The Reason This Boy Couldn’t Sit Still Left Me Shaking (2 of 3)

When the bell rang, I stopped him before he slipped out with the others.

“Ethan, wait a second. Let’s talk.”

The room emptied, leaving just the two of us. I crouched so I could look him in the eyes.

“Tell me honestly—why the constant fidgeting? Are you bored? Are you trying to upset me?”

He flushed, his voice breaking into fragments. “No… it’s just… sitting hurts. It really hurts.”

The words knocked the air out of me. I asked him gently what he meant. Hesitant, almost trembling, he lifted his shirt. What I saw made my knees weaken. Dark marks, unmistakable, stretched across his skin.

This wasn’t a game.

“Ethan,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “Who did this to you?”

Tears welled up as he lowered his eyes. “My stepdad. He… he does it whenever I don’t listen.”

For a moment I couldn’t breathe. I forced myself to stay steady, though my hands shook. This was no longer about classroom discipline. This was about survival.

That afternoon, I went straight to the school psychologist. Together, we contacted child protection services. Silence wasn’t an option—not when a child was being hurt in the place he should have felt safest.