Disciplinary Action/Disciplinary Office/All Over
With a massive headache you finally opened you eyes to find yourself half sitting, half falling of a big chain in what you recognize to be the headmaster’s office. Your head was killing you, but when you tried to rub the pain away, you found your hands were handcuffed to the side of the chair.
“… worry, he’s been taken care of, I assure you I’ll take care of everything,” you heard the muffled voice of the headmaster in the next room, as well as a woman crying.
The pain in your head didn’t let you think clearly, you half felt you were going to pass out again and sudden images filled your head: a girl on a table, the janitor, the headmaster, your sister and your nieces. It was all blurry, like you were dreaming.
A sudden pain spike made you open your eyes again, you were still handcuffed to the chair, but now in front of you was the headmaster, “so the animal wakes,” he spat at you.
“W… What?” you managed to say, still quite confused.
“It’s my fault, really,” continued the headmaster, “I knew what kind of sick bastard you were, but thought I could use you, tame you; so now I have to put you down, you understand we cannot let this out, it would ruin the prestige of Andre Truitt,” he looked at you, as if expecting an answer.
“What’s…? Why am I…?” you realized you haven’t say anything, what were you trying to say? You had done something wrong, that was beginning to come back to you.
“It’s useless,” said the headmaster, apparently disappointed, “take him away, I’ll make the arrangements with the family.” Only then did you noticed two heavy men standing at your side, they were actually helping you stand, when have you left the chair? One of them pulled out a cell phone, no, it wasn’t a cell phone, it was a teaser, you heard it buzz, then pain, and then darkness again.
“I still can’t believe he did something like that and then just ran away, he always confided in me, why hasn’t he called me?” Beatriz was near tears in the headmaster’s office, while the old man tenderly comforted her.
“He’s a sick man, Beatriz,” explained the headmaster with patience, “it was our mistake to bring him so close to his… addiction.”
“But he’s my brother! I need to know he’s Ok.”
“Lack of news is good news,” assured the headmaster.
Beatriz cried a bit longer, but eventually she was calmed enough to leave. The old man returned to his desk, really saddened by the young teacher’s feelings, she was like a daughter to him, and he really hated to see her suffer. He repeated once more that it was better this way, that she would be happier if she had hope her brother would return one day.
End