In the hands of the boy who was killed by his parents, the doctor found a note so

This is the story of a small golden-hearted angel. There are many children today, such as this little girl named Ivan, and unfortunately the life story of all of them is the same. Our goal is to spread Ivan’s story as much as possible to make sure that people know about it. Here’s ivan’s story:

‘My name is Ivan and I’m 7 years old. As much as I love my father and mother, I’m terrified of them. Because they beat me all the time. I don’t know why. I woke up this morning and went to school. My teachers love me because I’m a successful and good student. I love all my classmates, but I don’t have a single friend. That’s why I spend every recess alone in class. No one’s playing with me. I tried to be friends with them, but they didn’t want to be friends by saying I was dirty.

They laugh at me every day for wearing the same ripped t-shirt, pants and shoes. I stole a school hunger jacket that was sitting at school. I thought no one was there because he was always standing there. There was wind outside. I went home when it was snowing. Both the wind and the snow made it difficult for me to walk. Suddenly I fell to the ground and someone jumped on me and said, “Dirty boy, nobody likes you.” He quickly walked away, kicking my back and then kicking my stomach, leaving me there. I sat there and cried. It wasn’t because I was falling or cold. I was crying because I didn’t have any friends. As soon as I got home, my mom pulled my hair and said, “Where are you? Why is it contaminated? Go to your room and never leave until I say so,’ he said. I went to my room doing what my mother said, and I never left my room, including the next day. I’m cold and i’m very hungry. My grades at school are so low. Every time they told my father about it, my father beat me up a lot. He beat me so hard once, I couldn’t move my index finger. After that beating, I couldn’t move my index finger at all, so they made fun of me more.

After a long period of time, a pain in my chest began to appear. My mother and father didn’t care if i felt sorry for me. Every time I went to bed in the evening, all I wished i was not to get hurt. Otherwise, my parents were more angry with me for this. I loved my parents very much.

The next day at school, our teacher asked us to paint a picture that we dreamed of. I drew a different picture of cars, rockets, toys when everyone in the class was drawing pictures. I loved them, too, but before that, what I wanted most was a mother and father who loved me. So I drew up a family picture. There was a child, a father and a mother. They were so happy and playing. I cried quietly as I drew the picture. I wish I had a mother and a father who loved me very much. Everyone laughed at me when it was my turn to show off pictures. So I gave the answer to those who laughed at me.

‘My biggest dream is to have a family that loves me. Because of that promise, the laughter in the classroom grew louder. I cried more violently and said:

‘Please don’t laugh at me. That’s my biggest dream. You can hate me. You might even hit me. But I beg you not to laugh. I want a family just like your family. A family hugging me, laughing, taking me out of school and rejoicing when they see me…

I know I look ugly and weak. My fingers are like skeletons. But don’t laugh at me.

My teacher tried to wipe away my tears. Even though there were people in class who understood me, they still laughed. One day, when the exam results were announced, I had a miscarriage. I knew my mother would be very angry with me. I was so scared to go home. But I had nowhere else to go. I didn’t want to get home, even though my steps were slowly moving home. My mother was furious. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me to the ground. Meanwhile, my leg hit the chair. Then he hit me twice on the head. I couldn’t get up. My mother just left me there. And when he left, he told me to pick up the place when he left, and if I didn’t, my dad would be very angry when he came home.

I begged my mother not to say anything about her test grade. But my father had already arrived. When my mom told my dad about the misgrade, she beat me up and then hit me in the face. After that, I don’t remember it. I was in the hospital when I opened my eyes. My hands weren’t moving. I cried looking out the window. Outside parents were playing with their kids and laughing. So, do you know why I’m crying? I don’t know my mother’s hugging me for as long as I can remember. My parents beat me all the time. But I still love them. I’ve always tried my best. I made an effort at school. But they couldn’t love me. One day I accidentally spilled tea on the floor. That’s why they beat me up again.

I’m starting to get pains in my chest. I told my mother about it, but she didn’t care about me. I went to the hospital alone because of the pain. They didn’t even come to see me. The doctors told me that my mother and father would be coming soon, but they never did. I waited, I waited. But they never came. I love them anyway.

Ivan died two days later in the hospital. The doctor found these on the little piece of paper he had written in his hand. ‘My dear mother, my dear father…

I’m dirty, I’m ugly and I’m stupid. I’m so sorry you don’t love me. I never wanted to upset you. Mom, I just asked you to hug me. Dad, I wanted you to go out with you, hold your hand, and sing to me. I know you’re ashamed of me. But I’m not going to be the kind of kid you want me to be. Ivan’s heart suddenly stopped. All children deserve to be loved. But child abuse occurs every second, every minute, every hour, every day, anywhere. There shouldn’t be violence in a house with a child. All children need is love.

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