Albaer sat in class and tried to focus. There were about thirty other boys and girls, and the teacher, a young woman teaching English, was droning on. The desk at which he sat was a single solid unit, with the writing surface attached to the chair and a steel undercarriage for holding books for class use. Hatred burned in his heart for the desk design.

The reason was behind him, a bigger boy put his feet up on the metal undercarriage and kept tapping at it. “Do you mind?” Albaer asked with a whisper.

“No.” The bigger one, a dark haired young man with a shit eating smile on his face replied and tapped harder.

Albaer tried to ignore it. He was ‘evidently’ successful, and the one at his back didn’t care for that. For a moment the tapping on the underside of his desk stopped and Albaer had a sense of relief, the constant irritation had been maddening.

Then the pain hit.

A sharp pain in his leg. He looked down, the one behind him was leaning over, he had a thick rubber band, and he drew it back, and let go, snapping it forward and holding on to the far end. The tip cracked against Albaer’s jeans right at the calf.

“Hey, stop that.” He whispered.

The shit eating grin was back. “Make me.”

The crack came again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again, and again, and again. The pain mounted and mounted.

His mother’s words echoed in his ears, “Don’t fight, don’t fight, just be good and tell a teacher if you’re having problems.”

“Stop it.” Albaer said again.

And again.

And again.

The shit eating grin stayed in place on the face of the one behind him, and the smug little, ‘Make me.’ was whispered as a taunt.

The pain kept growing until tears began to form in Albaer’s eyes, and his ‘stop it’ came out as a plea.

The rest of the class saw. On only one face he saw horror, but that one face was part of a student who did nothing.

The teacher up at the front had paused her lecture and looked out at him, her mouth open like she knew she should do something, but one look at her, and Albaer knew the truth.

‘I’m alone.’ He realized, and wept at his desk in the middle of class while the teacher resumed and the pain continued to mount until the rubber band itself snapped and the bell rang to mark the end of the torment.

“Albaer.” The teacher called out as they all got up to leave, he picked up his books and approached, winding his way through the students, most of them would not even look at him. Alone with the teacher for at least a minute, he stood in front of her, she was slender, young and in her early twenties, not much older than her actual students, with soft brown hair and a gentle, oval face, he wanted to resent her.

But he couldn’t, angry as he was, he didn’t. He saw the reality of it, ‘She’s out of her depth. As afraid to act as I am.’

“Does Jason, does he bully you?” She asked.

In his head Albaer wanted to scream, ‘What did you just see you stupid bitch?!’

The absent resentment flared up like an inferno. An inferno he could not let out. “No…” He lied, ‘How ashamed do you want me to be?! Why do I have to say it?! If you won’t do anything while you’re watching it, why would you ask such a stupid question and believe I’d expect anything out of you if I say yes?! You’ll just make it worse!’ The rant he desired to scream at her, remained locked in his skull.

“Okay then.” She said, accepting his obvious lie and then looking away from him as fast as her head could turn.

Unwilling to see him anymore after she got the excuse to ignore what happened, Albaer walked out, rushed to the restroom, and washed his red face.

Lisa was waiting outside the bathroom when he emerged. Her arms crossed and one foot on the wall while the other was on the floor, her head was turned toward the door of the boy’s bathroom when he came out. “Hey, you OK, Albaer?”

He took one step, it was a limp. “Why do you ask, Lisa? If you’re here, you already heard.

“Jason’s not really a bad guy, he’s just… a little rough.” Lisa defended him, stepping beside Albaer and putting a hand on his arm.

He shook it off, causing her long red hair to bounce a little behind her back. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lisa. I’ve got to go. Go see your friends.” He half hissed it at her, and her green eyes blinked.

“Albaer, it’s not like that, you’re-” She said, but he put his back to her, moved to the side wall, and began to limp through the now mostly empty hall without her.

“They’re not that bad…” She said after he left her alone, and went on to her own room.

At least things were calm for the next few classes, though it was hard to hide the limp, he kept his head down, avoided meeting anybody’s eyes, and kept his arms tight into his body, clinging to the black strap of his backpack as an excuse and holding himself to the far wall of the hallways of the school to avoid bumping anyone by accident.

That didn’t stop the reverse from being done to him on purpose, even when it was mostly empty, his arms repeatedly smashed against the yellow brick of the building’s walls.

Nor did it stop the whispers, “Miss your daddy?” graced his ears time after time.

But Albaer said nothing back, his mother’s admonition to be good, be nice and not start fights, always stayed his hand and stilled his tongue.

When the bell rang for lunch there was only one place he wanted to be, and he rushed out ahead of the rest of the math students to get there early.

The library. The large double doors were glass and offered a clear view to the many rows of books on shelves that were twice his height. ‘I need to grab some things for Raziel and Lialah…’ He reminded himself and quickly ran through the relevant sections. A book on basic electronics, computers, internet use for dummies, and a few books on nutrition… and for good measure, a history book.

For a solid hour Albaer lost himself in a book of his choosing, the world he loathed was gone and the brighter fantasy was all there was. Even the pain in his leg and arms were gone.

The cool stone against his back felt comforting, the little corner in the far end of the library where he was unseen, a bookshelf to his left, a wall to his right and at his back where he could not be ambushed, it was all a great relief.

For that brief time, Albaer could smile.

But the warning bell rang, and it had to end.

He stood only slowly, the pain was coming back, and with it came the familiar sense of dread.

‘Just a few more, just a few more and that’ll be all.’ He told himself and went to the checkout counter.

“Two week delivery.” The old librarian said from behind her horn rimmed glasses, her silver hair done up in a bun, she was the stereotype of a librarian come to life.

He nodded, threw the books into his black backpack, zipped it up, and left.

A few more shoves from one class to the next, and some punches to his slender biceps which were anything but friendly, but against which Albaer could not protest, and his other arm ached too.

The last bell rang with science class, a few dozen people, the one virtue of it was that there were more seats than people, allowing Albaer to isolate himself out of reach.

‘One more ordeal, then I’m home again and free for the weekend.’ He told himself, counting the minutes and the seconds of his life away until the bell rang to allow him to leave.

The familiar game of shadow jumping began after him, but Albaer had other things on his mind. So much so that he didn’t notice the shouts “Your daddy’s dead!” for a while.

Nor did he notice that his indifference had an effect.

‘I wonder if they’ll like…’ Albaer’s thought was interrupted when he felt himself being yanked backward, his entire body spun so hard that one leg in mid step came up and toppled him off center. There was only a split second before the fist connected with his face right at the eye, and he fell hard on the concrete. He hit his elbow and yowled out at the sudden pain that lanced through him like a blade on fire.

“Ahhhh,” he rolled on his back, the pack there caught most of it, but that just meant more force on the back of his head, and for a moment everything was blurry.

“Shit! Go! Let’s go!” He heard the one who struck the blow shout out, and take off running. “Don’t tell anybody, or you know what will happen!” It was one last admonition, and as he rolled over on his side, spitting blood from where he’d bitten his tongue, Albaer shook his head.

He got up to all fours and slowly began to stand before people poked their heads out of windows in response to his scream of pain. He held his stomach and then his elbow and shouted with a shaky wave of his arm for them not to bother. “I fell down, that’s all.” He said and gave a weak smile, then forced himself to straighten up and walk as if he were fine.

‘Idiots, I don’t know what will happen, all I can do is imagine that it would be worse.’ He thought, and hobbled up to his door when he couldn’t fake it anymore.