Chinese kids being tied to trees and beaten with bricks | by Xingshou | Aug, 2025

This is a translated and organized version of a post originally written by a Chinese user, 夢醒时, on RedNote. The translation and editing were done by me, Xingshou.

When I was in junior high school, the class monitor would hit me every day. I have always been very introverted. Later, I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I told my mom that the monitor beat me. Then my mother said it was my fault. She and the rest of my family said that the class monitor would not beat me for no reason. Later, the class monitor became more and more presumptuous. When I was doing my homework, she suddenly punched me in the back, and the whole class was looking at me. She wouldn’t give me credit when I recite lessons, so I often got punished by getting my hands slapped. I talked to my mother many times, but it was useless. I was scared of her continuing to hit me so I stopped going to school. My mom never communicated with me at all when I was in junior high school. She just said it was my problem. That’s why I became more and more rebellious. When I felt depressed and wanted to go for a walk, she wouldn’t let me. She didn’t let me go hiking either. At that time, I secretly bought a mobile phone. My mom found out and smashed it multiple times. They tied my hands and feet at night and threw me in the room, nailed the windows, and locked the door with a lock, making me feel that my home was a prison. She promised to give me the phone during holidays, but later she still tried to take my phone away. I had no choice but to run somewhere they wouldn’t dare go. So one night around one a.m., I ran to a cemetery and hid for two hours. It was winter and there was a light rain. I watched them looking for me from the mountain and even felt a bit happy inside.

If my mom hadn’t restricted me from playing with my phone at that time, I definitely would study hard. My parents’ way of handling things was too extreme. Every time they found a phone they would smash it. If she had communicated with me properly, set a time limit for playing with my phone, told me to turn off my phone and study when the time’s up, and give my phone to her for keeping at night, I would have listened. I wouldn’t have delayed my studies. My little brother, for example, gets less screen time next time if he still played with his phone when he reached the time limit.

My family said I was haunted by ghosts, and said that I was sick. My mom saw this kind of school online. She told me to take me to see a psychologist. Then she took me to a mountain where there were few people. When I saw the camouflage uniforms at school, I realized it was a bootcamp-style school. I cried and begged my mom not to put me there. After the instructor saw her leave, he took my phone away. The school has physical training everyday, seven or eight kilometers a day. The appetite has become so big that one big bowl wasn’t enough. Some students couldn’t finish their food and secretly threw their food in the drain. Instructors would make them dig it out with their hands and eat it. I have indigestion and only have bowel movement once a week. My stomach was huge.

Boys had to shave their heads and girls had to cut their bangs. We all looked like prisoners. There are iron gates everywhere in the school. On the first floor, in the second floor dormitory, on the windows, in the dorm hallway. Guards watched us while we slept. Twenty-one students slept in one room. When I first entered I cried in bed every day, or had nightmares. I’d wake up with a wet pillow. We got up at six o’clock every day. Every meal required singing military songs and lining up. We also sang before going to bed. Every afternoon was for running. We practiced marching styles, running in unison, and had to pass evaluations. In winter, we had twenty minutes to shower. We need to shower, wash hair, do laundry, hang up clothes and go downstairs to gather. If someone exceeded the time limit, they had to run five kilometers. And everything was washed with shampoo.

There was endless physical training. Every two weeks, we were allowed to write a letter, but we weren’t allowed to say we wanted to go home. The letter could only be sent out after the instructors read and censored all letters. The quilt had to be folded into perfect tofu squares and had no wrinkles. The housekeeping was checked every day. If it wasn’t folded well, we would have to eat white rice only all day. Every morning we had noodles, which were so clumpy that we couldn’t eat them. If the instructor was in a bad mood, we had to finish our meal within 30 seconds. We eat the next mouthful before swallowing the last one. In the summer we were very thirsty, but the squad leader wouldn’t let us drink. We couldn’t stand it anymore and ran to the kitchen to get a bowl to drink tap water during meals. (The tap water in China is unclean) I had stomach aches at night.

