver insisted that the problem was that I wanted to be a normal child and talk.

"If it's too much, it's not true." And at that point I made another mistake.

I opposed, yet I was supposed to obey.

Once again I failed.

The redhead stood up and walked over to me, then crouched down in front of me, grabbing my jaw.

"Once again, you're breaking the rules, and you're breaking the promises you made." She squeezed my hand very tightly.

I blinked rapidly several times to clear the tears from my eyes.

"Red Bread..."

“I see my simple shushing isn’t enough.” She squeezed me even tighter, then pushed me off the chair with all her force, sending me crashing to the floor hard.

A groan of pain escaped me involuntarily, and the first tears fell from my eyes.

I suspected this was how the whole conversation would end, so why did I still feel so awful...

Because I was just an almost seven-year-old kid who wanted someone to love him.

I raised myself up slightly on my elbows so I could look at the redhead who stood in front of me.

“Get up,” she ordered, and I obediently did as she told me.

Through blurry vision, I watched as he walked over to the fireplace and then scooped up a few pieces of hot coal with a spatula.

"No. Please, ma'am! I promise I won't speak again..." I began to plead, backing away slightly.

I don't want it again! This burn stings so badly, and then the blisters start appearing...

“Please…” My voice broke as I looked into Mrs. Rosa’s blue-green eyes.

"I need to be sure your promise will be kept. And you'll remember exactly what you're promising." Without hesitation, she took a few steps toward me and tugged at my shirt.

Without much effort, she pushed me so that my back was to her. She ripped open my blue dinosaur T-shirt, and then, as she always did, she put on a thick glove.

I cried loudly, knowing that pain was about to come.

I didn't ask, because nothing would stop this woman, but I cried, though why? What good would crying do me...

I screamed, I cried, and even though I knew it was no use, I begged and pleaded as that monster pressed hot coals against my back.

The pain was excruciating. The skin on my back burned so badly, and I couldn't do anything.

I was so helpless...

Why did it have to happen to me like this... What did I do that I had to suffer now?

After a dozen or so minutes, the woman finally stopped, and I, exhausted, leaned against the pleasantly cold wall.

"Remember. Speech is silver, silence is golden."

After that incident, I shut myself away for good and didn't say a word for the next two years.