“If the culprit does not admit to his misdeed, all of you will be punished,” the Mother Superior stated sternly.

All the boys were gathered in the large hall way, they stood in straight rows, the youngest at the front and oldest at the back.  Mother Superior closely scrutinized the faces before her, trying to detect the slightest sign of guilt. There were plenty of things that Mother tolerated, but thieving was not one of them. A whole box of toffees had been stolen from her office, sweets which had been gifted to her by a grateful benefactor to be shared between all the children.

“We will stand here all night, until one of you confesses,” she said, and everyone knew her words were not an idle threat.

Jackson saw the way Mark, who was standing in the row in front of him, was nervously shifting from foot to foot, and instantly knew that he was the culprit. It wouldn’t take long for the mother superior to pick up on his very telling behaviour. Mark was a horrendous liar, and mother would quickly realise he was lying if he attempted to deny his actions. Knowing that Mark wouldn’t confess on his own, and that his punishment would be more severe if mother realised he was to blame herself, Jackson raised his hand.

“Was it you?” she questioned her voice raising.

“Yes, mother,” he replied and all the boys turned to look at him. The surprised and guilty expression on Mark’s face confirmed that Jackson was right to suspect him.

Slowly Jackson left his row and went to stand before the Mother Superior. “I am sorry Mother,” he said lowering his head.

“Where are the sweets?”

“I ate them Mother,” he replied his head still bent, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Mark anxiously chewing at his lower lip.

“Did you share them with anyone else?” she asked turning her gaze towards Mark, who starred back at her with wide frightened eyes.

“No, Mother,” Jackson answered quickly. “It was all my doing. I stole them from your room and ate them all myself. I am ashamed of my actions, and beg for your forgiveness.”

“You are not lying to me, are you?” she questioned.  “You are well aware that lying is a sin.”

“I am aware that lying is a sin Mother, but I am speaking the truth,” he said, but Mother didn’t believe him. She knew just by looking at Mark that he was somehow involved, but she couldn’t take action if Jackson continued to deny it.

“Put out your hands,” she ordered and Jackson quickly obeyed. “Remember that God knows when you are lying,” she said bringing down the thick wooden ruler against his outstretched palm.  Tears filled Jackson’s eyes as pain shot up his arm and his hand began to throb. Jackson bit onto his lower lip to stop himself from crying out in pain when Mother forcefully hit his other hand.

“Are you sure you’re not lying?” she questioned with menace in her voice.

Jackson shook his head as tears spilled down his cheek, “No, Mother I am not lying.”

“Very well than,” she said hitting Jackson’s palm again with all the strength she could muster.  Mother continued to hit his hands until the skin got thorn and blood seeped out of the wounds. Jackson lost count of the number of times mother banged his palm with the splintery wooden ruler. By the time she stopped his hands were completely numb, both his hand and wrists were bleeding and he was crying uncontrollably.

“Let that be a lesson to all of you,” Jackson heard the Mother Superior speak as he tried to catch his breath. “Thou shalt not steal,” she quoted. “Jackson you are not deserving of the food our dear lord has provided us with, go get yourself cleaned and then go directly to bed.”

“Yes, mother,” Jackson croaked, and raising his head he met Mark’s wide teary eyes. Tears stained Mark’s cheeks and his lower lip was trembling, Jackson tried to smile at him but failed miserably. Following Sister Cecilia, Jackson walked past Mark and the rest of the boys towards the bathroom.

Sister Cecilia was a kind, rather plain looking nun in her late twenties, and was greatly respected and loved by all the boys. Unlike Sister Evangeline who not only had a stern looking wrinkly face that frightened the younger boys, but was equally as mean and cold hearted as she looked. She never once showed any love or sympathy towards the children in her care, unlike Sister Cecilia, who always had a cheerful smile on her face and a kind word to share with the boys. 

“Was it really you?” she questioned gently, as she cleaned the lacerations on Jackson’s palms and wrists.

“Yes,” Jackson answered, wincing in pain when he felt the cool water against his broken skin.

“You don’t have to pretend with me”

“I am not pretending,” he insisted his voice raising.

Sister Cecilia smiled at the boy and continued to silently clean his wounds. Violence wasn’t something the Sister agreed with, but Mother was emphatic that physical punishment was the only way to keep the boys in line, and to make sure they grew up to become acceptable members of society. But Sister Cecilia didn’t think that beating a boy till his hands were thorn would teach him anything, other than to mistrust and resent authority, especially when he obviously was not the culprit.

Everyone including the Mother Superior could tell that Jackson wasn’t the real thief, he was a smart boy and if he wanted a toffee, he would have taken a handful not the whole box. Mother would not have noticed if a few toffees were missing but would obviously notice that the box was no longer in its place. There was only one person Jackson would take the fall for and that was Mark. The two of them were inseparable and Sister Cecilia worried about their co dependencies. They did everything together, and spent every waking minute in each other’s company.

There were almost forty boys living in the care home, yet Mark barely socialised with any of them. Jackson on the other hand was a social butterfly and was greatly liked by all the boys, Sister Cecilia cared for all the children but she had a special place in her heart for Jackson. He was a kind and very sweet boy, a chatter box that made everyone smile, and although she liked Mark as he was equally as lovable in his own way, Sister Cecilia worried that he was a hindrance to Jackson, preventing him from forming bonds and friendships with anyone else. Mark dominated Jackson’s time and would sulk and scowl whenever Jackson talked or played with the other boys. He seemed to crave for Jackson’s constant attention and Sister Cecilia didn’t think it was healthy behaviour on Mark’s part.

“Is it too tight?” she questioned as she fastened the bandages around his hands.

“No, it’s fine,” he answered, and the sister firmly secured the bandages in place.

“Are you hungry?” she asked and Jackson quickly shook his head. Jackson knew that she would bring him food to eat if he said he was hungry and not wanting her to get into trouble with Mother, he lied and said he was not.

“I’m tired. I just want to sleep,” he said rubbing at his swollen red eyes with the back of his bandaged hand.

By the time the rest of the boys came into the sleeping quarters Jackson was already lying in his bed with his eyes closed pretending to be asleep. He could hear his roommates talking and getting ready for bed, he could sense Mark hovering next to him, but he didn’t open his eyes and carried on pretending to be asleep. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone and finally the exhaustion of his crying fit earlier, overcame the throbbing pain in his hands and allowed him to fall asleep.

Jackson was startled awake from his dreamless slu