Please Take Me Home

Stockholm Syndrome

Please Take Me Home

-

Chapter Twenty-Three

-

Stockholm Syndrome 

The worst thing about liking someone, for an extended amount of time, is that you get the see the person change and you can do nothing about it. 

***

Luke and Michael we're sitting on the classroom floor, along with the rest of the class, for the teacher to start calling the roll. 

It was the third week of Prep and Luke had made sure that he and Michael were partners for absolutely everything. Their tables were next to each other, their bags week placed on partners bag-hooks, even when playing at recess, Luke made sure he and Michael were together. 

 

Luke had noticed that Michael didn't really talk much, but he made up for his when Luke would say something funny and Michael would burst out laughing, only to apologise once he controlled himself. He had only gotten a rise like that from Michael a couple of times, but oh did it make Luke's day better. 

At home, Luke would always talk about Michael like he was the world itself. It was quite funny actually, because sometimes it was like Luke was talking to a brick wall. 

The class was sitting on the floor and the loud chatter of the five and six-year olds was cut short when their teacher walked in. 

"Alright kids, now when I call your name out I want you guys to tell me what your favourite animal is and why!"

All the kids started talking again, some people talking louder than other, wanting everyone to know what their favourite animal was. 

"Okay, okay quite down please," Their teacher then clapped a rhythm with her hands and then all the students repeated it, silencing immediately. 

"Okay, here we go." The teacher then read out the names of the students in the roll and questioned them. The first few were basically the same answer; "because they're cool/because they're pretty", but it wasn't until Michael's name was called out, that she got an existential answer. 

"Michael," the teacher said in the gentlest voice she could muster because in the whole three weeks that they had been in prep, Michael couldn't have said more than five words other than to the blue-eyed kid that he always hung around with. "Michael, are you here?"

The poor kid. Michael could feel his face heating up when all his classmates turned to look at him. 

“Here” Michael’s small voice stuttered. Not liking all the attention, his blush deepened and the teacher looked at him sympathetically.

“What’s your favourite animal?” 

 

By now, everyone was waiting for Michael to answer, for he was taking his time in answering.

“Lions.” Michael’s one word answer was just heard by the teacher, even though it was silent.

“And why’s that, Michael?”