How good can other kids be?
How good can other kids be? – What?
In the middle of the night, my daughter woke me up and said she took her medicine.
I didn’t respond to her and asked her, “What for?” What’s wrong with you?”
I didn’t expect my daughter to cry.
She said she drank the pesticide in the kitchen.
I was so scared.
I bought the roaches, and I’ve been assured by the drug seller that it’s 5% aphids, a bug-killer.
What happens when people drink?
One.
My hands and legs were cold, but my career as a nurse would have allowed me to hold her throat in the first place.
I had to throw up a little bit, so I got my daughter to keep throwing up, and I hit 120.
I asked her, “How long has it been? I’m sorry.
She said, “A little over an hour.” I’m sorry.
It’s been over an hour.
The longer the poison is in the body, the greater the harm to the body.
I can’t save my daughter.
My daughter blinked and asked me, “Mama, can I not be saved?” I’m sorry.
I looked at my daughter and my heart broke.
She’s only 15 years old, like a flower, and life is just beginning…
My daughter obviously thought so, and she cried again.
Crying like a flood, hysterical.
Crying like I saw a little hope…
I’m a nurse. I’ve seen all kinds of pills that kill myself. I’ve been drinking them for over an hour.
It can’t be like my daughter.
I asked my daughter, “Do you have a stomach pain?” I’m sorry.
She was asked by me, and even looked at her stomach, and she shook her head, “No pain.” I’m sorry.
I’m all paralyzed on the ground.
Thank God for the fake.
In safety, I took my daughter to the hospital.
Of course it was a taxi, and I canceled 120 because 120 was too expensive.
After the blood test, it was a false alarm, nothing happened to the kid.
But the doctor suggested that the girl should wash her stomach.
I’m sick of my stomach.
Stomach washes my daughter’s memory.
When my daughter was taken to the stomach, I was alone in the hallway outside the emergency room.
People are staring at me with weird eyes.
I looked down and found out that, in a hurry, I was still wearing the garter that I was wearing while sleeping.
This dress was bought 10 years ago when my husband was still alive.
Ten years on, ten years on, and several holes in your pajamas.
There’s a hole in the chest right now.
It’s this hole, it’s amazing.
Thinking I was wearing this dress to talk to my colleague’s doctor about my daughter’s suicide.
I can’t help feeling sorry for it.
I don’t know what I’ve done wrong to be so slow by fate.
I’m a single mom.
When my husband left, my daughter was five.
In this hospital, I was a non-staff nurse, day and night, up early and dark, making a little salary, barely feeding us both.
It’s a good thing my daughter’s been very sweet since she was a child.
I don’t have to worry about it.
But today, the teacher called me and said she called the study committee.
On the phone, I just got off a line from 12 p.m. the first night to 4 p.m. the next day.
The whole man is exhausted.
I wasn’t supposed to be in the day shift, but because of the lack of staff, the nurse put me on top.
I don’t have it. I’ve got it. I’ve got it.
It’s nothing.
I’m not afraid of bitterness, I’m not afraid of tiredness, and my only hope is my daughter.
I can eat anything if my daughter is good.
So when I heard my daughter’s recent performance from the headmaster, I collapsed.
The headmaster said that my daughter’s grades had fallen so badly in recent times that today she beat people up with her hand and her glasses were broken because the inter-curricular members had touched her books.
Speaking of which, the teacher gave me a broken pair of glasses.
The cracks in the lens are very clear.
I asked my daughter, “Why hit?” I’m sorry.
And my daughter was stubborn in her head, and her eyes were filled with tears, but she refused to speak.
My daughter, I understand, can’t hit anyone, let alone for no reason.
I’m looking at a hard learner.
The kid said he was beaten, but he didn’t look like my daughter.
I instinctively thought it wasn’t that simple.
I asked the teacher, “What’s wrong with this?” I’m sorry.
The schoolmaster didn’t speak, the school council laughed first, and the grown-up laughed: “The whole class saw Li Zheng tear my glasses apart. I don’t want to pay or can’t afford to pay you $10,000. I’m sorry.
Ten grand glasses? I suspect he’s lying.
But even so, I took a breath.
He just wants me to lose money.
I can barely save $20,000 a year.
I can’t afford it.
But there’s no reason not to pay for breaking people’s things. We assured each other, “Don’t worry, Li Qun broke it, and I will pay for it.” I just wanted to get things straight. I’m sorry.
“Then just call the police. “You don’t believe what the teacher says, and you don’t believe what I say. It’s time for the police uncle to teach Li how to be a man — if a man is poor, he has to be soft and bare bones are useless. I’m sorry.
How can this kid talk like that?
I was a little angry at you: “This is not the right way to speak, and indeed our family is not rich, but I did not say that I would not pay for it.” I’m sorry.
I’m not finished yet. A sharp woman’s voice blows in her ear: “Son, are you all right, son? I’m sorry.
Immediately thereafter, a woman wearing a black sunglasses and a tight leopard dress came in like a wind.
She first examined the members of the school board from the top to the next one, making it clear that her son had not been injured by any hair.
Then she looked up to me and my daughter and stood up straight.
It was at this point that I discovered that the mother had a golden face in her neck and wrist, and that she was rich and rich.
“You hit my son? I’m sorry.
My daughter hasn’t answered yet, and she’s gonna hit my daughter.
I was so angry that I held her hand: “Why hit? I’m sorry.
I’m stronger than her, and she’s confined to me, and she’s more arrogant. I’m telling you, you’ve made me happy today, and this is over! Otherwise, I’ll make it hard for your family. How dare you hit my son without seeing his identity? I’m sorry.
She asked me how I was, to live off the evil queen of a ceremonial play.
But after all, my daughter beat up her son, so I tried to restrain myself: “My daughter broke your son’s glasses, and we’ll pay for it, and you come up here and beat him indiscriminately. Isn’t that a bully?” I’m sorry.
She asked me, “Don’t you want to fight?” I’m sorry.
