In the beginning, there was a little boy. This little boy had the perfect family, the perfect life. He was nurtured from the start, cared for and loved. He never needed more than he had. He had a baby sister and two loving parents (his mother was on the tough side, but what Hispanic mother wasn't?) who cared for him. He was raised as a kind and understanding little boy, who thought about other people and who considered before he opened his mouth. 

David, the boy, truly was the best little boy in the world. Everyone loved him, especially his parents. He seemed perfect! However, there was one thing he couldn't do: read. It wasn't his fault school didn't run at his pace! He was just never able to make letters connect into words and make sense. He'd tried so hard, and his mother had spent utterly hours trying to teach him, but nothing worked. He just couldn't figure it out. 

Because of this, David was bullied at school. The kids made fun of him for being in sixth grade and being unable to read. They found him stupid, and called him tons of names, from the basic "stupid" and "baby" to other names that are far too mean to type here. At first his mother figured he just couldn't see, so she got him glasses. It turned out he did need help seeing, so the glasses helped, but didn't do anything for his reading issues, not to mention only caused the other kids to bully him more. 

And this day was no exception. From the moment he stepped through the door the kids were ruthless. They swiped his lunch from him, demanding he read a sentence they wrote on the whiteboard in order to get it back and laughing when he was unable to. "Th-The..." he struggled, his eyes squinting as he tried to get the letters scrawled in red marker to form words and make sense. 

One of the other kids cackled, dangling David's lunchbox high above his head. "Hah! No where in there does it say "the", stupid!" The others laughed at him, shaking their heads. David shrunk away from them. It wasn't fair that they got to treat him badly just because he couldn't read! He wanted to do nothing more than curl up in a tight ball on his bed at home while his mama made him burritos and hot chocolate and let him eat in bed. He didn't want to go to school ever again.

"Kids, kids, settle down," the teacher said, stepping into the room. She was an all right lady, with greyish hair in a tight bun and her nose pinched and pointed. She stood too stiffly and spoke too tensely, like she was a robot or a puppet of some kind. "Get in your seats, please." She moved to go wipe the words off the board, but the kid that held David's lunchbox stopped her.

"Wait, Miss Alvarez! We're just trying to help David read!" he claimed, a devilish grin on his face. He turned toward David, his eyes narrowed as he silently dared him to say anything. "Right, David?"

David swallowed a nervous breath, weighing his options. He could tell the truth and say he was being bullied, but that would probably end badly for him. He could also lie, which was the safer option, but Mama said to never lie! He looked down at his feet, kicking the ground lightly with one Converse-wearing foot. He couldn't lie, but if he told the truth he would probably get beat up by these kids. It wasn't fair! 

"Well?" Miss Alvarez arched a pencilled eyebrow, staring down at David with her bony hands on her hips. She waited expectantly for David to speak, to say anything. If he told the truth the boys would definitely get in trouble, but not without them trying to turn around and cast revenge on him. But if he lied, he would feel bad and miss out on a chance to get all this to end. Why was making decisions so hard?

"Y-Yeah, Miss Alvarez. They were j-just helping me," David said quietly. His voice was barely audible, but the teacher was able to hear him. She nodded and turned to wipe the sentence off of the board. He looked away, hugging himself as a wave of guilt washed over him and ignored the other kids as they grinned and clapped him on the back, thanking him for saving them. He moved to sit down in his seat.

He wished things would get better, somehow. That this bullying would end. Maybe the kids would slip up at some point and Miss Alvarez would catch them in the act, so they'll be sent to the principal's office and get in trouble. Or maybe they would turn themselves in due to a sudden change of heart! They'll shuffle into the principal's office with their heads hung low and sad looks on their faces, and admit absolutely everything. Oh, David could almost taste the sweet victory that would give him! 

But he knew that could never possibly happen. He knew they were too smart to give this up. They would probably keep this up all the way to high school. He put his head down on the desk, ignoring Miss Alvarez's lecture as he curled up in his seat, dozing off. He dreamt of a better life, one filled with action and adventure. Where he was a super spy, a double agent for some agency. Where he knew how to use guns and how to read, and he was intelligent and strong and covered in tattoos.

**

His mama was waiting for him with a plate of freshly baked cookies and a glass of milk. She grinned when she saw him enter, clapping her hands. "¡Hola, mijo! Come sit down. I got your favorite! I know it's not burritos, but burritos aren't an after school snack."

