A call for help

When I was very young, my brother had been hurt by a classmate who had purposly pushed a sharp pencil point into his forhead. The Rebbe had no intelligence to do something about it. When he came home at the usual time, and we saw the damage, my father called the police which was ``forbidden``. The police went to their home and explained that their child had done similar things in the past and that he was wild. Since they were in the country illegally they were sure we knew about it and told the police. A few weeks later I went to my friends house who lives under this family's apartment and when the younger sister realized who I was, she ran up the stairs. When she was nowhere to be found I thaught it was over, but then her older sister peered out the window and when she spotted me she began screaming at me, cursing my family and telling me that we are all crazy, and that my father was a Russha and that my mother was a Goiteh. I started crying and my friend felt bad for me and called her mother. She gave me chips...Like that would help. (Although I could always use some goodies.) The good thing is, they soon moved out of town and we never heard from them again. And we had just another reason to change schools. ☺