I don’t know what she means yet, but she’s on the phone and she’s going to call 110: “Okay, don’t call, let’s call the police. My son’s glasses, 9,600, deliberately damaged other people’s property, is enough to keep your daughter in custody for days. I’m sorry.
I didn’t expect her to be so reasonable, and I rushed to stop her: “What are you doing?” I’m sorry.
The Queen smiled, “I’ll pay. Did I ask you to pay?” Our family has money, and it doesn’t cost you. I want your daughter in there for two days today, so she can know that there are people in this world you can’t afford! I’m sorry.
I don’t know what the Queen is. I don’t know who’s gonna give her a hard-on.
If I put my temper behind me ten years ago, I’m sure I’ll ask her: “Who are you in charge of? I’m sorry.
But now I’m just a tired middle-aged woman.
I’m already overstretched just to make me deal with life now.
I can’t imagine what I would do if she actually put my daughter in the police station.
I can’t get her out, she can’t go on to this important high school…
These questions are incomprehensible to me.
I was an incompetent mother, and reality gave me only one answer.
I was in front of the Queen, bending my body to 90 degrees, bowing to one of the highest standards of my life.
“Isn’t your child’s glasses 9,600? I’ll transfer it to you right away. I assure you, she won’t dare. I’m sorry.
The Queen is also advised by the class director that “Mother Li is not easy, she is alone with a child and is a single mother. I’m sorry.
As a single mother, the Queen looked at me with dignity and respect: “No wonder the child is so uneducated.” I’m sorry.
I’m punching.
My daughter, who hasn’t said a word, suddenly shouted, “Call the police! He took my textbooks first, and I ran into his glasses! I didn’t mean to make my mother apologize! I’m sorry.
My daughter’s words are like oil on fire.
The Queen looked at my daughter with naked eyes filled with contempt and contempt, as if my daughter was a piece of garbage that contaminated her eyes.
She looked at me, “Mother, I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m afraid your whole family isn’t that good at birth or upbringing.” I was thinking about it because it wasn’t easy for a woman to raise a child. But now I can’t forgive your daughter’s attitude, beating someone up and being straight! I’m sorry.
She turned to the headmaster: “My son can’t go to school with such dangerous people anymore. Today she just falls in glasses. If you don’t take care of it, who can afford it if she breaks my son’s eyes? It’s not that I don’t give you the honor of being a teacher. I’m sorry.
To stop her from calling the police, I made the most regrettable decision in my life.
When I raised my hand, I slapped my daughter and said to her, “Do not apologize! I’m sorry.
My daughter looked at me with her face.
In her eyes is the collapse of trust in my mother.
My heart is broken.
I feel sorry for having made my daughter realize in advance the disgusting and disgusting nature of this adult world.
But her mother was so incompetent.
Whether she or I, our lives cannot afford even a little accident.
Because we don’t have a net, we fall and we’re crushed.
“Why can’t you understand something? I sent you here to study, not to fight with your classmates. You hit someone, and you apologize. This is how I taught you.” I’m sorry.
I saw the light in my daughter’s eyes in an inch.
I took her to the board of study and asked her to apologize. I’m sorry.
My daughter suffered the wrath of God and cried and said “I’m sorry.”
The Queen was clearly dissatisfied: “You do not have to behave so hard, but you do not have to do wrong, so don’t be so sorry, don’t cry, just like our family has done. I’m sorry.
And this time, without me again, my daughter followed my example, turning herself into 90 degrees in front of the board of study, saying, “Sorry, I was wrong, I will never dare again.” I’m sorry.
The Learning Councillor laughed at my daughter’s apology and said to the Queen: “Mom, forget it, I forgive him.” I’m sorry.
The Queen touched the head of the Learning Council gently: “All right, son, forget it. I’m sorry.
I don’t know why, I think this kid’s funny.
In this moment, I smote the shoes of the school councillor with the extra light, just like my daughter’s.
And the Queen said to me, “What are you going to do with the money? I’m sorry.
I transferred to the queen.
Ninety-six hundred dollars. I worked my first half of the year to get the number. It’s just the price of a single eyeglass.
I’m sore.
The Queen took money and taught me: “I know that your family is in bad shape, and I insist that you pay for it, so that you may remember your daughter.” It’s a world where no one is poor and no one is worth it! I’m sorry.
Her words, like a whip, were so hot on our mother and daughter’s face.
Then she sprained her back.
It was only when she left that the school director kept her voice down that she had a face, that her husband was the head of the health system, that family like me, and that it was better not to mess with her.
I know what she meant by saying to my daughter that she should stop messing with her son.
She doesn’t want to suffer any more of this.
My daughter’s eyes are filled with disappointment and contempt.
On the way home, my daughter didn’t say a word to me.
I know she blames me, I can’t get justice back, I apologize to the study committee and his mother, I nod over the teacher, I beat her.
Why should I blame myself?
If I’m a useful grown-up, I’m in some kind of system…
Even if I’m just a grown-up man, with an ordinary husband, with two people making a living, without fear of precarious work, a mortgage…
I’ve had a lot of work to do with the Queen to find out why my daughter broke the members’ glasses.
But I’m really tired. I’m just struggling to cope with the present.
Just this morning I got a call from the teacher, and I just learned that I, a non-staff nurse, would have to pay the leader every month.
I was told this by a sister who changed order last year.
She told me she wanted me to be clear and I wanted to be “sure” in front of the leadership.
I’ve been laughing for over 10 years, and I’ve been forced to “go with style” and watch it get better years after I’m in the office.
No, I’m not in a position to “know.”
Because I’m a contract worker, I’m paid more than 2,000 less than a nurse.
I’ve got 4,000 a month, 1,000 mortgages, 1,000 living, 1,500 fixed savings, a few hundred left, a little personal, a little shopping for my children, and months of stress.
My $800 cell phone was used for more than four years, six months ago, and I saved more than three months and wanted to buy a red rice, so I bought a washing machine because it suddenly broke.
I can’t really get 500 bucks a month for that.
Someone else has a husband and a family. What about me?
I have nothing. My daughter still depends on me.
I’m exhausted.
There’s nothing left to worry about her spiritual world.
