An excerpt from the unpublished novel “I'm fine. Please take me away!” (Mom (the author of the story) talks about her childhood to her twelve-year-old son.) — We also had a fool from an orphanage in our squad. I don't remember her name. Lena? Sveta? Olya? She was bullied everywhere. She was actually kind of nasty. She lisped, stuttered, was completely stupid, you can't talk about anything. Unhappy, of course. At first she was in a different unit, but she was completely harassed there. And our teacher decided to take the fool back to us. She said, “Our girls are nice”... Our “good ones” also began to poison. “And no one interceded? — I interceded. My mom taught me that I should stand up for the weak. “When I was in first grade, my classmates bullied me. They called him fat. Well, I've told you. I remember very well how I was sitting on the floor under the blackboard and they were standing around, pointing their fingers and laughing. Our Tatyana Grigoryevna came and said: “Well, hers! Let's all go from here.” Everyone's gone. But it didn't get any easier. “Well hers!” - threw it away like a dirty rag. Mom went to school to seek the truth and stand up for me. It's important for someone to stand up for you. Especially mom. But Tatyana Grigoryevna still didn't love me. And I thought maybe there was something wrong with me because you could hate me so much? Maybe I'm actually fat? Although, to be honest, this is not a reason to hate at all. And then we changed our teacher. And her mom went to see her too. The new teacher, Zoya Nikolaevna, stopped bullying in an instant. And then this is what happened. There was a fat boy in the parallel class. Much fatter than me. Honestly, I don't remember his name anymore. And everyone started teasing him. So am I. Somehow at home, I told my mom about it almost cheerfully. Mom was terribly outraged! “Don't you remember being teased yourself? Don't you remember how bad you felt? Or are you a bad person if you hurt the weak?” I said that I'm a good person and I won't hurt the weak anymore. And I'll stand up for them. “And? Interceded? — Yes, I interceded. And she raked for it. One day, our fool came to the room and the girls locked themselves on a latch from the inside. There were 12 of us in the room. Lots. But no one wanted to open it. And she kept knocking and knocking. I felt sorry for it, so I opened it. For this harm, Marinka beat me with a broom. You know, it turns out that using a broom hurts a lot. My arms are swollen. “You can kill me with a broom,” says my son. “Well, no, I think you can't kill me.” You can if it's in your temple. “Don't make it up! After all, it's a broom, not an ax. And then our fool was transferred to an isolation ward, where patients usually lie. Although she was not ill, she was kept there for a long time so that no one would hurt her. ***PicturesMom came every weekend. Only the time from Saturday to Saturday goes on forever — a lifetime. On my parents' day, I was waiting for her at the gate. Everyone they could visit crowded there and greeted them. The counselors chased us into the squad, promised that the duty officers would call us or announce us on camp radio. But this is how long it will take for the officer on duty to reach the squad, until they find you, until they report you... It could even take half an hour! Or even more! And all this time you can be with your mom! The one you want to be with every second. The one you're waiting for, waiting for, and waiting for. Which won't last long anyway. You can't miss this moment. You can't walk away from the gate. We should carefully look at who has come and who is calling. Mom has always come. More precisely, they came together: mom and dad. Dad is driving our light green “Zaporozhets”. This Zaporozhets stood idle all year round, and only in summer did it hit the road once a week — to the camp, to visit the children. First, only to me, then to my brother and sister. This is how he lived his long good life—to bring us our parents during difficult times. Parents brought us a whole bunch of gifts. Certainly cherries, always strawberries. Both were valuable; the store rarely sold, and the queue was long. That's why we bought berries at the market; it was terribly expensive. But my mom always bought for me. I didn't eat it myself. She brought it to me. So that I don't feel so sad. Well, also because it's useful. Vitamins. Of course, she also brought chocolates, dryers, crackers, waffles and apples. “Wait, don't eat right away. Eat in the squad. Now it's the berries, or they'll go bad.” The berries are sweet, but inside, the heart feels bitter. I know they're going to leave now. I want to spend time with them. If only I could hold it with my hands! I would jump right in and hold it. But it somehow goes away by itself, it goes away... They'll stay with me for another two hours or even three hours and leave! And I'm gonna stand at the gate crying as I look after them. And other children will also stand and cry. And you don't need berries and sweets. We should not break up. Never. ***— In short, I felt bad there, in this Forest Tale. I asked my mom to pick me up several times, but she said I had to wait a little longer. That I won't have anything to do in Moscow at all, but here I will be outdoors. And that you have to be able to overcome difficulties and not give up. — And you? — What about me? I've been patient. And I didn't give up. That's how I got it to the end of the shift. But when Mishka, my brother, was young, my mother would pick him up from camp if he asked. Even a couple of days after the shift started, I started crying and my mom picked it up. “Your mom looks super wrong.” I was just first. And mom made mistakes, and on younger children, she corrected them. For example, I wasn't allowed to kiss my boyfriend in my room at home. And I was already 20 years old. “Well, your mom is completely!.. — And the rest of the children, Ola and Misha, were later allowed to do so. Well, of course, it's better to kiss at home than anywhere else. Mom knew she was wrong. But you know, about camp... I actually hardened myself there. I've decided for myself that I'll never let anyone hurt me. I was eleven years old, almost twelve years old. A little bit smaller than you are right now. But it was such a sensible, adult decision. And I've been following it all my life. Also, when I decided to become a teacher, I promised myself that I would never let my children bully anyone. Because all for one is savagery and animal. “So what? Did you break your word? — No. In one of my camps, when I was already working as a counselor, this story happened. There was a girl named Katya, who was rather unpleasant. So, you know, a little bit arrogant and unfriendly. She didn't know how to get along with girls and was boycotted. And what amazed me was that my partner, Nadya, an adult woman — her son was already 12 years old — said that let's say... That this is how some kids will help control others. It even made me feel creepy. How is it — an adult does not want to protect a child! - So what did you do? — I talked separately with Katya and the rest of the girls. I told them all my story. I told the girls how hard and painful it was for me. She also said that they are good people after all. They should not be involved in such an ugly and shameful thing as bullying. And they agreed with me. And Katya told me how I decided for myself then that I would try to learn how to get along with people. That I'm going to try to be nice to people. Don't lick, don't give in, but just be someone who wants to play with me and be friends with me. Do you understand? — Well? — And it's all over. The boycott was lifted. “Well done.” I just know what it's like... There's no other way. ***
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