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The class was always getting noisy this close to afternoon, the weather was nice and the boys were getting restless. There was chatter and cheering in the break, and it was making Henry restless, too. He could hardly bear all the hours spent sitting upright in silence, his head bowed and the teacher’s voice droning on and on. He sometimes felt like he would burst, and today was especially trying - he’d already recieved punishment for causing a ruckus with a rather rude answer, it had earned him some laughs and hurting fingers.
Henry looked at his red and swollen hands. He could take a beating, it wasn’t the first time - they always said he had a problem with authority and needed more discipline. He didn’t mind the pain, he could take it like a man and he hadn’t cried since he was six, it just riled him up and put him in a bad mood. Casually, he’d gotten up to stroll through the classroom, and he felt like throwing something, hard, anything –
There he was, sitting by the window, reading - bloody Daniel, always reading, like the good teacher’s pet he was. Undisturbed, as usual, because no one cared to talk to him, forgotten almost by everyone around him. Henry couldn’t stand him, Daniel who feigned to be nice and harmless, with his dumb smile and his odd gazes.
He was odd, decidedly so.
He didn’t fight back when Henry hit him or pushed him in the corridors, he hadn’t even fought back properly when Henry broke his nose the day Daniel had told on him, that bastard, and earned him such a spanking Henry hadn’t been able to sit properly for days. Henry had cornered him right outside the building and beaten him up until his face had been splattered with blood, and Daniel had done nothing but cry, like a stupid little girl in front of all the classmates that had gathered around them, almost choking on the blood and tears, and it had been so pathetic Henry had felt sick.
Now of course, Daniel had his nose in his book, and he probably thought himself clever, as if he could just keep quiet and trouble wouldn’t find him - but Henry wouldn’t let him have that peace, he still needed something to fling out of the window.
As he noticed Henry approaching him, Daniel shrank against the wall, putting up his book a bit more as if hiding behind its cover could make him invisible to the other boy. Of course Daniel knew better, a few paper pages wouldn’t be enough to save him from Henry’s spite. In the blink of an eye, the book had already been wrenched from him. A weak protest escaped him, but the other’s contemptuous gaze made him fall silent.
Henry held the book up, still within reach, daring Daniel to try and snatch it back. ”What d’you need that for, you goddamn swot.” When Daniel hesitated to make a move, Henry hit him on the head with the book, again, and again, not in all seriousness, but hard enough to hurt. “What, don’t want it back? Well, then I can just throw it away, eh?” He was not teasing, he was outright mocking, his words too vicious to be playful.
All at once, the class became quiet. Faces were being turned in their direction, full of ill-concealed interest as Daniel struggled with the situation. It was not that he enjoyed his classmates usually not taking notice of him, but he vastly preferred being overlooked to this kind of attention. He wasn’t like the others, bold and always eager to prove their daringness. But there had been a time when he had tried to stand up against Henry’s harassment in his own way, by telling the teachers and letting them administer just punishment.
He opened his mouth to threaten Henry with just that, when suddenly he remembered the metallic taste of blood, and bit his lip.
”That’s what I thought.” Henry spat the words, like Daniel fully aware of the attention, so he raised his voice. “If you open the window, I’ll throw it!”, he declared, and one of the two boys next to them got up to do so. The class was in on the fun, they were all curious if he’d dare to do so, and someone yelled, “Come on, do it!”
They got so excited when he did things like this, they even cheered on him at times, but he knew that most of all, they wanted to see if he’d have the guts.
Henry threw the book without hesitation, and with some force, and the boys close to the windows peered down to see it hit the ground. There was some laughter, and Henry turned back to Daniel, who had done nothing to prevent it, but looked rather shocked, when –
”Teacher’s coming!”, someone yelled, and everyone scurried back to their tables as quickly as they could, and Henry had to hurry. When he glared over to Daniel during the lesson, he saw that his shoulders were hunched and he was still biting his lip, and Henry felt like punching him again.
—-
There were days when Henry talked to others and could even take some banter, when he’d kick cans with them in the yard, and when he’d not get in a fight over losing. But there were other days, when he did not talk, and most of them knew better than to bother him then. There was a wall between them, and they felt it, too - his anger was quiet, but always there, ready to lash out at the first victim to cross his path.