I know, she felt like she was suffering today.
But who can live in this world without suffering?
In particular, unfortunately born in a family like ours.
Perhaps she would have known the truth about the world sooner.
And with such secret, unsuspecting, the hearts of the grown-ups, and I did not go to comfort my daughter.
I didn’t know the kid was so angry, she came home and threw her Nike shoes in the trash.
My fire came up.
These shoes, they cost me 350, and when I tried them on, the boss said it was real, it was just a rat.
My daughter looked good and I bought it.
You know, I always wear a few dozen bucks of canvas shoes.
As a result, it took 350, less than a week, for my daughter to wear it, and today, I’m packing up, and I’m not wearing it five times.
I took my shoes out of the trash, and I couldn’t help but say, “What do you mean?” They cost me 350. You said no? Can you understand something? How much do I make a month? Do you have enough money for this? I’m sorry.
If she doesn’t talk, she’ll put her head on her fingernails.
I’m like, “I’m so sorry I bought you something so expensive. How about you? It’s easy for me to go to school as a father and a mother? I’m sorry.
And the more my daughter bowed down, the more sad I said, the more I said, “I know that you were disobedient, and you felt frustrated, and that it was someone who moved your book first, and you fought with others.” But you think you don’t, because you don’t like it, and you don’t want to suffer. I’m sorry.
Speaking of which, my daughter suddenly looked up at me and her eyes were blind.
I suddenly realized that, as an adult, I should not have taken the troubles of adults home.
At least not at this point, you’re going to throw all this shit to my daughter.
After all, she’s small.
“Mother knows it’s certainly not your fault today. But considering our situation, you’re too expensive to fight at school. There is a small conflict between my mother and my classmates, and it’s not too bad to let her go. I’m sorry.
My daughter looked up at me again, but at this moment she didn’t look blind, but she looked down on her face: “It wasn’t me who was wrong, why should I bear it?” I’m sorry.
That’s the eye, and the fire that put me down again: “Why?” Your mother is a temporary worker, and you’re born in a family like this! I blame you for your life. I’m in my belly. I’m in the hospital all day. I’m sorry.
From my daughter’s eyes, I know she doesn’t want to hear it, but my depression has reached its peak, and I have to say it all. I don’t say it, I feel like I’m suffocating. The world is crushing me. I can’t live.
I looked her in the eye: “The price you don’t want to suffer is that your mother spent $9,600 today on living expenses for six months. Li, you’re not young, you should understand something. You’re not like others. Mother can only make you this condition. I can’t make you do anything. But I tried! I tried! Mom’s really tired! I’m sorry.
My daughter may have been scared. She just bit her lips and kept quiet.
I was driven by anger, and I picked up the rag at hand, and I started to wipe the blue Nike.
The shoe gang was a little dirty, and it was only a few times, and there were several stains that I couldn’t erase, and I was getting angry.
“If you don’t appreciate these expensive shoes, don’t let me buy them for you! You can buy whatever you want! I’m sorry.
My daughter finally reacted this time, she went straight to her room and didn’t even come out for dinner.
Actually, when I said it, I regretted it.
Then, this night, my daughter took her medication.
My daughter came out of the stomach room, and when the emergency doctor told me it wasn’t a big deal, I held her first, and then raised my hand.
But when he saw her eyes, he couldn’t.
I had to crash and cry.
I hit her because she was so ignorant she didn’t know that if she died, I wouldn’t live.
I fell apart and cried because I realized that I almost lost my loved one and almost lost my reason to live in this world.
I asked her, “Why are you doing this to me?” What have I done to you? You’re going to punish me with death! I’m sorry.
And she cried, and she didn’t breathe: “I am dead, you will not be burdened.” If I die, you don’t have to nod like your grandson! I’m sorry.
In this moment, I particularly regret that I made my daughter apologize to another child at school, that I had to say that shit to her and that I had just hit her.
Frustration came and I was really a terrible mother.
I held my daughter in my arms and apologized loudly to her, and she hugged me and comforted me by saying, “It’s okay,” and she even told me, “It’s her fault.”
In late night’s emergency hall, we cried like two lunatics.
It was the middle of the night, and my daughter fell asleep, and I lay by her side for a long time, looking at my daughter.
Maybe I’m too busy to find out that my daughter has grown into a standard girl.
She’s just like when I was a kid.
I couldn’t help but reach out and touch her forehead. Who knew that my hand had just hit her head, she opened my hand and turned over.
That’s the secret I found.
I saw a suspicious chrysanthemum by the corner of the nightingale that my daughter turned over.
And when my hands were shaking, and We lifted up the pyjamas along with the blue, it was only then that I found my daughter’s back, her back, and my thighs covered with bruises.
These bruises are small and small, and I don’t even have to ask.
I’ve been in the E.R. for over two years, and these scars clearly tell me that my daughter was on the ground with her head.
Standard punch position.
I woke up my daughter and asked her what was going on.
At first, she didn’t tell the truth, and she must’ve done it herself.
Then I told her that if she didn’t tell the truth, I’d be dead. My daughter was bullied. I didn’t know why. I had no face.
That’s why my daughter told me that the study committee had been taking the lead in bullying her.
“Why are they targeting you?” Why are you so tortured? I’m sorry.
“Because of the Nike shoes. I’m sorry.
‘Cause you’re wearing the same shoes as him? I can’t imagine how a pair of shoes could have put my daughter in such a position.
“So he hit you? “I can’t believe I’m going to be beaten because I’m wearing the same shoes.
“No, the first day he only warned me, and he said, ‘My daughter bit her lips and refused to speak.
“You have to tell Mom everything. If you don’t say it, Mom doesn’t know how to fix it. “I feel sad, but I have to be as thorough as possible.
“And?” I asked.
“On the third day of the next day I didn’t wear them and he didn’t look for me again. And then I thought maybe he was laughing at me, so I wore those shoes. After all, the shoes cost more than 300, and then — — — — the girl says and she doesn’t say.
“And then he hit you?” I ask.
My daughter noded her head and cried.
