She looked at me, her head tilted, “You should tell someone he did that to you.” I scoffed, forcing a smile.
“We both know how that would go. Social would get involved, and I can’t risk them taking you away from me.” She snaked her arms around my neck, burying her face against me.
“Don’t let them take me.”
The worry in her voice almost broke me. “I would never let that happen. As I said, I’m fine, so no need to tell anyone.” The guilt hit me hard. She shouldn’t have to live this way; no kid should. Having to hide the dark truths of our lives behind closed doors. But that was just it; it was our dark reality.
She pulled back, and I could still see the sadness pooling in her eyes. “Will you come get me after?” Quickly pointing her finger at me before I could get out a word, “On time!”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, flinching slightly from the pain in my cheek. “Alright Mum, but yeah, I’ll be here”. She gave me one more tight squeeze before turning from me and walking towards the door, my eyes catching Mrs Harrison giving me a disgusted glare.
When she disappeared within the classroom, I turned away from the gate, letting out a huff, an audible resistance against going home. Instead, I wrapped my arms tightly across my chest and wandered in the other direction. The icy wind hit my face once again, making the bruises sting all over. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I wasn’t in the mood to deal with that fucker.
I drifted for a while, past the shops as their shutters flung open, taking in the odd concerned glance from passersby. Past corners where lads like Danny used to hang around, plastic bags palmed and eyes twitching. I pulled my hood up and kept my head down, knowing all too well what they were thinking:‘Shouldn’t he be in school?’
I’d stopped going. Used to, even tried to do it right. I kept my head down and did the work whenever I could focus for long enough. Squeeks would look up to me like I was doing something big just by walking through those gates.
But school for me… it was just another war zone with uniforms and fire alarms.
There was this kid, Jamie. One of those entitled types, who always wore the most expensive school trainers and slicked his hair back with a ridiculous amount of gel. His dad was a big-shot board member for the school, and his mum, well, she wasplastic fantastic. I think if you held a lighter to her, she’d go up in seconds.
I, however, looked like I’d just rolled out of bed 10 minutes prior. I endured a daily dressing down from the head teacher, who would tell me to tuck in my shirt or scrub my hands, after I created endless doodles during science class instead of falling asleep. I probably brought it on myself, sticking out like a sore, grubby thumb compared to the others. But in all honesty, I didn’t give a shit how I looked; I fucking hated school.
During lunch, he would shout things at me such as, “You stink like piss, Screech,” or “I bet your mum gives discounts behind the bins.” Always saying it loud enough so the others could laugh at my expense. I bit my tongue for weeks, God knows how, but I did, just like I did at home. Pretending it didn’t matter. Pretending I didn’t want to cave his fucking head in with the nearest chair.
But that day, he made the biggest mistake, blurting something out about Squeeks. I don’t even remember what he said, I can just recall the blinding heat in my chest and something fucking snapping in my brain. Next thing I knew, the mist had descended, and he was on the floor, screaming. Blood spilled from him, the lovely shade of crimson decorating his face and clothes. It didn’t take long for the teachers to arrive and start dragging me off him, my fists still clenched as I fought against them. That prick was mine, and I was going to finish him. No one says shit about my sister.
Makes me laugh thinking about it now; his face was a mess. Three nights in hospital, a broken nose and cheekbone. One of his teeth flew out of his face, I remember that clearly. It landed by the side of my shoe. The head called it ‘unprovoked violence’.
It didn’t matter that Jamie had been taunting me for months, didn’t matter how long I’d kept it bottled. One heated phone call from his well-connected parents, and I was some feral fuckingdog that needed putting down. They didn’t see the bruises I wore under my uniform, didn’t know what it took to get there some mornings. They never asked, but why would they? I was just another lowlife who wouldn’t amount to anything. Guess they were right.
Mum didn’t show up for the school meeting. Danny sent some scabby mate of his to pretend he gave a toss. The whole thing lasted twenty minutes, threatening me with police involvement if I didn’t leave quietly. So, I got expelled, and that was it. Done.
No second chance or understanding, just a file with my name on it that said violent and troubled.
I still think about Jamie sometimes, wonder if he ever tells that story to his mates, but on the flip side, where he handed my ass to me, putting me in the hospital. Wouldn’t put it past him, the daft prick.
I didn’t get the offer of being sent to another school; I just kind of… vanished into the cracks. Now, I walk Squeeks to school, watch her go in, and then disappear. In the same way, I disappeared from the system.
I walked past the same corner shop as yesterday.
“Oi!” a familiar tone shouted from behind me; I turned, furrowing my brows until I saw him.
Fuck, it was Chester. If he wanted to be paid back, I’m screwed; I didn’t have the cash to pay him.
“You alright, Screechy boy?” he said.
My eyes snapped to him, taken aback that he remembered my name. I didn’t answer, just stood there ready to bolt, suddenly aware of how battered I looked, attempting to hide my face from him.
“Rough night?” he asked gently, standing to his feet from the wall.
I shrugged, “Looks worse than it is.”
A small chuckle left him as he observed my features, “It looks like someone used your face as a punching bag.”
“Could say the same about your outfit,” I muttered. My weak attempt at banter as my eyes shifted from him.
He grinned, “Brutal but fair, I guess.” There was a pause between us, as if he was expecting me to spill the events of last night. I felt like telling him, but caution restricted my words because, in reality, I didn’t know him. Sensing my unease, he broke the silence.
