Those that are silent... - Naomi M-B (i want to read a book TXT) 📗

an old oak, their silver fur sleek and their tails bristling as the chattering increased. One suddenly took chase and the pair whizzed off into the rest of the tree.

“Who's that?” someone asked. Turning his head slightly, Kamitra saw an unfamiliar girl sitting with a few others looking at him. A new student judging from the fresh looking books peeking out the top of her bag. She must have arrived in the past few days ago while he wasn’t at school.

“Oh him?” One of her new friends glanced over. “That's Kamitra; you won't get much out of him though. Whenever he does come to school, he never talks to anyone. All he ever does is stare out of the window.”

“Maybe,” the new comer said slowly, “he's just shy? He could be lonely.” If he had a penny for every time he’d heard someone say that then… he still wouldn’t be particularly well off. Most people paid him little attention, it was like he was part of the background, not that he minded.

Laughing answered her words. “Yeah right! Everyone tries talking to him but he never responds just carries on staring out of the window.”

“Yeah,” someone else said, “I think he's retarded or something.” She made her voice deep and slow, “Can’t un-der-stand you!” More laughing.

Eyes down cast, Kamitra turned his head away. People thought he was stupid. Were they right? It was what his father always called him. Stupid, weak, runt, whelp, idiot, moron. That's what he was; there wasn't really any point in all of this. No point at all.

“I still think someone should be nice to him,” the new girl continued. Kamitra’s eyes widened slightly – he’d never heard someone’s voice fill with even the slightest concern when speaking about him.

There was a moment of silence then the other girls sighed. “You’re too soft,” one warned. “There’re people here who’ll take advantage of that.” She had a blue butterfly clip holding back her fringe.

As he listened, the others joined in, discussing possible dangers for the new comer. First Ren Trestan, violent and cruel, then Terone Davison, a heart-breaker who didn’t date at this school, Dean Lukason, a thuggish boy with a vicious temper, and even Satra. This last one wasn’t due to any direct threat but to the danger posed by his many bullies, namely Dean. Anyone that got close to him would suffer. Then they began to talk about a girl named Betty who spread extravagant rumours. Despite the fact he was no longer the topic of conversation, he continued to eavesdrop, drowning out the rest of registration.

The first half of the day passed without incident. Lessons flew past him and washed over him, without sinking in, morning break flashed by in a second. Finally, it was lunch. Stretching his sore legs, Kamitra retrieved his lunch from his bag and made his way outside. While they had been in lessons, the weather had warmed up. Piercing light shone down from the sun and trees offered the only shade. Head down, he took refuge beneath a large oak with splayed branches that stretched far into the air offering the largest shadow possible.

A few metres away, the group of boys from this morning’s fight were grumbling among themselves, still sore about the defeat.

“I’ll kill that cocky bastard,” Dean was saying, “He thinks he can just walk all over me. I’ll show him!”

This earned a titter from a couple of nearby girls. “Seriously?” one asked, pushing her fringe back from her face. “You’ve been saying the same thing for weeks and look what happened.” She gestured a hand toward his split lip. “I think you got off lightly.”

“Shut up!” he snapped back, embarrassed. “He just got lucky. I’ll wipe the floor with him next time!” Sulking, he whirled away from them and caught sight of Kamitra. “What you looking at?” he demanded. “You think this is funny? Huh?!”

Unable to so much as speak, Kamitra froze, breath clawing at the skin of his chest, refusing to be dragged out. Infuriated, Dean marched towards him. “You think I’m weak don’t you! You think you could take me? Huh? I’ll kill you and Ren and any other bastard who-”

“You know,” a voice interrupted, “the definition of insanity is someone repeating the same action and expecting a different result. The definition of an idiot is someone who acts in a self-defeating way. As you do both, what does that make you?” It was Satra.

While there was the possibility Dean hadn’t fully understood Satra’s words, even an imbecile would be able to ascertain the general meaning. Unsurprisingly, Dean didn’t appreciate the insult.

“Stay out of this,” he snapped, turning away from Kamitra. “I’ll deal with you later, you stinking homeless twat.”

Apparently fearless, Satra scoffed, “Aww, did I strike a nerve? Really doesn’t seem that difficult with you, Deany.”

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Dean snarled.

“Don’t like nicknames?” Satra sneered. “Deany.” With a yell, Dean threw himself at Satra. Burying his fist into Satra’s stomach, he grabbed the back of the other boy’s head and slammed it into his knee. Winded and dazed, Satra slumped, coughs hacking from his mouth. Dean locked his arm and launched him across the courtyard. Straight towards Kamitra, still frozen in fear. Kamitra was smashed into the tree beneath Satra’s weight with a sickening crack.

Pain exploded across Kamitra’s skull. Around him the suddenly dark tinged world was spinning wildly out of control. Gasping, he fell forwards, squeezing his eyes tight shut. When he opened them again, a crowd had gathered. Shouting, yelling. More people fighting. Kicks, punches, smacks.

Pressing himself against the tree, he curled up, attempting to hide from the chaos as his head pounded. Eventually, the noise began to die down. Mind racing, he sensed a chance to escape and sprang to his feet.

There was a strangled yelp as his head collided with someone’s stomach. Eyes snapping open, Kamitra glanced wildly around. At some point, Ren and Terone had gotten involved. Ren was holding Dean in a headlock while Satra leaned against the tree trying to catch his breath. On the ground was Terone, cheek bruised and now completely winded thanks to Kamitra’s head.

