Oliver's head slowly dropped onto his folded arms as the teacher's voice faded into noise. Numbers on the board blurred, chalk scraped softly. In his sleep, he was no longer in the classroom.
He was floating.
The skyward wide and pale blue, clouds drifting beneath his feet like soft pillows. There was no pain there. No noise. No laughter aimed at him. Just quietness.
"Oliver Montero,"
The voice cut through his dream like a sharp bell.
"Oliver, wake up."
His eyes snapped open. The room was suddenly too bright, too loud. Thirty pairs of eyes turned towards him.
Mrs Hawkins stood at the front of the class, her arms crossed. "Sleeping in my class again?" She asked, not unkindly. "Stand up!"
Oliver obeyed without a word. As he pushed his chair back, a few students gasped.
Water dropped onto the floor.
A laugh broke out, then another.
"What is that?" Mrs Hawkins asked sharply. "Oliver, what's under your desk?"
Oliver looked down. His chair was soaked. The back of his trousers were wet. It looked exactly like...
"I didn't.." his voice trembled. "I didn't do anything."
Heat rushed to Oliver's face. His ears burned. He wished the floor would open and swallow him whole.
Mrs Hawkins raised her hand. "That's enough."
She walked closer, crouched and touched the chair. Her expression changed immediately.
"This is water, " she said. Then she straightened and turned slowly. "George... Alejandro."
George leaned back in his seat smiling. "What?"
"Stand up , both of you.."
Alejandro rolled his eyes, but they obeyed.
"You will follow me to the office," Mrs Hawkins said coldly. "Now!"
"What? Why?" George protested.
"Don't test my patience."
As they left, George glanced back at Oliver. His smile was gone. His eyes promised something else.
Mrs Hawkins sighed and turned to the class. "Everyone, open your books."
She paused, then looked at Oliver gently. "Go to the restroom and clean yourself up"
Oliver nodded. He grabbed his bag and hurried out, his head down.
The final bell rang too soon.
Oliver packed his things slowly, hoping that, if he waited long enough, they would leave. But when he stepped into the hallway, a hand shoved him hard against the wall.
"Think you're funny?" George hissed.
Before Oliver could speak, a fist hit his stomach. He doubled over, gasping.
Alejandro laughed. "Look at him. Always quiet. Always weak."
They dragged him toward the back restroom -The one no one used.
"Teachers made us clean this place," George said pushing him inside. The room smelled of bleach and old water. "So , you'll do it for us"
Oliver shook his head.." Please....I didn't tell on you."
George punched him in the face. "You don't talk unless we tell you to."
They threw a mop at his feet.
"Clean."
Oliver wiped blood from his lip and picked it up. His hands shook, but he said nothing. He never did.
Because Oliver had learned something a long time ago.
Silence hurt less than fighting back.
And no one ever came to save him...