My tears were too much to bear and it was still falling.
I didn’t think it would cost more than 300 to buy my daughter to be mocked and bullied.
It challenged my perception.
I don’t know what shoes to sell.
It’s like I don’t know what glasses to sell for $10,000.
Anyway, for the first time, my daughter was warned, for the second time, my daughter was beaten.
After that, my daughter was afraid to go to school in those shoes.
And yesterday, it was the third time she went to school in those shoes.
She would wear them because, on the first day, she heard the Learning Commissioner taking leave of absence from work with her teacher, saying that she would go to the city for a close-sighted examination and take a day off.
As a result, the Learning Commissioner did not go to school in the morning and went again in the afternoon.
He did not say anything but waited for my daughter at the door of the girls ‘ room and dragged her to the men ‘ s room when she came out.
There were no cameras in the toilet, and the study committee had the other two bad boys watch and punched and kicked my daughter.
The Learning Commissioner made my daughter kneel down on the floor and slam his head ten times, and promised that she would never wear those shoes again, that she would not tell anything about being beaten and that, if she did, he would push her down the five floors.
My daughter had no choice but to kneel down and make sure that she had the opportunity to escape from the toilet, but had just sat in her seat, and the study committee had chased her over tore her books, accusing her of only nine heads and leaving one.
Her daughter had instinctively tried to protect the books, and during the raid her glasses had been knocked out, which was when the school bell was ringing and the teacher came.
The study committee and the other two bad kids beat the shit out of him, not my daughter.
The members of the Learning Council are numerous and the teachers who do not know the truth have chosen to believe in the Learning Commission.
The fear of being pushed from the fifth floor down the stairs prevented my daughter from telling the truth in front of me and the teacher and from accepting that she was the perpetrator.
After all this, I cried again.
I used to think I was the only one in this house who got bullied. I didn’t think that, in a place I didn’t know, in a school that I thought was safe, my daughter was being bullied in a way that made me even more unacceptable.
At this moment, I’d like to ask God what happened to our mother and daughter in the last life.
But my daughter said this and said to me, “Mom, don’t suffer.” Actually — as long as I don’t wear those shoes, it should be okay. I don’t want to tell you about my beating. I hope it’s over. He’ll be up for the first time next year. He’ll be fine when he’s in high school. I’m sorry.
I don’t know how long I’ve been crying with my daughter. All I know is until dawn, and I’m open.
I hate myself, I hate myself for being incompetent, I hate myself for being a handyman, I hate me for trying to do something for my daughter, but I can’t immediately figure out what I do best for her.
I remember when she was born when I told myself that I would give my whole life to love her and protect her.
As a mother, I wanted to give everything to her, but I had too little.
I’m the only one left, but what happens to my daughter if I die?
In the morning I made my daughter her favorite soy eggs.
My daughter had a nice meal and said, “Mom, I know it’s hard for you, and I don’t want to cause you any trouble, so leave me alone, I can bear it.” I’m sorry.
After my daughter said so, she left.
And her back was like a mountain on her back.
It was not until today that I was told that we both look alike.
Like two dead dogs.
My husband died early, the year he died, my daughter was five.
When he was alive, he was in a big car.
At that time, he could make money, and my mother and my brother used me as a money tree and a baby with my daughter.
After he died, our mother and daughter became my mother and my brother’s burden.
I remember my husband’s first year of death, my daughter’s flesh. I didn’t have the money to buy it. I had to take my daughter home for dinner.
I worked like a maid in the kitchen for half a day, working on a large table by myself.
My daughter was squeezed to the edge of the table while eating.
And he was mocked by my brother-in-law’s daughter-in-law because he was stomping his feet to pick up a piece of chicken leg from her, saying that my daughter-in-law was not well-fed, short-minded, uneducated.
That night, I left my mother’s house with my daughter, and I vowed to live and live to show them.
All these years, I wanted to be modest and to be ashamed of my daughter.
But actually, I made my daughter live like a dog.
I can’t stop crying.
I hate my husband, I hate him for being a dead ghost when he’s young, and I leave my mother and my daughter alone.
I hate my mother, my brother, my sister-in-law, and I hate them, and I don’t love them.
But I hate myself more than I deserve.
After crying, I made a decision.
I’m her mother and it’s my duty to keep her alive like a person.
Perhaps sooner or later she will have to be a dog in society, but that’s a social problem, not an excuse for being a mother today.
I’m going to ask my daughter for justice.
Even if I die, I must.
When I got to school, security wouldn’t let me in.
Yesterday was the same security guard, and yesterday he didn’t let me in, so I called the teacher to pick me up.
But yesterday, I lost my smile and stuffed him a box of $20 cigarettes.
But I’m a bomb bag today, and whoever messes with me I’ll blow it up.
I looked at him for nothing, and I pulled my feet in.
He yelled in the back, he reached out to my neck, and I took his wrist back.
I’m a nurse, but I do heavy work all day, so I’m very strong.
That’s what I’m talking about.
I warned him, “I know where the most vulnerable place is in human beings, and I see you want to try it.” I’m sorry.
I can’t believe I scared the security guard.
Turns out it’s so simple to scare people.
I pushed him away and went straight to the campus.
This time, no one dares stop me.
I went straight into the school building, and then I went into class 2, 5, and my daughter’s class.
She was in class and she was shocked and asked why I came.
“I can’t fix things in school. I’m sorry.
I smiled at the head of the class, went straight to the study committee, took off his new glasses, and lifted him up like a chicken.
I asked him, “Did you hit my daughter yesterday? I’m sorry.
It can be seen that the Learning Commissioner has been intimidated, but he has a hard mouth and insists that he did not.
“I didn’t hit Li, I did!” They all saw it. The teacher was there. I’m sorry.
I admire his ability to open his eyes to lies.
And I laughed at him: “You’re a little suffocated in my opinion, and I can’t even admit it.” I’m sorry.
The boy hasn’t responded yet.
And We pressed him in the chair, and squeezed him in the position of his shoulder neck.
I’m a nursing student. I’m a big hand.
