Cayla's mum forgot to pick her up from school every single day.
"She'll be here any moment; I'm sure she's just driving and unable to answer her phone."
While tapping my fingers on the table, I smiled at the little girl across from me and felt sorry for her. It was just a promise. Since we had been sitting there for so long, it was getting dark outside.
The person who helped me teach had already been sent home. What good did it do for any of us to suffer?
This wasn't really a new idea. When Cayla's mom forgot she had a child, it happened all the time. Some days it was minutes, and most of the time it was hours.
It was fun to teach Cayla because she was a smart kid. I didn't understand why it looked like everything was against her.
The mean kids didn't let her join in on games or group activities. I tried to ask the class to include her in a private, kind conversation. All of them said no.
People said she was a witch.
Kids do bad things sometimes. You can really see that when you teach the small crotch bugs. They were making fun of someone weaker than them and even said she was a monster when they were only eight years old. What a mean person.
It made me feel very sad. The poor girl always had trouble getting by. As if no one wanted to be near her, she turned people away. She was like a magnet pushing itself to the wrong end of another magnet.
It's okay, Miss Bella. I know she's not coming.
She couldn't take her eyes off the desk in front of her. Nobody paid attention to her, so she didn't even try to put on her coat. Her legs moved back and forth a little below it.
"Cayla, your mum loves you, so she's coming." She has a lot to do.
It was only partly true. There were times when it didn't feel that way, and I couldn't prove beyond a logical doubt that Cayla's mom loved her. She would almost not want to pick up her child, showing up late but not upset.
Cayla was more tired than ever every time I saw her. It looked like she hadn't rested in days. She was tense, worried, and angry. I could see that she was having a hard time and needed help. It was hard for me not to judge. I watched her child every day after school because she didn't want to. How could you be so tired that you forget about your only child?
Cayla's mom would walk in and treat her like a monster, just like the other kids in the class.
I know she doesn't love me. You never want your child to say those things about their mum. She deserves to be loved and cared for.
Worst part? It didn't even seem to bother her. She was healthy.
It broke my heart. This made me think of the time I tried to report Cayla to social services. They didn't seem to care about my worries. The girl always showed up on time, ate well, and was clean. She didn't stop going to school or act sad about not having any friends.
I didn't know how to help Cayla, but I did want to. She was afraid of me, so she locked herself in her room and wouldn't come out until I was ready to take her to school. I wasn't mad at her for being late, but I had a feeling something else was going on. "Why do you think she doesn't love you?" I asked her.
She stated, "I don't know, she's just scared of me."
She told me, "Of course Ms. Bella makes dinner for me; I just have to eat it."
Cayla must live a very lonely life, I thought. All day, she doesn't have anyone to talk to, and when she gets home, it's quiet. What does Cayla mean when she says her mum is scared? Is there someone else in the room with her? She says it's the only way she feels safe. Why doesn't she keep her daughter in her room too if she feels safe there? What is wrong with her? I asked, trying to keep my interest in check.
"Because I'm there, and she's afraid of me," she answered. She believes that I am a witch and that I will hurt her. "She is afraid of me."
It took me a moment to understand what she said. It seemed odd that someone would be so scared of a cute little girl. I pondered, "Why wouldn't she feel safe with you?"
She asked, "What does she think you'll do to her?"
Cayla kept moving her legs under her desk while her face was blank. It broke my heart for her. I began to plan a lesson on bullying. She thought she was a monster because of the mean things people said and did to her at home.
"Cayla, you're not a witch," I told her. Let me know if the other kids are mean to you, and I'll tell them. "What are they calling you?" I tried not to cry. I thought teaching would be fun and satisfying, but kids like Cayla kept coming back to mind long after the bell had rung.
"Why, because I broke Sam's arm with my mind," she stated.
I was shocked by her answer. Stephanie had broken both arms when she tripped at the start of the school year. A few other students spread the idea that Cayla had used her witchcraft to do it.
They didn't come near her outside after that, even though I begged them not to. Their words made it clear that Cayla was to blame for Sam's fall. "You didn't do it, Cayla," they told her. She fell because of you.
We know you're not a witch! "Those other kids are mean!" I almost yelled, but I tried to keep my temper in check. I know it wasn't appropriate, but I shouldn't have talked about the other kids, especially how I felt about them since they were being picked on. I couldn't help but smile at her. She stopped swinging her legs and turned to face me, turning her eyes from being empty to being full. She
was amused.
The sound was like nails being dragged across a chalkboard slowly to make the pain last longer. It wasn't a child laughing; it was something bad. Like everyone else, I wanted to leave the classroom. But it had to be me. I wasn't sure if it was from her or if I was making it up. I had to stop thinking like a child because she was a kid.
The way Cayla looked changed. She scowled as she tried to figure out what I said and how it made her feel. I could tell she was thinking about whether to believe me or not, but it didn't take long.
I might have finally reached my goal. Her mom was going to be home soon, so I could tell her about my daughter. I could explain things to her.
Nicely, "There's nothing wrong with you, Ms. Bella," she told her.
I felt a quick, sharp pain in my arm. As I screamed and fell to the ground, I could feel pieces of bone snapping off of different parts of my skin. She rolled her eyes and looked down at me while she was in pain.
She got up and walked towards the door to the classroom. "She's not coming, Ms. Bella," she said. "She enjoys being a witch." This is what she did.
I thought about her mom and how scared she must have been that I hadn't paid attention to what her friends were saying. I thought she was always a victim, but I was wrong. Cayla, don't hurt me. Your mom is coming soon. I begged, "Please don't hurt me."
Her eyes were no longer blank; they were fixed on me, enjoying the fact that I knew I had done something very wrong. It felt like my heart was going to burst.
"What actions did you take?" As I gasped for air, I wondered if that tired, sad woman was still alive. If it was all a bad plan and she was still in the car.
Before leaving the room, the girl gave me one last scary smile.
"Miss Bella, she's not coming." My mum forgot to lock her door last night.
