On 16 July 2019, Byron and his dad Phil play basketball in the spare room, which has now become Byron’s second bedroom. Phil wins (46/29) for the first time ever. That was the last time I saw Byron. I’ve called in three more times, but Byron’s been in bed every time I’ve gone round since.
His dad, Phil, told me:
“He’s stopped going to school now, because of the bullying. We had the window smashed in again three weeks ago. That’s the third time this year. It’s kids that have been bullying Byron about his weight since junior school. At Easter, they tried to set him on fire with an aerosol and lighter on the bus. Then they chucked his new football boots out the window. He’s a brainy little bugger, but the bullying’s got out of control now. He’s terrified of school, shaking, crying; he’s petrified. He won’t talk to me or the teachers, says no one understands; he just won’t talk. He stopped going to school a couple of months ago. They’ve been bullying him for five years. You can only push him so far and he’ll snap and I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of that because he’s a big bloody lad.”