Sorrow and Violence

As the front door opened and I walked in, our family dog came running at my feet eagerly. That is really weird, he doesn't usually come to greet me. Fluffy is almost always with my brother. The term "a boy's best friend" has never been more real for my brother and Fluffy. They are almost inseparable.

I petted Fluffy and set my backpack on the floor next to the sofa. My mother's shoes were by the coat stand. She must be sleeping because no sound was heard from her bedroom except light snores and a occasional cough. I decided not to bother her, so I went upstairs as silently as I could. Light whimpers came from the direction of my brother. Sudden staggeringly painful sobs made my heart sink and my breathing speed up with panic. Although his television was turned up quite loud, his sobs were not completely disguised.

When I came into his bedroom to see what would cause him so much grief, he was on his bed weeping into his pillow. His arms and legs had a few scratches and I could see various bruises beginning to form. He also grabbed the side of his torso, bruises were sure to be there too. I gasped with shock. As soon as he saw me, he frantically sat up, grabbed tissue paper, and wiped his tears away. His face was a bit flushed. He covered his bruises with a blanket, but it was too late; I had already seen them. 

He stared at me with eyes full of sorrow he tried to hide. I ran to him and immediately started to hug him. Questions were to be asked later, the most important thing at this instant was to comfort and calm him down. We stayed like this for half an hour, me embracing while he whimpered softly into my shoulder.  He occasionally sobbed and I assured him it will be okay. 

After being offered some more Kleenex, he just simply stared. His eyes were still watery and pain-stricken.

"Who did this to you?" My voice was laced with worry. I pointed lightly to a few bruises and scratches.

"Nobody did this. I fell from the bus into the road." He dropped his gaze from mine. 

"We just spent half an hour together and you really think I will believe that? You're my brother, I care about you and this is unacceptable." I hugged him tighter. "I'm sure someone did this to you. I will not tolerate that. Tell me who it is to make this better."

"Some kids at school that I was hanging out with, kept getting pushy with me and other kids. They wanted us to pull tricks on other people and when we said no, they pushed us into trees at recess. They also kicked and pulled us around." His eyes are full of fear.

"Didn't the teacher see you? Why didn't you tell them what they did to you?" I widened my eyes.

"They made me tell them that we fell down a lot from playing soccer and that the soccer ball hit us. The teacher just told us to be more careful or he would take away our soccer ball." He sniffled and grabbed more tissue.

"You need to tell me who was being aggressive with you and those other kids. You don't deserve being treated that way, and neither do anybody else who is being bullied. It hurts me to see you be mistreated in such an atrocious form." I got up and took him to my mother so she could give him some medication for the scratches and bruises. "She can help you even more than I can." I said when he started to protest.

Bullying is a cruel form of violence. Many people don't realize kids as young as eight, nine, or ten years old are as affected as teenagers are by bullying. The child that is being bullied is affected in a number of ways. Physical and emotional wounds such as bruises, cuts, low self-esteem, and depression are at risk.

The children's family is also just as affected as the child. How can a parent or sibling bear to watch a child suffer because of another child and won't do anything to change it? My brother's life is of greater value to me than my own. As I said, another child intentionally hurting my brother is not acceptable. The grief and sorrow of my brother is heartbreaking to watch. No child should go through violence. For whatever excuse, violence is never the answer.