Reading the message on my 11-year-old daughter’s phone felt like a sharp jab to the heart. “Piss off [her name]. F*** you. Twat. Don’t f***ing talk to me again, you twat.”
My daughter’s crime? Not sitting with this particular girl on the school bus one morning, opting to sit with another friend. The girl sending these messages was a new friend and had sat at my kitchen table two nights previously and I’d fed her fish pie before dropping her home. Sweet girl, I remember thinking.
This incident happened in my daughter’s first few weeks of secondary school and was a taste of what was to come. I took a photo of the incriminating chat in case I needed it as proof (Snapchat messages disappear