He loitered around the school grounds; he was never too keen on going home, mother’s words were still fresh on his mind. Worthless, just like your father, no matter what he did, it was always his fault, his father’s son, he knew she couldn’t stand the sight of him. He didn’t bother anymore to appease her, he let her hatred wash over him like a wave. Let it all come, he did not care, he did not even flinch anymore.
When he kicked him again, the boy beneath him whimpered in pain, but Henry still felt numb.
—-
Spring had been changeable, there hadn’t been much time for games in the yard as rain and hail had taken turns in queering the childrens’ pitch. The rare sight of sunbeams glistening upon the new shoots in the old bushes had made them excited for the summer, and on good days even Daniel had been caught playing Conkers with a few others on the infirmary compound, which was lined with grand chestnut trees.
When summer finally came around, so did the fine weather. From then on, a room of boys filled to the brim with pent-up energy was eagerly awaiting the end of classes.
One particularly bright day, the group had decided to go swimming after school, and Daniel had agreed to join them on their little jaunt. The prospect of enjoying the early summer sun and splashing about with the others occupying him completely, he hadn’t given it much thought. Yet when they arrived at the park and completely carefree, amidst laughter, the other boys were getting rid of their clothes to plunge into the water, Daniel suddenly felt very cold despite the warmth of the summer breeze.
While the fastest of them were already pushing each other in and splashing about and the rest had stripped down, now running and yelling, not wanting to be last, Henry noticed one boy was standing aside, still in his shirt and shorts.
”Oy, Daniel!”, he shouted, and the whole group, previously oblivious to Daniel not participating, turned their heads. “What is it, are you scared of the water?”
The boys snickered at that, and even Henry was pretty at ease, and maybe he’d have contented himself with some comparatively harmless teasing. It was only when Daniel still didn’t move that Henry approached him. “What, are you too shy?”
Daniel instinctively raised his hands, one of them clutching the fabric of his shirt over his chest. It took a few seconds before he felt able to talk without his voice wavering.
”No, it’s just that I don’t feel like swimming right now“, he said, though he didn’t seem too convinced of it himself. He backed away from Henry who was drawing closer and closer.
”Bollocks“, Henry brusquely brushed aside Daniel’s rather weak protest, as he stopped right in front of him. There was no way he’d let him back out of this. It wasn’t like Henry to relent, and Daniel’s obvious discomfort made him press on. “Stop being a pansy and strip.”
Now there were others moving closer to them, intrigued by Daniel’s sudden refusal.
”Yeah, strip”, another one said, and then the rest joined in chanting “strip, strip, strip”, urging him with grinning faces. Daniel shrank from the eager voices, his hands now both firmly closed around the fabric of his shirt. He wanted to turn around and flee, but two of the children were faster. Before Daniel knew what was happening, he found himself in a tight clasp, struggling in vain against the hold of two of his classmates.
”P-please…!”, first he shouted, then he begged, while with much ado and under the pitiless spurring of the boys, Henry pulled and tore off his shirt. As he finally managed to untangle his arms from the sleeves, Daniel felt his captors losing their grip, and as he fell to the ground, tears streaming down his face and his body shaking under violent sobbing, the noise died down.
His now revealed naked back was riddled with scars: Fine, pale ones as the foundation of dark ones, long and stark against the pale skin of the boy. Some of them seemed not to be scars at all, but fresh welts, still reddened and slightly swollen.
The boys, who had been about and ready to drag him in to water, suddenly weren’t too keen on touching him anymore, not with the visibly sore, mistreated skin on his back. Even though it was something they were in some way all familiar with, it was to remain hidden behind closed curtains.
Unwittingly, they had dragged it into bright daylight.
There was a strange, unpleasant moment where all tried to avoid staring at Daniel who was sobbing silently, his wounds on display for everyone to see. Just like them nothing but a boy, helpless and vulnerable for the whole world and its cruelty.
None of them knew what to say, no mocking remark would come, so their eyes flickered to Henry who was still holding the shirt in his hand and looked rather pale. When he felt their glances, he noticed his hand was trembling, so he threw the shirt in the muddy grass and stepped on it.
”Stop crying like a worthless piece of shit!”, he snapped at Daniel, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him by his hair to throw him into the mud to join his dirty shirt. “Fuck off, you bloody twat, I can’t stand your face anymore.” Henry was livid now. Seconds ago, he’d felt sick to his stomach, but now he was alive with fury.
