The 8th (8 page)

* * * * *

“Where have you been?” asked mum as soon as I stepped into the family home. I didn’t answer her straight away. I wasn’t expecting to be bombarded with her questions as soon as I walked in. Couldn’t exactly tell her I had been at the cinema with David. She’d be mad that I hadn’t gone to school. She might even be mad enough, after the video incident, to report it to dad too - when he comes home from work...If he comes home from work. “I asked you a question - where have you been? Dinner is ruined.” Dinner wouldn’t have been ruined, I doubt she would have even cooked it yet.

“I was in the library with David,” I lied. Stupid, really, as she knew it would be a lie. I can’t remember the last time I went to a library.

“The school phoned.”

“What?”

“They phoned. Apparently you didn’t show up for registration after lunch. They wanted to know if everything was okay.”

“They actually called?”

“Yes...”

“They do that?”

“So where were you?” Mum’s face reddened. I knew she was mad. One of the signs she was angry was when her face went a bright shade of red; similar to if she were embarrassed. The thing with mum, though, is that she’d only be angry because she wouldn’t have known where I was...Because she would have been worried...Not because I didn’t go to class. “Well?”

“I was at the cinema...”

“With David?”

“Yes, with David. We had some problems at lunchtime and couldn’t face going back for the afternoon. We didn’t think it would be a problem...”

“More like you didn’t think the school would have called?”

“And that...”

“Look, mum, I don’t like it there. The name-calling...The bullying...”

“They’ll settle down, it’s just because you’re new.”

“What? No. No it’s not. It’s because I am friends with a homosexual and I dared stick up for him. You saw what happened with the video. You saw that. The trouble I got into...It’s going to carry on. God only knows what they’ll do next. I don’t want to go back...”

“You have to go back! I’m sure they’ll soon get bored and move onto someone else.”

“It’s different to the way it was when you were at school, mum...You know, when the world was in black and white and you didn’t lock your front door at night...”

“Well you’re going back tomorrow. If you want I can go in with you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t mean to. “Thanks but I’m pretty sure that won’t help!”

“Well just stand up to them then! Now promise me you won’t bunk off again.” I didn’t say anything. “Promise me.”

“Fine. I promise. Whatever.” I pushed past her to head up the stairs to my room. I knew it was pointless telling her about what was happening at school but figured there was nothing to lose. Nothing to lose, at least, other than my patience. Once upstairs, and in my bedroom, I closed the door for some privacy. I don’t know how David does it. He’s been dealing with this for months now, I’ve only had it for a couple of weeks and it’s getting to me. Perhaps it’s because I am tired; tired of moving around from school to school...Home to home...Tired of the pressures of playing catch up with school work...Tired of having to meet new people and try and make new friends...Trying to pretend that everything is okay, at home, when really...I’ve had enough of my mum’s constant smothering and the fact my old man is never there - always working for the Ministry of Defense...I’m even tired of not knowing, exactly, what he does for a living which causes us to move around so much. I’m just tired. I’ve had enough. And...I can’t believe the school phoned home on my first missing afternoon. So much for escaping from time to time, to get some peace and quiet. I can’t have them call home all the time. It’ll only cause issues at home too. Then there’ll be no escape.

The door opened and mum came in, “Your friend David is downstairs. Is he okay? His face looks terrible...”

“What?” I jumped off the bed, where I had slumped, and hurried downstairs. David was standing at the foot of the stairs with his face all battered and bruised. “What happened?” I asked.

“I’ve had enough!” he said before I had even finished my sentence. “I’ve fucking had enough of it all...” David was getting more upset. It looked as though the only reason he wasn’t already crying was because he was so angry. “All of them...I’ve had it...I’m not going back...That’s it...”

“What happened?” I asked again. “Jesus Christ, David...Just tell me!”

“Piers...His friends...They happened. Outside my house, man. Outside my house.”

“What about your parents? They didn’t see what happened?”

“They’re not home. They never get home until later in the evening. They fucking waited for me outside my house.”

Mum appeared behind me, “Are you okay?” she asked David.

“No, of course he’s not okay. Look at him!” I said. “This is what it’s like at school. Those bullies...The ones you said would leave us alone...This is what they do...” I felt myself getting as angry as David. “Come on,” I said to him, “you can get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom.” I led the way for him whilst mum just watched, a look on her face which suggested she still didn’t get it. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would take for her to understand.

10.

“You okay now?” I asked David. We were standing outside his front door having been given a lift by mum. She waited in the car whilst David and I chatted.

“I’m fine,” he said. I didn’t believe him. I was worried about him. He didn’t really seem as though he was there; the lights were on but he wasn’t home.

I looked towards the living room window. The lights were on so I guess one, or both, of his parents were home now. “Are you going to tell them what happened?”

“Don’t think I can hide it...” His face did look a mess. “It won’t make a difference, though. They’ll still make me go back tomorrow.”

“They don’t care?”

“Dad said once that it was deserved.”

“What? How?”

“Because...”

“You’re gay?” I asked. David didn’t say anything but I guessed that’s why his dad felt as though he deserved a beating from time to time. There was a slight pause. “You going to be okay?”

He shrugged, “What’s the alternative?”

“It’ll get better,” I said, not that I believed my own words. It has to get better. We don’t actually deserve any of what we are being subjected to. David didn’t react to what I said. “Well,” I continued, “I best get back...I’ll see you tomorrow. You never know, Piers and his friends might not show up again...Could be scared you’ll get the teachers involved and they’ll be suspended.”

