Why is there so much wickedness in this world?

I don't know why I need to share this, but I don't know what to do with it.

So for some strange reason I have an absurd love relationship with riding the bus. There I was walking to the bus stop at 3:20pm without a care in the world. Plotting what I could do with the 50 cents in gas I was saving. As I approach the bus stop I notice a large group of students. Finally I identify what is drawing their attention. A girl stands in the middle sobbing, one side of her face is covered with blood. It drips from her face unto her white shirt and covers her hands as her tears, blood and saliva mix. The students are trying to convince her to go to the nurse but she just continues weeping loudly. Finally, when I say I'll walk with her to the nurse she agrees. Of course I was a little concerned because I didn't want her to faint or pass out while we walked about. I debated whether or not to call 911. In the end we walked back to school (15 minutes). On our long walk I found out that a student threw a rock which hit her eyelid.(We'll call the student "D")

Finally we arrive at the office. They call 911 cause the school nurse is gone. Immediately afterwards her mom is called. Her mom and the paramedics arrive simultaneously. Her mom immediately starts yelling, "D who did this to you? You better say the name this time". The girl responds that she didn't see who did it. Her mom is livid, claims she'll hold the school responsible because her daughter has been hit and harrassed continually. Then she asks, "D where did it happen?". I say the exact location. D's mom starts yelling at her. "What were you doing over there? I told you not to take the bus there. You know what? This is your fault. You don't listen to me and I'm tired of it. I'm going to get rid of you. You are causing me too many problems and I don't have time for this". It was so awful to witness. How can your mom yell at you when someone has assaulted you. Every woman in that room was near tears, but we held it back because of D. D has stopped sobbing by this time. She gazes unflinchingly at her mom as her mom continues heaping abuses on her.

When I walked into that office, I thought the rock-throwing students had committed a heinous crime. But you know what? Her mom's crime was far worse. She refused to support her own daughter, and assaulted her in ways a stranger never could. The sad part to me is that you can't be locked up for saying horrible things to your child. What kind of scars will "D" have to overcome just to be happy and sane?

A story I'll tell one day is of the many acts of wickedness I personally experienced in a city far, far away. Rock throwing 5 year old boys, being run over by teenagers on bike, being chased by young adult hoodlums... How does one survive, only by the grace of God.