He’s making a pig-killing general scream.
It’s probably a massage he’ll never forget.
Actually, I don’t want to slap this kid, but I can’t.
Adult assault of a minor is a criminal offence, so I can only make him suffer in the way I can think.
At this point, he tried to struggle and the teacher tried to pull me.
I’m avoiding the class master, my men, and the boy can’t move.
And my hand gripped him in the neck, and asked him, “Did you hit Li in the toilet again?” I’m good at massages. I’m sorry.
He couldn’t take it, finally noded and admitted he had.
Maybe the pain just broke him up.
Just admit it.
I let go of his shoulder.
Who knows that this kid just got rid of me and ran to the headmaster and screamed, “Do you know that you’re in trouble now?” My dad’s the Director of Health! Your daughter is just like you, poor and stupid! What’s wrong with me? You said you were a nurse. I told you, from today on, you’re done! I’m sorry.
That’s a good boy. I haven’t done anything. He blew himself up.
He doesn’t even know I’m here for this.
I taped him.
I’m going to ask the headmaster and the class: “Do you hear me? Shouldn’t he apologize to my daughter? I’m sorry.
The students in the class are afraid to whisper.
The headmaster himself accused me of a great deal, and expelled me: “The parents of Li, whatever happened yesterday, are now in my classroom for no reason, and you are responsible for beating my students.” I’m sorry.
“What a responsible man! Yesterday, when my daughter was beaten up and you were held responsible, I came to justice for my daughter and you said no matter what the truth was yesterday! “I’ve been staring at the class director, but I’ve been lying, and she’s gone back a few steps, and she’s called the school council’s parents.
I’m sick and sick of being seen, of being a class teacher and being humbled.
It’s a strange fucking world for this little brat to bully my daughter and to make my daughter apologize. She was not responsible for the poor teacher ‘ s poor supervision of the children and for the serious lack of visibility of the violence under her nose.
I’m responsible for my daughter’s justice!
I took the phone of the shift manager and asked her, “My daughter is hurt, you know?” I’m sorry.
The schoolmaster stopped and apparently did not know about it.
I was outraged: “I sent my children to school, which brought them home with wounds, and I did not hold them accountable.” Now you’re here to get justice for my kids, and you’re telling me I’m responsible? I’m sorry.
The teacher didn’t think he was wrong at all: “If he did hit someone, it would be wrong for him, but didn’t Li do it yesterday?” It’s normal to fight between kids. You’re on the line and you’re disrupting the school order, right? I’m sorry.
It turns out that reason can still be said.
I laughed, “It’s normal to fight between kids.” That’s not what you said yesterday. Why, the same thing, because the subject of the beating is different, the difference in your eyes is so big? I’m sorry.
The teacher, speaking out of his mouth, may not understand why I have suddenly changed to someone who has always been with her.
Hopefully this will teach her a lesson and never trample on the bottom line of an honest parent.
My children are my bottom line.
I told the headmaster that it was not my bad mother who held me responsible, but my bad luck and his guardian and the school.
I’m scared of the teacher and I can’t talk anymore.
Soon after, the Queen will arrive.
Half the size of the school council, he jumped in his fucking arms and cried.
I looked at my daughter, and she was looking at me.
We both saw in each other the contempt for the members of the Learning Council.
In fact, the person who has been bullying is only a paper tiger.
Losing his mom’s shelter, he’s nothing.
I hope that this recognition will bring some courage and comfort to my daughter.
The Queen has made her precious son so easy.
Next, raise your hand and slap me.
Just like she tried to slap my daughter yesterday.
I stopped her from slapping me in the face, and I told her, “I want to hit you if I don’t move, it’s a typical symptom of bipolarity.” It’s sick, got to be cured. I’m sorry.
My words make the classroom laugh.
Well, I guess I don’t get too mixed up in class with a mom with a manic depression.
The Queen’s face rose to the liver.
If she can’t hit me, she’s asking to send me to jail.
Same as she said yesterday.
Well, I’ve been pretty rough since I broke into this classroom.
I do not know whether I am right to act with the swiftness of my hand today, nor what I will pay if I do so.
But thank you, Queen. Her trophies and stupidity do not scare me at all.
I was even ashamed to fear such a person yesterday.
Perhaps I was never afraid of outside power, but of myself.
And when I cease to think of myself as inferior, no one shall make me humble.
This woman may have a lot to rely on.
But if we step on the land of Socialist New China, can she really cover the sky?
Just like now, I’d like to ask her, is prison your house?
You fucking put me in there?
That’s what I thought.
In exchange for a happier laughter in the classroom and a more cushy look for the Queen.
The Queen is in a bad mood.
First she called 110, then she called someone who was probably her husband.
She hung up on the phone and pointed to my nose and said, “You’re done!” I’m telling you, you’re done!”
The Queen was so angry, my daughter stood by my side.
I can see she’s nervous.
I appeased my daughter and told her I knew.
I dared to come today and I’m ready to give up.
The queen called the police, I’m not afraid.
The position I was squeezing on him was painful, but it left no marks at all.
There’s nothing to see.
But the wounds on my daughter are true.
Even if the queen doesn’t call the police today, I’ll call the police.
I checked in advance that a 15-year-old child was a person with limited civil capacity and was already partly responsible under the relevant law for what he did.
This time, even if I can’t put the Prince in jail, I will at least get him out of school.
Or not.
To make a scene is to make a scene, to make a scene, to make a scene of fear.
Nobody dares to bully my daughter in this school anymore.
Soon after, the police came.
The queen pointed at me and said I hit her kid.
I argued that I didn’t hit anyone.
I’m just trying to find out what happened to my daughter.
“Maybe in the process, I got emotional, I didn’t control my hand, and I pinched him. But I really didn’t hit him. I said:
The young policewoman who took the statement looked at me.
I’m a little guilty, but I’m not avoiding her eyes.
The policewoman seemed to agree with me and said nothing.
The Queen was emotional: “What’s the matter with you? This stinking woman hit my kids and the whole class saw it. I’m sorry.
