We Watched the City Burn

Chapter 4

Ferdinand does not like high school. I cannot say I blame him, he has no friends here. No other fish to play with, no treasure chests to hide in if he gets scared. It can be a lonely place for a fish, not just me. 

It's safe to say that my peers do not like hushquiet me. They call me ugly names when I pass by the halls, throw balls of notebook paper at me in class. Sneer, curse at me. All in all, I suppose that school is different from home in one way, I'm safe here. I don't get hit, no one takes a belt to my back for forgettign the coasters, or for missing a spot on a dish. The teachers try to get me to open up, spill my precious secrets that I'm saving to set myself free. They watch me with concerned eyes, gentle hands fall on my shoulder when I enter the room, sometimes they make me stay after, so they can tell me that I can trust them. That I can always tell them about anything that's going on at home. 

Sometimes I wish I could tell them. But, I know that it won't do any good at all. Besides, I have other classes I should be in. Other work to finish, makrs to keep up. He doesn't like poor marks, so I study like a good boy and pass all of my tests. Hand in my assignments, so one day I can go to college and never come home. 

I dream, sometimes about looking for Her. Heading out toward the sun and finding her in some far away place. She hugs me, smelling like Mother and fresh air, sweet flowers. She does not hurt me, she kisses my forehead, touches me as if I were made of glass. She does not yell, she has a soft voice, like a whisper that keeps the bad dreams away. 

I stand in front of my locker, before first period, gathering my books. I carry my backpack in my hands because of the bruises on my shoulders and back. It hurts too much to have the straps over them, besides, someone would notice me grimancing. Ask questions. Touch me. No touching. I might explode. Or cry, I'm not sure which. Students fly by, all smiles and sunshine, I wonder what it's like to be them. To wear those short sleeved shirts and feel the breeze on thier bare arms. The warm sunlight on thier legs. 

Such a simple thing, but so far out of my reach. I picture myself, in a tank top and cut offs, walking down the hall, the splotches and hideous marks on full display. Would they feel badly about the name calling? Tell me how sorry they are?

Not likely. 

I close my locker, get a deathgrip on my bag and slug off to first period, day dreaming as I wind through crowds, dodging bodies at a standstill and those in motion. I move through a haze, hardly awake, hardly feeling. All I do feel is the burning of my body, the ache from last night's violation. The feeling of His rough hand over my mouth, the ripping pain. The whiskey stench.

I open the door the 400 building, grinding my teeth when some small freshman plows into my left shoulder, not even bothering to apologize. She keeps moving, as if nothing's happened. So rude. My class is just down the hall now, so close, then I'll be safe in my seat, no collisiouns to be had there. I can rest my head until the bell goes off. I don't sleep much, but that goes without saying.

Ferdinand yawns too, flicks his tail and swims in circles over my elbow. As alone as I may feel now, at least I have Ferdinand. My companion. 

I get to the door of my first period without incident, thank God for small favors, and step inside. Mr. Dull doesn't look up from his work, thankfully. I sit down in my seat, first row, second to last desk. Right next to the American flag. For some odd reason, this strikes me as ironic. I glance at the clock, relieved to find that I have 15 minutes before the period begins. The room is warm, silent, only the soft of Mr. Dull's fingers flying over the keys. 

I set my bag on my desk, fashioning a pillow, cross my arms and let my head fall heavy on my arms. Ferdinand purrs, in his odd fish-way and settles down for  nap. Within seconds I fall asleep.