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The walls make no sound when someone is pushed against them, no matter how rough or violently. Noel Gruber, the only openly gay man in Uranium City Saskatchewan, came to this realization when someone had grabbed his head and slammed it against the stone. The rattling of his brain did not extend into outside sound but stayed inside his head, along with his ringing ears and quiet grunts of plea.
Twink.
Freak.
F*g.
The latter is always the one that hurt him most. Harmful slurs thrown against him like a dart board, yet everything they say is the same thing said last week and the weeks before. Along with the black eyes and kicks to the stomach, it’s all just the same cycle over and over again.
Five minutes and thirty seven seconds. That was the average time of how long the altercations with others went. The longest being seven minutes and twenty nine seconds, where he was made late to class with a black eye, sprained wrist, twisted ankle, and bruises over most of body.
As they came to a stop, one last comment was thrown at Noel’s direction.
So much of a freak, his dad left him. Hey Gruber! Maybe if you die he’ll come back and try again for a normal kid.
That stuck with him for the rest of his day. His usually outspoken persona was quieted by the thoughts of doubt swirling in his head.
Bringing up Noel’s dad was an ultimate low blow, even for his bullies, but today didn’t seem that great anyways so why not make it worse?
As choir class approached, his thoughts of escape seemed to be the only thing in his mind. His France savings had been cut down to a quarter of which it once was after his mother found it, bought cigarettes and booze then paid the bills.
The ideas engulfed him completely by the time the choir came around. They asked questions about his bruises and his shaking leg but Noel only responded in one worded replies, his attention on something that wasn’t them.
“Hey поет!” Mischa yelled as he barged in the doors, his entrance as grand as ever. His call snapped Noel out of his thoughts as he turned to look at the eccentric boy. His phone in his hand now forgotten, he walked to Noel’s seat and pulled out a journal with the words ‘mad wicked awesome lyrics’ written on the front.
“I post new rap on the Youtubes, BadEgg! Never forget it!” He spoke out to the five other people in the room. He threw the journal to Noel, with the silent agreement that Noel would look it over, and walked to his seat.
“Mischa, we know! It’s all you’ve been talking about for the past three days.” Ocean called out from the other side of the room, clearly annoyed by the constant repetition.
“Maybe if you were famous like me you don’t complain all the time. Little orphan a-hole.” He muttered. As he riled up the spawn of Satan, getting to the point of being in each other's faces and screaming, Noel got more and more agitated. Penny, with an ever-so watchful eye, looked over to Constance to help ease the situation, only for Constance to also get pulled in like a little wooden boat in a raging whirlpool.
Ricky and Penny watched it all unfold from afar as the yelling got louder and louder, until Noel couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like exploding at them, spewing words until he lost his voice. Instead, he quietly grabbed up his bag and left the room. As the door closed behind him, he could hear the voices in the room start to quiet down but will to care had left him long ago.
If anything that proved the thoughts in his head right. Maybe if he died, the world would be better.
Suicide was never something he considered. He had only ever seen it as a way Monique Gibeau, his escape from life, could die. He figured if he wanted to die, he would die on his terms, yes, but more flashy. Not because some kids were bullying him.
As he entered his house, the smell of cheap booze and cigarette smoke welcomed him. The strong smells radiated from his mother, passed out on the couch, holding an old, dirty work shirt of his father from long ago.
Noel’s thoughts were a raging cyclone as he stood in the middle. He didn’t want to die. Not that he loved his life, but the thoughts of a better, more lavish one always kept him going.
Everyone would be better off without him. His bullies wouldn’t feel the need to keep bullying him, his friends could get along, and maybe even his father would come back for his mother, like they said.
Then an idea that would shut both sides of his thoughts up. He would run away. Disappear into the abyss of nowhere and never be a burden anymore. Not to his family, or his friends and not to himself. In his twisted mindset, the pros seemed to outweigh the cons. He figured he wouldn’t need anything more than a few dollars and the clothes on his back.
Notes. He realized that a note to leave someone wouldn’t hurt. He wrote a small paragraph for his mother and another for the choir which he stealthy put inside of Mischa’s Journal.
In the early morning, Noel Gruber climbed out of his window at 1:17am and was reported missing at 5:45am.
Can the St. Cassian Chamber Choir please come to the principal's office. Ocean O’Connell Rosenburg, Mischa Bachinski, Ricky Potts, Penny Lamb, and Constance Blackwood. Please come to the principal’s office. The intercom played.
The members of the choir each sat confused in their respective classes as they packed up and walked.
“Do you know what this is for?” Constance asked. Everyone shrugged and figured it was the argument from yesterday.