The policewoman asked the headmaster: “Do you squeeze or beat?” I’m sorry.
And the master was afraid to lie, and whispered, “It was the shoulder that was squeezed, but the peace seemed painful. I’m sorry.
I showed my daughter’s arm wound to the police officer: “My child was beaten like this for no reason, my parents were excited, I didn’t control it. I’m sorry.
My daughter’s arm was bruised and looked terrible.
The female police officers were appalled and even the headmasters had become disfigured.
And I said, “I’m here today to ask for a statement, and the parents called the police, and I’ll call the police if they don’t.” Just now, this friend of mine has admitted in front of the entire class that he hit my daughter. I’m sorry.
“Then go to the police station.” I’m sorry.
The Queen has finally changed.
The Crown Prince went to the police station to hide behind her mother. I’m not going to the police station! This woman just threatened me, I had to admit it! I’m sorry.
The Queen adjuncts: “Do you hear me? My son says he didn’t hit anyone! I’m sorry.
“They really hit me. I have proof. My daughter, who has been silent, suddenly says,
Everyone looked at her with shock.
She took out her child’s phone and put a tape.
She was clearly heard in the tape of her own crying and the sarcasm and two other boys threatening her.
“The poor man, the trash, if you don’t look at yourself, wear the same shoes as my uncle! I’m sorry.
“I’ll give you a face and wear it again and I’ll see you hit you once! I’m sorry.
“Did you say you were wearing the same shoes as your uncle? I’m sorry.
I don’t know.
I punched hard and my fingernails got deep into my hands.
I just want to destroy the world!
Kill this piece of shit!
Why would he?
Because I’m poor, my daughter will be bullied by such garbage?
I was just about to go ahead and physically destroy that junk.
A warm hand wrapped my hand.
My daughter grabbed my hand.
And she looked at the police and said, “The day they hit me, I recorded it quietly. But I couldn’t take it out. I was afraid my mom would hear me. But now I’m not afraid. I’m sorry.
I couldn’t help crying with my daughter’s voice.
“Mom, thank you. I’m sorry.
I know what she means. She thanked me for standing up for her today.
It makes me even more sad because it’s what I’m supposed to do to protect my children.
But my kid wanted to thank me for that.
While I am ashamed, I am glad that I took the right decision today.
It is to be hoped that I will remember this moment for the rest of my life and always choose to stand behind a child when it needs me.
That’s what we should do as parents.
That’s it. We went to the police station.
But what happened after that was unexpected.
The Prince’s birthday on his identity card is under 14 years of age.
Moreover, the injuries on my daughter’s body were only skin injuries and did not meet the criteria for minor injuries.
Together with the two, the female police officers regret to tell me that they can only educate each other about criticism.
I looked at the female police officer, “Did my daughter get beaten for nothing? I’m sorry.
The policewoman looked at me with sympathy.
And the Queen rose up again, and laughed: “The poor are poor, they are not beaten for nothing, and they want to extort money.” I’m sorry.
How can anyone in this world be so cheap?
And when I couldn’t help but try to teach her parents how to do it, the policewoman spoke, and she said to me, “If you want to press charges, there is a way to go through civil procedure. I’m sorry.
My eyes are bright.
The Queen’s face changed so much, she took a hard look at the policewoman: “Is there something wrong with you? What is wrong with you?” You’ve been helping her since then. Do you have anything to do with her? I’ll sue you! I’m sorry.
The policewoman was not used to the Queen’s problems: “Whatever, you can file a complaint. If you don’t, I can’t sue you for slander. I’m sorry.
The queen was choked.
The policewoman stopped talking to her and just looked at me and said, “The civil action is more problematic, but I believe the law will guarantee everyone justice. I’m sorry.
The policewoman and her words were like a timely rain, which made me feel a little numb to fairness.
I have suffered so much injustice that I have forgotten that one should have sought justice and enjoyed it.
If there is injustice, we should break it, not get used to it and condone it.
Otherwise, we are also accomplices to evil.
I looked with gratitude at the female police officer and said I would take care of it.
The Queen groaned: “Then I will wait!” But don’t blame me if I don’t remind you that a case is expensive. I’m sorry.
“Thank you for reminding me that I suddenly had another idea, and your son just said that your husband was the director of the health department. I don’t know if it’s a good title, but what do you say I send it online? I’m sorry.
The Queen has changed. I’m sorry.
Her voice is shaking and she’s terrified.
I’m in a good mood.
Chairman Mao is right. All reactionaries are paper tigers.
The first time I smiled at the Queen’s face, “I dare! I’m sorry.
The Queen’s “high weight” husband finally arrived late.
After listening to what happened, the leader focused on me and said, “She’s right. I’ve heard about it. You’re a nurse at the county hospital. We’re all in a system, we’re kids, we’re friends, we don’t know each other anymore. I love people, I’m a man of character, I’m a man of my word, don’t you see her. We’ll eat together and call your hospital director. I’m sorry.
Leadership is leadership, knowledge of the art of conversation.
His son hit my daughter, and my daughter never knew her.
His wife’s got a big mouth.
In that context, a school bullie was removed by him as a small-time misunderstanding, and he even offered to be a system with me and to meet the head of our hospital.
Potential threats are self-evident.
Unfortunately, I don’t eat that shit.
We said, “We are not the ones who speak secret words, and no one is a fool, a threat or an apology, and I understand.” I’m sorry.
The queen, who led the change of face, began to reveal it again: “Don’t be ashamed. I’m sorry.
The leader shut the Queen up and asked me, “You go to civil litigation and you pay compensation.” In my opinion, let’s make peace. It also saves the Court’s manpower. You’re not in the system, you don’t know how busy the Court is right now. Besides, we’re both in adolescence, and it’s the most sensitive time that you’ve exposed the sound of the children fighting, and you’ve said that, but isn’t it true that the beating of your children is everywhere? Children cannot be unaffected. Don’t you think?”
His words, though mostly bullshit.
But the last part of his story, which he mentioned, was my concern.
The exposure of audio, of course, can kill their family.
But it does affect my daughter.
