I wish my mom was here. For the first time in what feels like months, I wish she was here to stop them.

It must’ve been something terrible.

It must’ve been something that kept them up at night. That scared my mom enough to send me away.

“Corporal punishment is the only thing that works with delinquents like you,” the man says.

Blood drips from the boy’s lip as he lifts his head and I swear he’s going to talk back. He’s going to say something, but he doesn't. The only way I can stop looking at the boy is to close my eyes, but I’m not allowed to close my eyes.

My heart hammers and I memorize his face. Every detail. I swallow thickly and I pray for the guard to say the boy’s name.

Time ticks on. Not minutes, but hours. Hours of sitting there, watching him forced to sit and stare at the mirror on the wall.

They did it to me first. How long has it been?

There’s a ringing in my ear and I can’t hear. Please don’t ask me to repeat what he’s saying. I pray, my heart racing.

“Are you listening?” He sticks his fingers in his hair and pulls. The boy’s face crumples. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answers. He speaks. His voice. I’ll remember it forever. I can barely breathe as I watch.

He screams at the boy who tears up but doesn’t cry. I wish he would, if he would give in, maybe the man will stop.

It will never end.

It will never, ever end.

The voice tells me.

“You’re worthless!” The man screams. “You’re completely worthless. You shouldn’t exist. Nothing about you should exist. There’s nothing that makes you worthwhile. I don’t even think you can understand that. I don’t think you can do what you came here to do. What did you come here to do?”

“Learn, sir,” he answers. “And follow the rules.” I know what will happen if I react. I know what will happen if I cry.

On the other side of the window, the boy twists his head at an angle that has to hurt. His eyes meet mine again. I thought my heart couldn’t beat any faster, but it does.

I remind myself he can’t see me.

How can he be so defiant after that?

How can he be so unbroken?

How can he risk it?

“You’re nothing,” the man repeats. “You’re nothing to anyone. Nobody can fix you. Nobody should waste their time.”

Tears stream down my cheeks and behind me the guard shifts his weight. I stay perfectly still. Desperate for this to be over.

Don’t move.

Don’t move a muscle.

I don’t know how long it goes on.