“Why wasn’t Noel called in?” Ocean noticed. The rest of the choir looked on, as no one had an answer. As they arrived, they sat down in the waiting chairs and let the principal speak.
“If you haven’t heard yet, your friend, Noel Goober, has unfortunately gone missing.”
“Actually it's Gruber.” Ocean corrected, the information given to her not yet processed.
‘Happen what?’ Ricky signed, his hand gestures going unnoticed by the principal.
“Ricky is asking what happened.” Penny spoke up, her usually shy demeanor taking a backseat.
“Well children, we believe he’s run away. He was reported missing early this morning by his mother and there was a note left for ‘the choir’.” He handed them Mischa’s lyric book, with a small paper that peaked out the top.
The rest of the day for the group was challenging. Distracted with too many questions to count, they found each other in the choir room more often.
Days went by with no update from anyone. Everyone became more worried as more time passed on. Ideas of what happened bounced off the walls until they all came to a final consensus.
“We need to find him. With the school performance coming up we need all the time we have and our tenor being missing will cause a huge problem.” Ocean spoke, seemingly uncaring for Noel’s wellbeing.
“Do you have no care for Noel? All you see him for is jockey for stupid choir.” Mischa said angrily. For the past few days, all Ocean talked about was how the choir was ruined without Noel as his small solo in the song was extremely important.
“Of course I care for Noel! It’s just that with the competition, we need to keep going.” Ocean waved to him dismissively.
“No! Fuck your stupid choir and your stupid preformance. Noel is missing and we should be looking for him!” And with that he packed his bag up and left the room. Ocean called out for him but he paid no mind to her.
After deciding to go home and skip the rest of the day's classes, he hopped into his car to drive away.
Mischa caught something in the peripheral of his eye while he drove. A slight movement in the woods that, if he wasn’t already on edge, he would have missed. Could have been some wildlife around, it wasn’t uncommon for creatures to lurk in the shadows. As Mischa thought, a figure bursted through a break in the trees and ran onto the road.
Mischa slammed his brakes just before it hit the mysterious being. It ran back into the forest but not before Mischa managed to get a glance at him. A guy almost as tall as Mischa himself with a messy comb over and big, scared eyes. Noel. He was sure of it.
Mischa immediately pulled his car over and called Ocean. She answered by the 2nd ring.
“Hello? Mischa? Why are you calling me?”
“Noel. I saw him. He is in forest near Fair. Come quick.” Mischa quickly responded before he hung up.
“Noel!” He called into the darkness of the trees, hoping for a response. He wasn’t lucky enough to get one.
After walking around the forest, calling out Noel’s name with no response, the choir arrived. A ramble of questions came flying towards Mischa but he paid no mind to them. Just kept searching.
The sound of silent weeping grabbed his attention. A lengthy figure hidden well behind a tree, Mischa could instantly spot that it was Noel.
He was skinnier than Mischa remembered. In a t-shirt not suited for the cold Canadian winter with his school slacks he had just seen him wearing a few days ago, before he disappeared. He curled into a slight ball, resting his head on his knees and leaning his back against a tree.
He sent a quick text to the Choir.
(Mischa Bachinski) Found him.
As Mischa got closer, he could see the angry red marks that scratched up his arm, the way his eyes sunk into head just slightly more and the bags of tiredness that laid underneath his eyes.
The rustling of the others coming, alerted Noel. He stood up quickly, wiping his tears with his shirt before walking away.
“поет!” Mischa called out in a last attempt. He stood frozen as Mischa’s eyes bore into him.
Scared. It was the first thing Mischa saw in Noel. His usual demeanor of confidence dwindled into nothingness as he stood there, wide eyed.
Too tired to cry, Noel slumped back into the floor in defeat. He was cold and miserable and tired of running away from life. He figured no one would come to find him, so he stayed close to Uranium.
The rest of the choir emerged from the bushes only to see Mischa standing opposite of them and Noel in the middle, laying on the wet ground covered in dirt and shivering from the cold.
In the distraction, Mischa quickly shuffled to Noel.
“I am glad you are ok.” Mischa spoke, the sincerity in his voice soothed him as he finally felt something real.
Instead of bombarding him with questions. They quickly lead him back to Constance's minivan where he was covered in blankets to warm up. Ocean was the first one to make a sudden move, when she awkwardly crawled to his seat and wrapped her arms around Noel.
“Never do that again. Please. I can’t lose you.” Ocean whispered into his shoulder. The uncaring walls she had put up broke down around her. Tears sank into the blanket as she held him, afraid that if she let go he would disappear again.
Constance joined in and in a matter of seconds, everyone had shoved themselves into the backseat of the van huddled around a now very warm and loved Noel Gruber.
fin.