{This story contains themes of systemic corruption, emotional abuse, retaliation, and institutional failures. It is also the sequel to Hours. However, this story also explores sensitive topics, including sexual assault, mental health struggles, and violence, which may be distressing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.}
"What do you think you are? A vigilante? Do you just imagine yourself walking down the streets at night, beating up criminals? Are you off to go save a city!? Do you imagine yourself as that?!" The dean screamed, her spit splattering against my brow and sliding down my face.
"With as much respect as possible, that isn't true. All I did was report a serious crime, he sexually assaulted those close to me, you have proof and a confession from him, so why am I being punished?" I asked back, not bothering much to protect myself from the accusations. They were absurd as it was.
Just a few months ago there was a student, his name was Sam Nester. He had gotten away with sexually assaulting two of my friends, I reported him for it and even showed up to deliver my proof so the school would look into it.
Instead of looking into it, they punished me for speaking out. Within a day, I was suspended for confronting him about it and was permanently punished via police escort from class to class. Why? Because I'm a "threat."
"If you EVER bring this up again Liam, you will be expelled for causing a disturbance. Do you have any idea, any at all, what kind of problem you created!?" She shouted again, moving her face closer to mine. I could smell the sardines on her breath as her disgusting spit dripped from my chin.
"How is that fair! He hurt other students and there's evidence he did it to more!" I countered, unable to hold back the anger building within me. How was it fair? I was to be punished, threatened, almost held at gunpoint, all for reporting a crime?
I had reported it to the counselor the year prior when I first learned of it, yet she shrugged it off. Instead of looking into it, she reported me to the Dean for disrupting the school and causing "Hysteria" among students.
"That doesn't concern you, now does it? That's a school matter, not for someone like you to stick your nose in Liam!" As the words left her tongue, flashes of me standing up and slapping her went through my head, but I held back. Even if she deserved it, I couldn't, I would be punished.
As usual, everything was to be pinned on me to prevent the favorite students from facing repercussions for their actions. She had done it plenty of times before, considering it's easier to pin it on a single student than a bunch of them.
"If you ever. I mean EVER. Tell any students about what happened, or if this is brought up to me again, you will be expelled and the police will be called on you. Do I make myself clear?" She asked, her eyes wide with rage.
I nodded, not wanting to say another word. No matter what I could say, it would only make it that much worse.
She pointed toward the door, and I left the room, biting my tongue as hard as I could. In the end, all that happened was it was pinned on me, and I had earned a fresh two-week suspension.
'They're covering for him, you know,' A voice in the back of my mind said, and I knew it was true. Even after countless students the year prior reported a teacher for sexual harassment, sexual assault, and even giving out aphrodisiacs, they still didn't fire him.
So what happened next? A female student took her life because of him, he had abused her and left her for dead in an alley, not even half a mile from the school. She died that night, and her brother discovered the truth after finding her diary.
Was he fired? No. The next day, the boy and his father showed up at the school, kidnapped the teacher, and executed him in the very spot he violated the student. What did the news have to say about it?
"Breaking news: 18-year-old student and 36-year-old father execute teenage daughters' teacher after he gave a bad grade!" The school covered up almost the entire incident, they even went onto the news and claimed he was a good man.
'I know,' I finally responded to the voice, shaking myself out of all the memories that filled my mind. No matter what happened, the school never dived. They had a long, perfect history, never even having a smudge on that record.
I shivered and rubbed my mits together, it was going to be a cold winter, or at least that's what it felt like. I had earned myself a suspension anyway, it didn't matter regardless.
I let out a sigh, pausing in the snow, and checked my phone. It had been only a day ago the survivor of the Gispellen school shooting took a stand, although he had a lot to say, most of what he said, the points he made, were neglected. 'I wonder, if I reach out to him, would he help me try and stop this?'
Without returning to the thought, other than a quick scoff, I continued my walk to my home. 'It's been a while since you died, Andrea. I promise, when I can, I'll solve this. If the police won't help, the news ignores me, then I just have to find another way,' I thought, wiping a tear off my cold cheek with my warm and fuzzy gloves.
'You know... The darker route will get you an instant result,' The voice from earlier muttered, although I almost listened I kept walking. My therapist warned me not to answer it, or entertain the voice at all.
'Make it so they have to listen, create something so big that nobody will stand in your way, Liam,' It said again, a sinister edge creeping in. I had listened far too long, letting it control my every move before, but this time, I could resist.
I got home and threw my backpack on my bed, before letting out a long sigh. "How will I explain that me chasing this, chasing justice, got me suspended again?" I asked myself aloud, closing the curtains and turning on the television.
Much to my surprise, it was right there, live coverage of Alan Andrews and his second speech. 'No way,' I mumbled, sitting up and looking at the screen. This was it, my solution. If I couldn't do anything with the law. Then I would do it on my own, I could document everything and build a case so strong they'd have to listen.
"How many of us must die, before you step up and fucking do something? That's all." His final line spoke to me, jutting a feeling in my heart I didn't know still existed, hope. I knew what I had to do, I had to end this, once and for all.
If some kid could end a shooting on his own, some kid could take the stage and talk to millions, then I could settle this. I could get justice for all of the victims, no matter what I had to go through. And I knew exactly where to start.