David shrugged. I turned to look at mum who was still sitting in the car. I could tell she was getting impatient but hated leaving David like this. I guess everyone has a breaking point and this must have been his. I don’t blame him. I haven’t been here half as long as him and I’m already close to mine. I turned back to David to continue our conversation but he was already stepping in through his front door. Without so much of a goodbye he closed the door. Maybe he’ll be back to normal tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep?

I walked back to the car and climbed into the front seat, next to my mum.

“He seems quiet,” she said. I shot her a look.

* * * * *

“What are you doing?” asked Mrs Price. I was just standing there, in front of the class. My mind was elsewhere. Drifted off for a minute. Disappointed there isn’t enough time to deal with them all individually. “We need to get Ben some help.”

“He’s dead,” I said. I didn’t even look at him. I could tell he was dead. His breathing was noisy earlier. Now I can’t hear it at all.

“You’re going to prison...” said Mrs Price, “For a very long time.”

“No, I’m not.” I smiled at her and glanced at the gun.

“You killed someone!” she continued.

“So did Piers!” I yelled. “Chloe...” I pointed to where she was still weeping. “Murderer! Lynn...” I pointed to a girl sat towards the back near to where Piers was sitting, “Murderer! Robert...” one of Piers’ friends, “...Murderer...John...” another lad close to Piers, “even Ben and Daniel...They’re all murderers...The only difference is they didn’t pull a trigger.”

* * * * *

Lessons are about to start. The class is quieter than usual. David is doing his usual trick of leaving it until the last possible minute to come to class. There are whisperings from the back row. I can’t quite make them out. Something about David. I wonder, after last night, whether he’s coming back to class or whether his mum and dad are finally pulling him out of here and sending him somewhere else?

I turned round to look at the back of the class. Piers and his friends are missing again. Same old story with them. They fight with someone and then disappear for a few days. A few days later they re-emerge from whatever hole they crawled into, as though nothing has happened. Pieces of shit. With the mood I’m in, it’s probably a good thing they’re missing. For what they did last night, I don’t think I could keep my calm. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just Piers by himself but...Him and all of his gang? I would have just ended the same way as David did last night.

My attention turned to the back of the class, again, when the door opened. I half expected it to be David but it wasn’t. Mrs Price walked in; a solemn expression on her face. Well, this is new.

The class watched, in silence, as she put her bag by her desk. She looked as though she was taking a couple of minutes to collect her thoughts.

“We’ve just heard,” she said after a few more minutes, “that last night David took his own life...”

* * * * *

“No one in this class is innocent!” I shouted. “No one!” I waved the gun around at each of the pupils. They tried their best to duck out of the way of the barrel. “Not you! Not you! Not you! No one! You all need to learn...You need to be taught a lesson. The only innocent ones are standing here...” I turned to see David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate and Helen.

“There’s no one there,” said Mrs Price.

“Just because you don’t see them, it doesn’t mean they aren’t there but they’re always here. Always walking the corridors where they were tormented for so long...What I’m doing...What I’m here for today. Someone should have done this a long time ago...”

“What you’re doing...This doesn’t make anything right. This doesn’t change anything...”

“It will! Don’t you see. People will hear of this. This story will spread across the world...Newspapers, television programmes...A warning to others who may be tormenting colleagues close to them...”

“It won’t. You’ll just go down in history as another psychopath killing innocent people in their school...”

“Just as David will be another suicide statistic?”

* * * * *

Mrs Price’s short words were all that was mentioned of David in the school - at least in front of the pupils. There were no speeches, in the morning assembly, offering people in the same position as David any help. There was no advice for handling bullies. There was nothing. Even the local newspaper hardly went into any details about it when it landed on the doorstep three days after the event.

My mum felt bad for me, as I had lost a friend, but then went onto say she could see it coming. She could see it in his eyes that he was a troubled young boy; a damaged soul. Teachers didn’t have much to say either. Apparently David had a history of depression which he brought to the school with him - documented in his file from his previous school. I told them about the bullying but it was, more or less, brushed under the carpet. Piers and his friends, of course, denied everything. What made it worse, with regards to Piers and his buddies, was that every time I looked at them - they were laughing. I’m not sure what about but...Did none of them feel any remorse? Did they honestly believe they weren’t to blame for what happened to David?

“What are you doing in here?” mum asked. I was sitting in dad’s office. An office which was normally out of bounds due to the sensitive documents he sometimes had with him. I could never help but wonder why, if they were so sensitive, he brought them home and, more importantly, what difference it made whether we were allowed in the study or not...It wasn’t as though he left them on his desk. They were all locked away in his large wall safe. Speaking of which...I was frantically trying to guess the combination. “I asked you a question.” The locking mechanism of the safe clicked open. Success. Having tried his date of birth, mum’s date of birth, my date of birth...I was surprised when it clicked open on their wedding anniversary. In a world this shitty it was nice to see he still valued his marriage - more than can be said for some couples. Unless, of course, he just doesn’t know how to change the combination code now that it is set. “Get away from there...Your father will kill you.”

I doubt it. He’s never here.

I pulled the door open. There it is. Just as I had hoped. I reached in and took hold of his handgun. His favourite piece to use whenever he is training new cadets. At least, that’s what he tells me it’s for. For all I know he could have purchased it from the black market just as a source of protection for the house. I wonder if mum knew it was here? I only knew from when I had seen it over his shoulder.