The Maths Lesson

My chest was frozen awaiting my fate, a blackboard on which I must write; alone. He called my name, with a smile and flicked his cane as I walked by. I stumbled as I reached the board. No mercy would be shown, as I scrawled the sum, with trembling arm on blackened wood, chalk screeched each number on. The first lash struck behind my thigh, I dropped with burning skin, short pants expose my innocent limb. The second struck my back. I do not cry, it’s not allowed, his spittle on my face. I try again with chalk on board, he screams; but I can’t hear a word! The only thing that I can learn, is the feeling of that cane, on my arms and legs and on my face; even I know , this teacher, is a disgrace.