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Snide laughter behind the closed steel door hurt more and went deeper than icy wind. Kentin was standing in the white darkness outside, his hair and clothes covered with snow, he lost his glasses before, during the scramble. Doorknob was so cold that it nearly burnt boy's fingers. He knew that pulling it would be pointless, that he can pound to the door until he break all bones. The won't let him in. Again. He has to spend a night in a bin shelter, trembling with cold and digust. At the morning he would get scolded for roaming around after dark, probably with some punitive push ups. Maybe he'll faint again.
And then they'll scold him for being pussy.
How many nights he hadn't sleep this week? Kentin lost the count. Days were blurried with nights. What's the difference anyway? He didn't sleep at night, he barely kept his eyes open during the day. Fear gripped his throat, it didn't let him eat anything... whatever, someone spit into his lunch again. Tomorrow they'll force him to drink from the toilet or swallowing anything revolting stuff that cross their mind.
Honestly, he didn't really want them to open the door.
Father told him to not snivelling. End of topic. He listened to Kentin's request once and nothing good came from that.
Nothing connected with Kentin had bring any good to anyone.
Boy looked behind, at a dark yard. Barracks's walls towered him grimly, each sharp edge told: you would never get out.
So what now, bin whelter? Kentin heard that death from freezing is kind.
He shivered, scared by his own thought. If he lied on the snow, he would fall asleep and never wake up.
No. That's not what parents send him here for. (You're so weak, Kentin, so hopeless)
Yeah, like father would even mourn him. (It's so easy, just lie down and let the night do it's job)
Mom? She would probably be heartbroken... (End would be nice and warm, just like falling asleep in comfy bed)
For some time. Then she would get better without worrying about him anymore. (You're so tired, Kentin)
Snow was white and soft, but that softness sting, pinched his skin with countless icy needles. Fingers and toes burnt with freezing fire. His teeth rattles so hardly that he has to watch out and not bite off his tongue. Sky had a livid-red color of frostbite. Snow kept falling, snowflakes melted in Kentin's eyes, breath, in a trickle of tears running down his temples.
He had to be patient. At last, he already get used to wait out nights.
*
For last few days Evan volunteered in night watch. He wasn't superstitious or over-reacting guy, but lately his hunch, instinct or whatever they call it had alarmed him every time he was looking at that little four-eyes.
Because Kentin was like a pane covered with starry cracks.
Evan has seen it before, the kids at the end of their tether, fuck, he was one of them - but this time vibe was harder than ever, it pierced him like an icy wind. The way kid's mind was drifting awya sometimes, his eyes, his moves - one moment too nervous, other time like a sleepwalker. That eavesdropped phone call to his father.
Despite wanting it or not, Evan every morning expected that someone will find kid hanged or with wrists cut to the bone. Every morning he felt some weird relief, seeing Kentin at muster.
It was hard to approach that brat, Kentin was one of those guys who are looking down and muttering exact things people want them to say. "Yes, I'm fine, no, nothing's wrong." Soldier really wanted to shake him.
Evan knew all too well that no one could control brats in their bedroom, he had his job to do anyway. But at last he could check desolated spots, abandoned buildings - places where he got beaten up before. Dark passages with no lights - like the place where those pricks attacked him years ago.
He could listen carefully, searching for any unusual sound, and pray that he won't be too late.
So of course he noticed a dark shape lying on the snow.
(It was dark passage, far away from main barracks, a perfect spot for a trap)
He started to run.
(Kid's hands were like sticks, if some dude want to rape him, he would do this with no effort)
"Hey! Het, what's up with you!? Can you hear me!?"
(This kind of motherfuckers would like to leave him unconscious - dead, frozen kid can't accuse anyone)
"Kentin? Hey, kid..."
Kid spranged up, visibly panicked, instintively avoiding Evan's touch. Soldier breathed again. Jesus. Kid's alive. At last.
"What hapenned? Have you faint? What are you doing here at night?"
Kentin looked down, his voice quiet and hoarse, distorted by rattling teeth.
"I-I-I-m f-fi-n-ne..."
Quick glance revealed no blood. Neck and wrists untouched. Clothes whole, with no trace of ripping.
"Kid, you were lying on a snow in the middle of night. Don't tell me that you were going to do some snow angels."
No response. Evan sighed. Guess he have to wait with questions.
"Come on, let's go to the canteen. You need some hot drink."