I hesitated a little and put forward my terms: “I can’t do it without being exposed, but I need to be promised three conditions.” First, your wife bows and apologizes; second, your son also bows and apologizes to my daughter in front of his class, making sure he doesn’t dare again. Thirdly, you must move your son to school and never show up to my daughter again. Promise those three terms, we’ll talk about it later. I’m sorry.
The Queen is scolding me again.
But her leader’s husband clearly weighed the pros and cons better than her, hesitated a little and asked her to bow to me to apologize.
The Queen fell apart: “You son of a bitch, you’ll know your wife and son have been bullied by a stinking needle. What the hell is your leader doing?” I’m sorry.
The Queen’s true love broke, and she was slapped in front of everyone. Didn’t you hear me?”
This scene, so familiar.
Two days ago I apologized to the mother and son opposite my daughter in disgrace.
Windwater turns around today.
When the Queen looked at me with a gruesome look, I had to say, I was so happy.
An arm can’t shake a leg.
The Queen finally bowed to me and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
The leader’s husband finally promised me that they would move the children as soon as possible and that they would arrange for their children to apologize to my daughter.
“I hope you’re satisfied. The leader’s husband told me before he left.
I thought it was over, but my useless mother gave my daughter a late justice.
But I never thought that some people’s evils were offline.
What happens next is far more than I thought.
Perhaps because I supported my daughter at school, I clearly felt her attachment to me and the sense of parental achievement.
My daughter even told me that she thought I was two feet mad and invited me to go to the stationery market with her this weekend.
You know, these half-aged children are generally more willing to go to the stationery market with their classmates.
I’m happy and I want to go with her, but I can’t.
For these reasons, I have taken two consecutive days off, and my leadership has been very dissatisfied with me and has asked me to be on duty on the third day, saying that my colleagues in Bankori would be in trouble again.
The third day is the weekend.
Well, I’m just a non-staff nurse who takes two days off, and Corey’s going to be in trouble, and that’s not too bad for the leader.
But I was afraid to lose my job, so I got here on time.
Anyone who knows that I’ve been in contact with my colleagues and has just taken over the first patient is in trouble.
The patient was a young man in his early 20s who said he had acute gastrointestinal inflammation and needed infusion. I put a needle in him and taped him, and I thought it was over.
I didn’t expect him to turn around and scream.
It hurts! It hurts! What the fuck did you put on me? It’s not even in the veins. It’s in the flesh! I’m sorry.
The chief nurse came and the needles on the patient’s hands were crooked.
I went over it quickly in my head and asked myself that all the operations were regular.
He’s a big boy, he’s got a full and flexible vein, and I’m pretty sure I saw a needle piercing.
I can’t do anything wrong with my 10 years of business experience.
Just when I noticed something wrong, a familiar voice sounded.
“Aigoo, everybody’s looking at it. Is it a white angel or a killer?” I’m sorry.
It’s her. She’s smiling and she’s got her phone.
“Come on, young man, I’ll get it for you, and I’ll have them pay you back! I can’t believe they won’t admit it! She put her cell phone on the back of the “patient” hand, deliberately magnified the film, then put it on my face, and shot my face at close range.
Apparently, she’s the one who got the patient. She’s gonna fuck me.
I reacted.
The house was blown up in the infusion room and there was much talk, and several patients lifted their mobile phones to film me.
Soon I was dragged by the head nurse to the head office.
With me, of course, there’s the “patient” who’s been slashed by me.
“The patient” insisted that I was incompetent and stung him.
The leader asked him what he wanted to do, saying that either he was exposed to the media, that the hospital nurse had deliberately injured people, that he had taken a large amount of compensation, or that the hospital had fired me and that he was relieved.
The leader looked at me like I deserved to die.
“Why did you do this? I’m sorry.
Patients don’t talk to me and insist on having the leader choose one.
The leader gave me a choice, either to go on my own or to make an apology, to pay for it, and to pay for it.
“You have to deal with it yourself, it’s too big, it’s not good for the unit, it’s not good for you, it’s bad for you, it’s bad for you. I’m sorry.
When I didn’t say anything, I pulled out my cell phone, and I dropped a sentence saying, “How does love come to light? It’s a setup. I’m gonna call the police.”
As soon as I got out of the leadership office, I was blocked by my mother.
She shook my cell phone, “Let’s talk about it.” I’m sorry.
I know she wanted me to withdraw the charges of violence against her son.
Indignity and indignity, indignity and anger are pouring into my heart.
And We struck her cell phone, and told her, “Do not think that you used such a mean means, and I will yield.” There’s no discussion about your son! I’m sorry.
“Looks like you’re not going to get your fucking job?” A middle-aged woman with a dead husband, half a child, lost her job, so I’m afraid they’re all going to the northwest? I’ll give you a chance. You don’t have to. I’m sorry.
I’m so angry, I’m not ready to have anything to do with her, I’ve already dialed the phone.
Who knew that she had said something behind my back that made me cold and had to stop and hang up the phone.
It said, “Are you not afraid to lose your job, nor are you afraid of what will happen to your daughter on the way from school?” I’m sorry.
If, until then, I left a little sense of reason behind, I lost it completely when I heard it.
She can hire someone to hurt me, and of course she can hire someone to take care of my daughter.
I know she’s pissing me off.
It’s a shame to know she’s pissing me off, but I hit her.
I can’t allow anyone to slander my daughter for such a reason.
My daughter’s innocent little girl. I won’t let her be so disgusting.
I punched her in the face of my mother’s face, and her nose was bleeding.
I don’t care if she’s bleeding, punches and punches, and she’s a pig.
Being a pig is the price she pays, and the price I pay is the price of being detained.
But it’s funny how I met the most important person in my decade in detention.
I can only understand that this is the best arrangement that God gave me.
Seven days later, I came out of detention, with me, and there was a revenge plan that I thought about.
But first, I can’t do this without my daughter’s consent.
After the process was completed, I got my phone, and when it was turned on, the only message came from the hospital personnel department.
I was informed by the Personnel Section that, as a result of the detention, I was no longer fit to continue to serve in the unit and that they had made an informed settlement.
