Last Train Home

It all started with a black eye. As time carried on, black eyes turned into blue/black bruises on his arms and stomach. Places Ryan could easily conceal. He stayed silent about them. He was positive his father didn’t mean to do it. Apology after apology. He was sure he deserved them anyways. One thing led to another and soon more bruises were added on top of fading ones.
It all started in his English class. The class assignment was to analyze an argument in Julius Caesar. It was quiet except for the sound of scribbling pencils on paper.

“Mr. Ross?”

He looked up towards the front of the classroom. Ms. Stanley beckoned him to her desk, a note in her hand.

“They need to see you at the front office.”
He threw all his schoolwork into his bag and took the note from his teacher, walking out of the door. He wasn’t sure why he was called to the office. He already met with his counselor not long ago. He never get into trouble. He had perfect attendance.
Once he got there, he handed his note to one of the administrators at the front desk. The woman led him to another room. He had never gone through this before. He was only called to the office if his counselor had to speak with him, so he wasn’t sure what was going on.
The woman opened a door for him, and Ryan walked in. It was an empty teacher’s lounge. A round brown table was in the middle, and in the corner was a coffee machine on a small table. But what caught Ryan’s attention was all the people in there that didn’t seem like they belonged in a school.
The door closed behind him, and Ryan stood there awkwardly, staring at the people that stared back at him.

“Hi Ryan!” said one of the woman, with a bright smile on her face. She seemed way too cheery, whilst the other people didn’t. “Have a seat.”

She pulled a chair out and motioned for Ryan to sit. Ryan bit his bottom lip, sitting down in the way too comfortable chair.

“So, Ryan. How are you?” The woman sat in a chair in front of him, her chin resting on her hand.

“Um..” Ryan looked uneasily at the other people sitting around the woman. One was a man with brown hair. He didn’t look like a teacher and he wasn’t someone Ryan recognized around the school. He had a brown vest on with a white shirt underneath and he wore glasses. This man looked like he belonged in a secretary or something.

The other man was standing behind this woman. He held a clipboard and pen and was writing things down onto it. He wasn’t even paying attention to Ryan.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, looking back at the woman.

“I’m Victoria, and this is William,” she said, pointing to the man with the glasses. “And this is Alex,” she adds, pointing to the man with the clipboard.

Ryan nodded slowly, already wishing to just go back to his class. He felt uncomfortable around these people.
“How are things at home, Ryan?”

Ryan bit his lip, something he always did whenever he was trying to think of something to say. Home is hell.

“Fine,” Ryan says with a shrug.

“I looked at your files and it says you live with your dad.”

“Yeah.”

Victoria nodded slowly, studying the younger boy with her eyes. Ryan was hugging his backpack close to his chest on his lap.

“What do you do when you get home?”

“Uh… nothing. Just work on homework.”

“Oh that’s good. What does your father do usually when you get home?”

Ryan stared down at his sleeves, his thumb quickly grabbing the end of his sleeve and pulling it over his knuckles, finding some sort of comfort in this. “He just… sits around, and.. watches tv..” he spoke quietly, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

Victoria nodded, looking down at some papers she held in her hands, flipping through them quickly. “What sort of relationship do you have with your father?”

Ryan bit his lip, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Uhm… we don’t have one.”

“Hm…”

Ryan glanced up at Alex, who continued to write down furiously into his clipboard. “Alright, Ryan. We’re here because your counselor called us here to speak to you. She said that, during PE, one of the students saw plenty of bruises on you and told one of the teachers here, who then told your counselor.”

Ryan sat motionless in his chair as he listened. He almost never changed in the locker room. He just changed once because he thought no one was in there. A few seconds passed and when Ryan didn’t say anything, Victoria spoke again.

“We’re going to take you down to the clinic where we work at and just ask you some more questions. We sent an officer to your house to go speak with your father. But for now, you’re going to have to come with us,” Victoria says, and stood up, gathering her papers.

Ryan shut his eyes as he looked down at his lap. He couldn’t believe this was happening. His dad was going to be so pissed off. They’re going to find everything at his house. His father drank so much. It was like a liquor store at his house. He knew he was screwed.