I think back to a lesson Mr. Cooper taught me, when he held me after the bell, not saying it, but writing it in a letter, telling me we had to talk. So, I stayed back and listened to what he had to tell me, which was. “Peter, so how are you getting on?” I remember hating this question, he knew how I was getting on, but I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. Then he asked, “Read any new books?” I had wanted to tell him of all the new books I had read over the week, which was one a day. I had no one to talk about books with, besides my baby sister, who couldn’t even talk yet. I didn’t wanna admit that it had gotten this bad. I just nodded telling him some kid's books that I had checked out from the library. He smiled, thinking he had gotten through to me, then said something that not even now, I could forget. “You know you’re my favorite.” I looked up with wide-eyed shock, wondering if he was lying or just trying to make me feel better. He raised his eyebrows, “Now don’t go telling anybody I told you that, but you remember our first assignment?” I nodded, my head feeling like it would fall off if I hadn’t stopped when I did. “You were the only one who answered honestly, from the soul.” He said dragging the word ‘soul’ out like it was too cool for school. He continued, “The others were just boasting, but you Peter, you said it passionately, I respected that.” I was in shock, I had never been anyone’s favorite, nor my mother’s or dad’s. Mr. Cooper patted me on the shoulder and told me, “it does get better, life I mean, and it’s pretty rad being an adult, you can practically do whatever you want.” I wondered at that time what I would be like as an adult.

“M-my da-dads the sheriff, and h-he’ll kill you if you harm any of us.”

The shaking voice brought me back to reality. It was Billy Thorn, two seats ahead of me, and the next person to present themselves, I had completely missed what happened to Clyde’s presentation if he did one. He was crying face in his hands, while Billy tried to berate the man, so I assumed it hadn’t worked out for him.

“Sheriff Thorn? You mean” the man said, gently guiding the hammer down Billy’s full puffed-out cheeks and under his burly double chin. The hammer's silvery handle, slicked with dried blood, a different shade of red than Billy’s cheeks, which were full-blown cherry color, the same shade of Mr. Cooper's car, the one he took me in near the start of fall break last year. “let me guess” He said pulling the hammer from Billy’s chins, then mined it like one of those old cartoons where they hit their head over and over to remember something lost. Then in a fake sprout of eureka, he followed with. “the apple does not fall far from the tree?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Billy’s hands were visibly shaking, and a part of me was relieved to see this monstrous child be so downtrodden, but still he was a child like me, he didn’t deserve to be berated, like I never wanted to be. From behind them, I could tell the act Billy was putting on was a façade, and not a very good one, he was trying to act tough like his father would, or at least that’s what my father said, ‘whole line of rotten egg headed bullies’ I laughed and felt renewed when he had told me, but that never lasted, the relentlessness that was Billy overcame even my spirit. But, seeing him like this, I was conflicted, my heart wanted to feel for him like I had wanted him to feel for me, but I yearned to see him get put in his place, just not like this, no one deserved this.

“So, you think daddy would want to know what a piss baby you were today? Should we send him pictures of it?” Billy’s face reddened more than a tomato, his face looking like it would burst, a sausage overheated, heat pouring out its overheated creases. I followed the man’s eyes down beneath Billy’s chair, where a pool of piss sat stagnant and glistening off in the morning light. Billy’s whole façade cracked, and he started to sob, like the rest.

I looked to the front door, hoping for another teacher to come in and see us, or even another student, but this was one of the classrooms out in the open, for anyone to come in and invade, a trailer by itself, two classrooms used by one class, and it was us. The rest of the students sat still in their seats; their eyes glued on us.

“So, Mister Thorn, what do you have for us today?”

“S-screw you” Billy shouted, his voice mixed in with sobs, the other whimpers of those around us.

The man sighed and waved the hammer around, like a magical wand, then brought it down with so much force, that we all flinched, like thunder crashing after a bright lightning flash. The hammer didn’t hit what we initially thought, it only crashed against Billy’s desk. Smacking against it in such a rough manner that the middle of the desk had a faint black, maybe red, scuff. Billy fainted, which caused some of the girls to scream, thinking that Billy was either taken out or injured. As if a reflection of the mild scream, the man whipped around, pointing his hammer towards them all.

“The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he’s in prison” the man poetically spewed this out.

We all watched as he walked back to the teacher’s desk, and grabbed ahold of Mr. Cooper's limp hand, parading it around like a hand puppet. “Howdy students, you know today’s lesson of the day. Let’s get to know each other. Hyuck hyuck” he laughed outrageously loud, then moved the hair out of his face, like he was enjoying himself, then he pointed out. “Who’s next?”