"Hola, Mami," he sighed, throwing his backpack on the couch and plopping down in the wooden chair beside her. It creaked under his weight, and he rested his elbows on the table. The sad look in his eyes was enough for her to understand that he wasn't in a good mood. He rested his chin on one of his palms, sighing heavily. 

"¿Qué pasa, mi amor?" Her expression turned to one of concern as she looked down at him, reaching out and cupping his cheek. "You look sad." 

He looked down at his feet, swinging his legs. "Some stuff happened at school, is all. I'm fine." He let out a soft breath, shrugging his shoulders as he looked up at his mother. He hoped she wouldn't push further, but he knew better. His mama was pushy and nosy.

"Mhmm. Tell me everything." She folded her arms and rested them on the table, looking down at him. "I want every last detail."

He let out a breath. He couldn't lie to his mother! He told her everything, no matter what. She was his best friend in the whole world, seeing as no one else enjoyed his company. He remembered the late nights he'd spent crying where his mother would enter his room with hot chocolate and sit beside his bed and just pet his hair, letting him cry into her lap. He'd always told her everything, except the bullying. He'd always been so scared of telling her about how he was getting bullied. It was too hard to put it all into words, especially since she hadn't been there.

David ducked his head, gnawing on his bottom lip as he thought about how to tell her. Should he start from the beginning, when this one kid randomly decided to shove his books to the ground and everyone laughed? Or should he just go from today's events? God, why was it so hard just to figure all this out? He decided to just go with it. "Well...there's been some kids at school who bully me," he began, "because I can't read." He ignored his mother's gasp of surprise, and kept his eyes on the table. He couldn't bare to look at her expression. She always took things to heart and made things way more dramatic than they had to be. 

He knew by telling her this she would take it all out of proportion, probably go to the school district about this and get the kids expelled or something. But he couldn't not tell his mother. That was ridiculous! She was the closest thing to a best friend he had. "They think I'm stupid because I can't read," he continued, his voice quivering. "They throw my books around, take my lunch away from me unless I can read a sentence on the board, rip my glasses off my face and dangle them way too high..."

"Oh, mijo..." Antonia put a hand to her mouth in surprise, which he could tell from the sudden muffling of her voice. "Come here." She pulled him into a hug, and he snuggled into her arms, breathing in her warm, chocolate scent. She always smelled like candy of some kind, and he never knew why. Maybe it was the perfume she wore. "My poor, poor boy. Mira, Mama will fix everything, okay, baby? Don't you worry a hair on your head." He smiled faintly at her words. Of course his mother would fix everything. She always knew what to do. She was a superhero, in his eyes.

She scooped him up, carrying him bridal style and abandoning the snacks on the table. He buried his face in her neck as she carried him up the wooden stairs to his room. It was a small room, but still so...David. The walls were plastered with posters of many kinds, posters of bands, of movies he liked, of everything. There was a little shelf his father had constructed for him that held a few trophies. They were few in number, ones that were for "good participation" or "fastest runner". Basic, little kid trophies. None of them were for "best reader" or for any sports. He couldn't read and he wasn't good at any sports, naturally. So he got the basic trophies. His bed was unmade, the basic black comforter draped lazily across the mattress and his pillows strewn all over.

Antonia ignored all this, setting her precious little boy down in his head and shifting a pillow to rest under his head. She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "My precious little baby," she cooed softly. "Mama will fix everything. I promise." She smiled sadly, but there was a fire behind her eyes David recognized. It meant she was probably going to march down to the school office, yelling at the poor workers and demanding they expel the bullies at once. He hoped he could be there to witness it. His mother being angry was so fun to watch, honestly. The way she would fling her arms in the air and yell in both Spanish and English, and the way her eyebrows furrowed so deeply that one would think she was about to pop a vein. It was just so interesting to watch.

She soon left his room, and he was all alone curled up on his bed in a little ball. He stared at his wall sadly. He felt horrible about all this, being bullied. It felt like home was the only time he was left to be himself and was actually cared about. It was only at home that he was able to get everything he needed. School obviously wasn't a safe place, as everyone bullied him and hated him, and all for no reason. But at home he had his parents, and his beautiful baby sister, Angelica.

He was cared about at home. He was loved. His parents truly and completely loved him, and would do anything for him. He adored his parents, and hoped he could grow up to be exactly like them. They were his heroes.