The quilt was very thin in winter, I had a constantly running nose at night from the cold. My feet and hands got chilblains, which were itchy and painful. We had to wash with cold water as well in winter. Sometimes we were not allowed to wash. My mouth was full of cavities. It snowed heavily in winter, we had to take off our shoes and walk in circles. We could only put on shoes when the instructor was satisfied.Our shoes were worn out from running. It was the same as not wearing anything when it snowed and rained in winter, they were all wet. Once, we girls were locked in the dormitory for half a month without going downstairs or washing or taking a shower. In the summer heat, we had to squat and sunbathe while eating plain rice. After an hour, our skin peeled. Some developed blisters.

There are psychology teachers and instructors, and the instructors are in charge of us. If we made a mistake and got hit, the teacher wouldn’t intervene. Only if an instructor lost control, like slapping heads with a disciplinary ruler and kicking heads, would they step in. Slapping and hitting the hands are the norm. They are used to it.

The boys in there either hacked people or stole things. The girls in there are girls that stayed out all night, drank, smoked, or sold themselves. I heard them talking about honey traps and other things in that dormitory, but I couldn’t understand them at all. Some had HIV or were pregnant and were taken home. They said that I was the first one to come in because of refusing to go to school. Although there were even people who were sent in because of losing weight. If you behave well, you could stay for half a year; if you don’t, there are people who stayed for three years.

I really want that principal to die. We could only endure it. The schedule and training is the same every day. We have no idea what time it is everyday. We were cut off from the world. We are not allowed to write calendars. There will be inspections every once in a while, and all the notebooks we have written on will be confiscated. Some people will count by writing a calendar on their notebooks, but these will be confiscated and torn up every time they are inspected. We couldn’t write anything except the “chicken soup” stuff from the psychology teacher. Despair and breakdown are reflected vividly there.

No one could escape. Even going to the bathroom and drinking water are being led in the team. The place is very remote, deep in the mountains. If we ran out, we wouldn’t know which way to run. This school has a connection with the police, no one has ever escaped. One ran to the high-speed rail station but was caught back. There are still a few hiding in the mountains. Their family signed a contract with the school. Which means that it was their family that asked them to stay in that school, so if they ran away, they had to go back.

When boys escaped and got caught, they were tied to trees and tortured in various ways every day. There was a 6’1’’ boy whose leg was being beaten to broken. He later went to the hospital for surgery and had a steel plate put in. There were also a few girls who stole the instructor’s cigarettes and got reported, they nearly had their eyes beaten blind.

There was a boy who ran away from that school before. After he was caught, he was tied up with ropes. The principal gathered the whole school and let us surround him. The principal made him keep doing duck walks. Later he walked until his legs were shaking and couldn’t even stand firm. Then the principal hit him with a disciplinary ruler from behind. His pants were all worn out. He couldn’t walk anymore so he crawled. We were heartbroken watching him, really. Then he knelt on the ground and begged the principal that he would never run away again and that he was wrong. The instructors took turns slapping his palms, and the sound was very loud. He bent over and rubbed his hands, crying. At night, they tied him to a tree and took turns to keep watching him and not letting him sleep. Then they made him be beaten on the back, carrying bricks — minimum a month.

They took turns guarding on torturing the students. There was a boy who developed a second personality, it was scary to look at him. A boy from my mom’s colleague was sent to that school. He was stripped naked and locked in a small dark room for three days. He resisted and was beaten to death. One girl who got out quarreled with her mother and wanted to jump into the river. When she jumped, her mother jumped in to save her. In the end, the girl lived and her mother died.

They tied you to trees, beat you with bricks, held brutal “boot camps.” Just hearing the words “boot camp” made our skin crawl. The boy whose leg broke was injured during one of those.

If you make a mistake, you will be beaten. If you steal a cell phone to contact someone outside or run away, the punishment will be cruel and inhuman. You will be tied to a tree, beaten with bricks, and put in a bootcamp. In that school, hearing the words “boot camp” made our skin crawl. That boy whose leg was broken was broken by the boot camp.

If you make a mistake, you will be beaten. If you steal a cell phone to contact someone outside or run away, you will be punished severely. You will be beaten like a human. You will be tied to a tree, hit with bricks, and put in a training camp. In our school, hearing about the training camp will give you goose bumps. The boy whose leg was broken was broken during the training camp.

When I was there for five months, my family came to visit me at school. I told them about the situation at school. After the instructors found out, they beat us like we are not human. My parents were indifferent, and they told me that I just needed to behave better. It was really funny. So I would only tell outsiders about things and never say a word to them.

