The Hollow Days

My fist exploded with pain as I punched Tyler in the face. Hard.

But I didn’t care. He deserved it for everything that he was, and the big lie he portrayed to be. But my little moment of accomplishment vanished when he got back up, shakily, but he did.

“You little faggot!” He growled and swiped his leg under mine, making me crash into the ground. I howled in pain as he kicked me in the gut, and then the head one time. I couldn’t hear the class anymore, and the last thing I saw was Emma’s horrified expression before jumping to my feet and grabbing Tyler by his shirt collar, driving my fist right into his face again, and again, and again. I couldn’t stop, there was something so gruesomely satisfying about seeing his blood splatter the tile floors with each blow. His head was moving back and forth with each punch like a rag-doll, and still I couldn’t stop, because for once, I was actually in control.

Or not.

I was pulled back by my shirt and thrown into the hall as the cheering sea of students came into view, and that ringing silence disappeared. I was out of that haze of rage and now reality was snapping back at me like a rubber-band. Mr. Landry ordered me to go to the principal’s office, and I headed off towards it with my head hanging low. I couldn’t stop thinking about Emma and whether I scared her off or not. I couldn’t have been that terrifying, because after all I’m just a depressed boy, like Tyler said. At least I know I’m not weak.

My feelings of victory were suddenly gone as I sat down outside of Mrs. Goodborne’s office. She was nice, probably the nicest person on the staff in this school, so it baffled me that she couldn’t even hire qualified teachers. She was a tall woman of color and always looked nice. She dressed so professional, and talked that way too. The only difference is she actually talks to you like a human being.

“Elliot?” She pokes her head out of her office, beckoning me inside. I try to swallow my pride as I stand and walk into her office, sitting uncomfortably in those chairs that feel like sandpaper against your bare legs and arms. My principal folds her hands together and looks at me. “So do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I shake my head. “Would it matter if I did?” I ask in a bitter tongue.

“Well, –”

“Well, no, it wouldn’t. Why? Because it’s my word against everyone else’s,” I point towards the door in exasperation, “and quite frankly, I don’t have the power to go up against that. And no one ever hears his filthy mouth, or his words.” It’s true. I surprise myself by even saying all of this to someone, especially my principal. But it was coming out of my mouth like word vomit. This was utterly unfair.

Mrs. Goodborne sighs. “Well, this school goes by what they see, not what they hear. Now listen,” she says when I roll my eyes, “I’m going to try to give Tyler more, but I don’t know if I can do that given the circumstances, alright?”

I nod. “So what is going to be for me?”

“Since this is your first offense this year, I’m going to give you only a week.”

Only.

“So go get your belongings from Mr. Landry’s classroom and come right back up here. I’m going to have to call your mother.”

I hold in my groan and walk off back into the hallway, towards my Chemistry class. I couldn’t believe this all was even happening. I walk into the classroom and silence fills the air. It was most likely the loudest silence I’ve ever heard. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Tyler wasn’t there, so I imagined they were taking him to the nurse or even the hospital, but I could see the blood still on the floor and images began to flash through my head of me punching him, and his blood spewing from his nose and mouth and pooling onto the floor. I walked towards Emma and picked up my backpack, and tried not to look her in the eyes but I just simply couldn’t help it as she grabbed my arm tightly.

“Elliot.” She whispers urgently. I look up into her big brown eyes, and it killed me that they looked so sad. “How bad?”

“One week.” I murmur back, my eyes fixated on her own as they grew larger in sadness. She looked like a begging puppy. I squeeze her hand and try to smile, but as usual it turns out as a grimace. “Call me tonight okay?”

She smiles sadly and nods as she lets go of my arm. I saunter out of the classroom and back into the principal’s office. I pause in the doorway however when I see my mom sitting in one of the seats in front of Mrs. Goodborne’s desk.

“A week?” My mom asks incredulously. She huffs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Then looks to me. “You okay, honey?”

My mouth fell open. “I uh, yeah, I’m fine.” I scratch the back of my head and look down sheepishly. After a few more minutes of talking, we were on our way. We were silent as we walked towards her car, and some of the way home. I was beginning to realize that maybe the reason for my music wasn’t to drown out people, it was to fill the void of people not talking to me. Which was utterly depressing, like this whole day.

“So why exactly did you and that boy get into a fight?”

I look at my mom quickly and then look ahead again. “Because he said I killed Cyrus.” I clear my throat at how awkward the statement sounded coming out of my mouth. “They all say that.”

“Are they retarded?” My mom makes this weird expression, widening her eyes and shaking her head.

I had to smile at this. Leave it to my mom to be the one still using politically incorrect terms at her age. “I don’t think they actually believe that.”

“Well of course not, that defies the facts. It was all over the news.”

I look out the window and lean my head back. “They just choose to ignore it.”