"Don't cry, baby, don't cry!"
The class room howled in his embarrassment. The boy looked up to see who his tormentor was, while holding back a flood of tears. He opened his mouth but nothing poured out. His tormentor continued reeking havoc on him will the rest of the class chimed in insults at frequent intervals. The boy slowly turned his head toward our teacher. Our teacher happened to conveniently be ignoring the whole situation, and was busying herself with useless and time consuming tasks. The boy glanced one last fleeting look at anyone who might help, before gently laying his head down on his arms in defeat. I remained solemn in my chair, disinterested in lending him a hand with his affairs. Later his helpless image seemed to have tainted the rest of my day
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