At that exact moment, there came the yell of “TEACHER!”

The crowd scattered. Bemused and blinking, the five boys remained where they were. With a loud and condescending voice, the Deputy Head descended upon them. As patronisingly as possible, he berated each of them in turn. First Ren, then Satra and Dean. His voice was tinged with disappointment when he turned to Terone. That vanished when he came to Kamitra. He sneered. Kamitra felt his face burn with shame. “Little kid trying to play with the big boys, hm?” When Kamitra just stared at him, petrified, he snorted. “All of you are in isolation for the rest of the day. Follow me.”

Thankfully, they were sent to the medical detention room. With multiple fights breaking out around the school each week, it only made sense that at least one of the isolation rooms had some form of basic medical equipment. Ears ringing again, Kamitra collapsed onto one of the two beds, watching numbly as the others filed in.

Dean and Satra seated themselves at opposite ends while Terone lounged across the other bed. Ren was just holding a phone up to his ear. When the Deputy gave him a look from the door, he just waved.

“Hey, Snigger, shut up,” Ren snapped into his mobile. “I know, but you were going to. Where’s Theodore?” From the bed, Terone smiled slightly. Amused at some memory. “Yeah, yeah. Oh, hey. Listen can you tell Kingsley I’m in detention? I would do it myself but I really can’t be fucked to deal with his shit today.” The double swear made the Deputy roll his eyes in disgust and leave. “Fighting,” Ren continued. “Shut up. I was actually trying to break it up… Yeah. I was. See, I was gonna stay out of it but then a certain pretty red head persuaded me to help out… Dude, you sound like you ate a frog.”

From the bed, Terone chuckled. “Tell him I said hi.”

After a moment, Ren passed on the reply. “He says go fuck yourself.”

Apparently, the two were on better terms than was to be expected. Not enough clues though. Nothing obvious to lead Kamitra to the cause of this surprising relationship. Not enough data.

Mind moving away from them, he turned his attention onto the other two. Dean and Satra. Their relationship was much simpler. No, not simple just… much more discernible. They hated each other. Yet they also saw something more in the other and that made the hate grow stronger.

What that something was, Kamitra didn’t quite know yet.

Sitting up, he winced as pain spiked through the back of his skull again. Trees hurt a lot. Undoubtedly, there would be a bruise. Which his father would-

They were going to call his father. It was a school policy. They were going to tell him Kamitra had been in trouble. There was no way he could escape this, no way to lie, to-

For a second time, his thought track was cut off, this time by the school nurse entering the room. Instantly, his eyes locked onto her. Wedding ring, curly hair bound back with pins and bands, the slightest of smudges in her eye liner. Tiny things, tiny details. Enough to drown out the rising panic.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, Kamitra looked up into the dark green eyes of Terone. Mutely, Kamitra nodded and fixed his gaze on the floor.

“It seemed like a pretty nasty knock,” Terone continued, sitting beside him. “Though, your head seems perfectly solid to me,” he laughed.

Glancing back at him for a second, Kamitra murmured, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Terone assured him. “No lasting damage. Actually I blame Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum for not being able to sort out their differences in a more peaceful way. Oh and Ren for being a terrible peace maker.”

“You dragged me into it,” Ren snapped with only a little venom. For once, the usual tense promise of violence was absent from his limbs. As the nurse approached him, he stretched his arms up letting out several resounding clicks much like Kamitra’s father-

Cracked tiles around the skirting board, peeling sellotape barely managing to keep first aid advice posters attached to the walls. Little things. Little details.

Terone was watching him. It was an odd and new experience that he wasn’t sure he liked. Close observation from this side was a lot more uncomfortable. A piercing ring tone broke the rising tension. It was Terone’s. With an apologetic smile toward the disapproving Nurse, Terone dug the phone from his pocket.

“Darling!” he chirped. “I know, I’m sorry. I woke up late and had to rush off to school. No phone calls during lessons… Yes, I’m sorry, love.” While his voice was tender and compassionate, his face was nothing but bored. “Tonight, yes, don’t worry… I love you too.” With a sigh, he hung up and looked back towards Kamitra.

Pointedly avoiding his stare, Kamitra fixed his eyes on Satra who the Nurse was tending to. Having turfed Ren from the bed, she had removed his shirt and was inspecting the blue-black splodges blossoming across his ribcage. Every once in a while, she shot a judgmental glance towards Dean who scowled in reply.

“No broken ribs,” she said at last. The stiff tension of Dean’s shoulders subsided ever so slightly. It was quickly compensated for by his fists tightly clenching and his jaw tightening.

Intrigued, Kamitra moved his attention to the other boy.

“You noticed too then?” murmured a voice beside his ear. Flinching violently, Kamitra found Terone leaning towards him.

“N-notice?” Kamitra’s voice was squeaky and wavering.

“That there’s more than animosity between those two,” Terone continued, oblivious to Kamitra’s inability to express words in a normal way.

Shrugging, Kamitra tucked his hands beneath his thighs. “Maybe.”

“It’s obvious to me,” Terone said. “I’m an expert at relationships. However, for you to notice is something else. You’re surprisingly observant.” There was a pause for Kamitra to thank him.