That finally broke the spell, and when Daniel scrambled back on his feet and Henry pushed him to stumble backwards, the group jeered on him.
As quickly as realization had hit the boys, they had wilfully forgotten all about it.
When Daniel ran away, he was followed by scornful yelling and whistling.
—-
The moment that brought the turn, Daniel thought, could’ve just as well passed unnoticed, uncommented and unseized, and it would’ve had spared Daniel one of the worst beatings of his life. Nevertheless, even though he had spent the following months in fear of Henry’s revenge, he had never been able to find true regret about his actions in his heart.
The day that set him free from Henry’s tyranny was in early winter, when the morning air became chill, and the afternoon turned dark quickly. They were playing marbles on the infirmary compound, one of the games Daniel was fairly good at with his nimble hands. Yet he felt his heart leap into his throat when it was his turn to go against Henry. As much as he hesitated, the others insisted, if only to see whether Daniel would let Henry win, a strategy most of them pursued to evade Henry’s anger
Half of his and Henry’s marbles on the line, Daniel knelt there, his favourite blue marble on his thumb, and considered giving up this little treasure if only he could escape another humiliation.
That’s when he noticed that his hand was completely calm, not a single tremor of fear shaking it. And then, almost absentmindedly, following an impulse, much like you would swat at a fly you saw from the corner of your eye, he flicked the marble home.
It took a moment before it sunk in that Daniel had just, almost effortlessly it seemed, won the game.
Everyone held their breaths, gazes wandering from Daniel, who was still crouching on the ground and remained strangely calm, and Henry, who scowled at the blue marble. When he looked up, his eyes met Daniel’s with open contempt.
”Yeah, I don’t think so”, he snorted and started to collect his own marbles back into his pocket, when one of the spectators protested: “But he won, that’s the rules.”
Henry felt the heat of anger, and when Daniel looked at him, afraid, but somewhat expectant, he sneered, “Daniel doesn’t mind, or do you, twat?”, and stuffed the rest of his marbles into his pocket. “You know, I think I’m going to take these, too.” Henry scooped down again, his face close to Daniel’s, daring him to make sound, as his fingers picked up Daniel’s marbles, one after one.
Daniel opened his mouth when Henry took the blue one, but the moment his eyes met Henry’s, he quickly looked away again and remained silent. Triumphant, Henry got up, rolling the marbles in his hand.
”Told you, he’s too much of a huge bloody wimp.” When no one spoke up, Henry kicked Daniel in the sides for good measure. “Still not saying anything, eh? Means you like that, don’t you? And what about your precious marbles? Don’t need those anymore?”
Daniel did not answer, he did not even look at him, passive and fearful, and Henry could’ve kicked his face in for that alone. “Well, how about I just throw them away, then? Look at me, twat!” He kicked him again, and Daniel looked up, startled, so he could witness Henry strolling over to the drain in the ground of the yard. With a satisfied grin at Daniel‘s terrified expression, he picked the blue marble up from the pile in his hand.
”Say bye.” And with that, he flicked it into a hole in the drain’s iron cover.
Had his eyes stung a mere second ago, Daniel couldn’t tell. He felt bile rise within him like vomit. Without remembering how he got there, Daniel was up on his feet, his guts burning, his skin crawling, and his head spinning.
It was like something inside of him had ruptured, leaving a crack in the dam that had held back scorching ire he didn’t even knew he had. And that crack was quickly growing, giving way to a flood of fury that dragged the boy along with the torrent.
He caught Henry by surprise as he reached back and punched his opponent against his jaw. Henry stumbled backwards, but Daniel didn’t stop.
Where the others even there anymore? All he could hear was his own blood pumping through his veins and all he could see was Henry’s surprised face as he fell down and saw Daniel towering above him, just before he kicked the prostrated boy in the stomach. When Henry rolled onto his side, his arms wrapped around his body, gasping for air, Daniel knelt down and got a hold of a bunch of the dishwater blonde hair with one hand, while his other sought for a rock, and found it.
He had thought about this so many times already.
It was just then that Henry looked up at him, his eyes blinded with tears and fear. The noise came back, Henry’s whimpers, his own heavy breathing, the other children cheering him on. His name voiced in a steadily rising pace, urging him to do it.
”Am I really doing this?”, the young boy thought and struck his victim with a rock.
His ears rung under the spectators’ jeering.