I had hoped that by now I would’ve mostly let go of this tragic story. I mean, I didn’t know any of these people, and live in another state.
I wasn’t ever bullied; I’m grown now, an older guy luckily retired early with money. I should be enjoying life . . . live and let live . . . mind my own concerns.
And yet, the more it goes on, the more I know, the more furious I become.
Picturing the small but pretty little Irish lass, a kind girl with the “infectious laugh,” trying to all alone find her way, to make friends, in a new environ, a cold unwelcoming environ, being surrounded, outnumbered, berated, humiliated, threatened and frightened by larger, meaner, uglier strangers in the informal gangs that took evil pleasure from turning her infectious laugh into trembling tears at every opportunity.
Wolves. She was thrown to the wolves.
This meek, sweet, searching young girl with an enchanting accent, who only asked to be left alone, and if not that, afforded common, normal protection from harm.
Even while the tears were still on her cheeks, the adults in charge, blind and clueless without a shred of integrity, threw her back.
Into the wolves.
America, defended by honorable brave men like my father, a decorated captain in the Army in World War 2, who was wounded battling the Nazis because they were a country who had become bullies, is not supposed to have these types of people.
Not my America.
They are a boil, a sore, a disease, a virus, a cancer, to the fair play, stand up for the underdog, the pushed around & the bullied, America that I believe in.
The wolves even leaped and cackled after their kill, at their subsequent dance (of the macabre), an event that little Phoebe will never have a chance to be invited to by her prince charming like young girls dream of.
There were no prince charmings in that horrid hell of a town, and their torture school
A pox curse. A curse from on high, on all of the dirty, useless, corrupt, pathetic clowns who played their part in this travesty from the enablers to the perpetrators to their defenders. Forever.
Why all Irish men’s beards are red