Demon Child

Today, a kid told me that his mama tells him he 'aint nothing but  a demon-child,' and she once wished he could have left home as soon as he started talking.

"You aren't a demon kid." I smiled and shot him a playful look.

I've heard that the teachers who taught him last year would've agreed with his mama because he had spent one-quarter of his year suspended for hellish antics.  

"Oh, no, I aint a demon kid." He grinned.  I forgive his grammar and smile because I notice that he does have a rather devilish grin.

"Sometimes, I'm just, you know, out there. Way out there. Far in the distance kinda out there."

The kids in the room believe this. I believe this, too, because the demon kid's a bit of a kindred spirit. It takes one to know one, I suppose.

"J____, you know, I'm out there too."

"Yeah, I know," he replied and shot me another devilish grin.

I chuckle. "When you're floating far out in the distance, and you see me, be sure to stop and say howdy, okay?"

"K, Ms. D." 

This is why I'm here.  I look him in the eye and make a pointless wish that I could be his teacher every year, just so his mama's words won't be reinforced by other teachers who haven't figured out that what they say so carelessly, too often sticks.

The End

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