Seriously, that didn’t surprise me.
But in fact, I’ve been thinking about it, and even if they don’t fire me, I’ll have to resign myself.
When I walked out of detention, I saw my daughter waiting for me at the door.
The sun soars my daughter came to me and she even brought a bouquet of roses.
It’s like I’m not coming out of a disgraceful detention facility, but from somewhere.
I’m in deep shit.
If it had been before, I would have criticized her for spending money, but today, I understand that she is welcoming me to a new life that belongs to our mother and daughter.
She held me for a long time and buried her head on my shoulder, murmuring, “Mom, I miss you.” I’m sorry.
I went to the bathhouse with my kids to wash up the bad news and to talk to my daughter about my plans, and then asked her what she wanted to eat, and I asked for whatever I wanted to eat today.
She said she wanted to eat Kentucky.
I used to think it was junk food that didn’t let the kids eat, but now I nod. I hope she gets happiness and happiness from junk foods.
My daughter ate fries and I told her my plan carefully.
“Ah-ah-ah-ah, from now on, everything Mom wants to say to you is a matter of negotiation. If you’re not feeling well, Mom stops right now, never again. I’m sorry.
My daughter drank Coke and noded her head.
“I think — can you think of getting your voice properly exposed? It was hard, but I said it.
In the days of the detention facility, I have been thinking about how to be euphemistic.
As his father had said, the exposure of audio could, of course, reveal the blessed crime to the outside world, allowing it and his family to die, but again, as victims, my daughter had to face the eyes of all, at least those around her.
I am not sure whether she can withstand scrutiny from outsiders, even in bad faith.
I’m not sure if my daughter wants me to never mention it again.
So I want to listen to my daughter, and if she doesn’t want to, I’ll never have to, I’ll choose another plan. If she agrees to expose the video, then I’m going to stab it into microblogging, the All Women’s Union!
My daughter had a moment of shock for a few seconds, and for those seconds, I very much regret that this proposal was made.
But then, a few seconds later, she took a chicken wing and bit a big mouth and said, “Mom, what do you think?” Why not? What am I afraid of? The ones with the most traffic, app pop! I’m sorry.
Turns out, in the second, my daughter was speculating about my thinking, and she fully understood that I was so careful because she was not feeling well.
My daughter, she looks like a child. She’s grown up.
Instead of waiting for my fine taste, my daughter looked at two stars and asked me, “Mom, can I have another fries?” I’m sorry.
Oh, my daughter. I thought she was a child.
On the way home, I asked my daughter why she agreed to the exposure so quickly. Don’t you want anyone to look at her like that or talk about her behind her back?
She really thought about it, and she said, “But if it doesn’t come to light, won’t it be bad?” What if he goes to high school and then bullys someone else’s mother, and he doesn’t want to give a shit? I’ve only one wish now, that he be punished so that he can no longer bully! I’m sorry.
For the sake of my daughter’s wishes and justice for us, I’ve not only filed civil lawsuits but also made audio available online.
One hour, the forwarders, the scolders. The family is a rat!
What I did not realize was that more victims had come forward after the incident had come to light.
These children, without exception, are children of vulnerable families.
They are either parents who work outside, their parents who are divorced, or their families who are in bad condition.
In short, he has a strict screening standard for the selection of the target.
He only picks children who he thinks are “brained and not cared for by their parents.”
Just like I used to.
When I learned about it, my heart was obnoxious.
I recall that I passed on her stress to my daughter because she was unhappy with her life and asked her to listen, understand and understand.
My attitude is the root cause of the bullying of my daughter.
Good thing it’s not too late.
This case has been widely disseminated and fermented, and has attracted the attention of the disciplinary committee, because the blessed father is an official in our local size.
Jean-Claude’s father was suspended from duty.
His economic problems were also solved.
It turns out that the family had money because their parents had been involved in criminal activities.
His mother opened a tea shop and took bribes for his father.
Some netizens said that the tea she sold was worth tens of thousands of dollars.
The main power of the purchase is that of the father.
As a result, the two husband and wife were finally sent to the prison where she was eager to transport others into the prison and left their children in a situation of life on their own.
I wonder if she will regret it in the years to come.
If it had not been for her intent to kill me, she would have had the opportunity to continue to suffer.
However, to think about it, it may be a permanent shame for someone like her to bow to a small citizen like me.
So she will do anything to push me into the abyss.
It was just her arrogance and bigotry that ended up burying her and her family.
And I, with my first-line care skills for over a decade, have found a new and promising job.
I want to thank the distinguished man I met in the detention facility for his knowledge.
The noble man was a good-looking sister, who was detained at the same time, and in another line, he was examined and then assigned to the same room.
I went into the room, and my sister told me she broke her husband in for resisting domestic violence.
And then I asked how I got in.
Maybe she’s too good-looking, maybe for too long no one cares about me, and when she asks me, I’ll have my daughter bullied, I’ll have my mother set me up, and I’ll be lying to my daughter until she’s innocent.
In the course of the proceedings, despite my patience, tears were shed several times.
After listening to me, she asked me five words and woke me up.
She asked, “Sister, you’ve lost all your skills. Why did you have to do that? You’ve got so much experience in nursing, can’t you find a rich guy to be a good nanny? Less than $78,000 a month? I can’t. You wait for my daughter to go to high school, you go to the big city for work? I’m sorry.
Sutherton open.
That’s what I felt.
Yeah, at the hospital, I’m looking after patients, and there’s more than one person, all day and night, talking to her.
If I had a chance to find a job that only takes care of one person, I would have more time to spend with my daughter.
The new job is faster than I thought.
After a friend introduced me, I decided to take care of an old sister, who had the best family and had a car accident, who didn’t live at home, went eight to six, took a double break, went to 6,500 a month, insured himself.
Although there can be no more “formulation”, it is the best armor for a mother to be able to protect her child, because she is competent in her own right. Isn’t it?
I now look forward to seeing the world together when my daughter goes to high school and the epidemic is over.
(concluded)
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
