His eyes had gone distant, his face pale and drawn. He blinked several times, as if trying to clear his vision.
"I… I don't know," he said, his voice trembling. "It feels like my mind is blocked. I'm having a hard time distinguishing reality from fantasy. One minute, I'm talking about steak and history, and the next, I can't remember if they were even real."
Bobby's concern deepened at the sight of his friend's distress. In his mind, he wondered if Jude had indeed witnessed his wife's death, and that trauma was preventing him from fully remembering. He sat down on the edge of the cot next to him, his gaze focused and determined.
"Jude," he said, his voice firm but empathetic, "I believe you're in trauma, and your brain is trying to shield you from something terrible. But we're going to get through this, you and I.''
Jude's eyes glistened with tears, his lips trembling as he struggled to find the right words. "Bobby… thank you. Thank you for believing in me. Because I do not believe in myself right now"
***
June sat, a solitary island amidst the sea of students in the lunch hall. Despite her outward calm, a deep ache of loneliness gnawed at her soul. She had resigned herself to this new reality—a pariah in the eyes of her former friends.
When Melissa approached her, her face lit up with a spark of hope. "Melissa," she said, smiling, "Hey, I didn't expect to see you here."
But the malice in Melissa's eyes and the smirk on her lips told a different story. And then she unleashed her venomous words. "How does it feel being the daughter of a murderer?" she spat, her tone dripping with vitriol. "What are you still doing in our school? You should be in some penitentiary or something!"
Her smile faded and her heart sank. She knew this was coming, but it still hurt. She picked up her fork and poked at her food, trying to focus on eating, but her eyes stung with unshed tears. "I'm not a murderer," she wanted to scream. But she knew it would fall on deaf ears.
With a dramatic huff and a flourish, Melissa dropped her tray of food with a clatter, demanding for attention. She continued, "You make everyone in this school feel unsafe. Who knows what you're capable of?''
June sat stoically, refusing to rise to Melissa's baiting, and the vitriol only intensified.
"You know, one of the school cats was found dead this morning. Who knows if you could have been the one who did it?" she sneered, her face twisted in malice. "You make this school a scary place, and if no one else is going to say it, I will—you need to leave, June."
The angry accusations echoed in the crowded lunch hall, leaving a hush in their wake. Melissa continued her attack, digging deeper into her already tender wounds.
"So tell me," she mocked, her eyes flashing with cruelty, "how does it feel waking up without a mom, huh?" The words were like shards of broken glass, piercing through June's armor of stoicism. She winced, her hands clenching into fists.
Melissa's voice was now dripping with syrupy, sickly sweet condescension. "I can tell already how it feels. You look like a total mess," she continued, her eyes raking over June with disdain. "Your hair is all tangled, your clothes look like they haven't been washed in weeks. Did you even brush your teeth this morning? Honestly, it's like you don't even care anymore."
The pain was visceral, shooting through her like lightning. In a split-second decision that she knew would cost her, she snapped. A feral scream tore from her throat as she pounced on her like a cornered animal, pulling her hair with such force that it felt like she might tear it right from her scalp.
"Just leave me alone!" she screeched, oblivious to the chaos erupting around her as the other students shouted and scattered. "Leave me alone!"
It took what felt like an eternity for a teacher to finally intervene, prying her off Melissa with great difficulty.
—
She sat stiffly in the principal's office, a mask of contrition plastered on her face, but inwardly relishing the momentary relief that came with unleashing her rage. Standing by her side was Beatrice, her arms crossed and her expression thunderous as they waited for the principal to address them. The air in the room was thick with tension, the silence almost palpable as the three of them sat there, each lost in their own thoughts and feelings.
The principal cleared his throat, breaking the silence. His face, an impassive mask, shifted from June to Beatrice. "As you know, Ms. Hawthorne, we cannot allow violence in any form on school grounds."
Beatrice's jaw clenched, her lips thinning into a tight line. "I understand your concerns, but you must also understand the situation my niece is in. Ever since her father's arrest, she's been through hell."
The principal's voice remained even, almost detached. "Regardless of June's personal issues, her actions cannot be excused.
''She assaulted another student," he continued, his words like a hammer striking an anvil, "and that is a clear violation of our school's code of conduct. We cannot turn a blind eye to that, even if we sympathize with her plight."
Beatrice's voice grew colder, as icy as her demeanor. "You should also be aware of the circumstances surrounding June's father. I'm sure you're aware of the rumors and the gossip that have been spreading like wildfire."
"Yes, Ms. Hawthorne, I am aware.'' His gaze flickered between the two ladies, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes before his resolve hardened.
"Given the circumstances, I believe the best course of action is to suspend June for one week. During that time, I hope she'll have the opportunity to process her emotions and come back with a clearer head."
Beatrice's lips twitched, the closest she came to a smile in the entire conversation. "I trust that will be a satisfactory conclusion."
The principal nodded. "Then it's settled."