I was only released after half a year. At home, I still have this kind of nightmares and wake up drenched in sweat.

After being released for half a year, my mother sent me there again for eight months. I don’t know if parents know what happens in those places. Maybe they are rarely exposed online. My mom visited that school beforehand. The principal said they don’t beat kids — at most, a light hand slap. But what’s the truth?

My parents knew that this kind of school is very extreme and would beat people, and they sent me there anyway. The most hateful thing is that the first time I came out, I told them about my life there. I told them how miserable it is. I told them everything. My mom had never experienced it, so she could never empathize. My whole family knew about it. That school only filmed the good things and the training videos. The beatings and punishments are never filmed. She still doesn’t understand my pain. She wanted to send me there again. She knew everything, but pretended not to know.

I missed the most important third year of junior high school. She brought me out to take the high school entrance exam. How could I get into high school if I missed the third year of junior high school? I only scored 430, even though I got full marks in P.E. The score is not enough to get into a regular high school, so I could only go to the worst vocational school in town. If I don’t go to high school, I naturally can’t go to college or university. I said I wanted to study makeup. She refused. I explained my idea to her sincerely but she didn’t take it seriously. She made me study early childhood education at the worst local school. I had no choice but to go. Because I really don’t like it, I ran away after studying for three days. Because I didn’t want to study to be a kindergarten teacher, she sent me to that closed school again.

The second time I was picked up by the instructors at the police station. At that time I went to eat hot pot with my friends, and my mother called the police to arrest me. The instructors came directly in the morning. I didn’t beg my mom because I knew it was pointless. I just stared at her until I got in the car. She cried. I didn’t cry out loud in the car but tears kept falling. I thought that the principal might beat me to death this time, and the next time I came back would be a year later.

I knew that if I called the police, I would be the first one to be arrested. I was taken away right there in the police station, and the police officer was right next to me.

Everyone who went back the second time got beaten badly. I carried 66 lbs of bricks on my back and stood for a month. I was only 22 lbs heavier than the bricks, and I was about to collapse. My collarbone was bruised and black. The principal assembled the whole school and beat my hands in front of everyone. I wanted to go out and kill my mom at that time. I hated her so much that I couldn’t feel the pain when he hit me with the ruler. After the beating, my hands swollen so big, I couldn’t even hold chopsticks, my whole body was shaking. I almost fainted. I cried every day.

The contract was a minimum of six months. If the child does not perform well or make mistakes, the contract will be extended. Parents who want to take the child back will be brainwashed by the principal, saying that the child has not changed well and will be the same as before after the child is taken back, and all the money spent will be wasted. Parents will listen to the principal.

My mother asked me if I hated her. Three or four years have passed, and I still have dreams about this all the time. I am so scared that I sweat all over and dare not sleep. It’s too suffocating. I went in at 14 and came out at 16. At that time, I envied a dog so much. I felt less than a dog. Dogs are freer than me.

I gained 22 pounds when I got out. After I got out I was mentally unstable. I couldn’t control my temper — banged my head, smashed things, couldn’t breathe. When having dreams, I was frightened awake. I was out of touch with society and I didn’t know anything. I was supposed to be in the third year of high school and take the college entrance exam this year. I don’t know if I can find the letter I wrote to my mother. Now I think the stuff I write for getting out is really disgusting.

These schools are for so-called “internet addicts,” kids who don’t study or obey. They torture us until we become obedient. Many tried to report them, but it didn’t work. Parents didn’t want to discipline us themselves, so they paid others to do it. Once you’ve been beaten and scared enough, you listen. Even if parents want to send their kids there, calling the police is useless. It’s real abuse, real harm. They treat us like we’re not human.

They’re just like those places where they send internet addicts, kids who don’t study or obey. They torture us, and then we become obedient once we get out. Many people want to report them, but it’s useless. Parents can’t bear to scold or beat their children, so they send them there to be beaten. Once they’ve been beaten and scared enough, they listen. Parents want to send their children inside so calling the police is useless. It’s real abuse, real harm, not treating us like human beings.

This trauma will follow me for the rest of my life.

The post ends here. Below are some of the comments under the original post.

Please note: The comments below were originally written in Chinese by users on RedNote. I used RedNote’s built-in translation feature to convert them into English and took screenshots. The translations might not be perfectly accurate or fully capture the original nuance.