Holes in The History of The Universe

2: In Which There is an Accident Involving The Space Time Continuum

Trigger warning: Bullying, minor homophobia, and it will be implied that a character incorrectly assumes another character is attracted to a minor.

"Can you believe him?" It was far later in the day, and Samuel's clique was sitting in the school's courtyard, waiting for their parents to arrive to take them home, "I was just stating the obvious and he blew up at me, what an asshole."

Another boy rolled his eyes, looking quite disinterested, "yeah, what an asshole," parroted he.

The third child of the group, changing the subject, pointed across the courtyard, where two girls sat perhaps a bit too close to each other on a picnic bench, holding hands and talking quietly, "Look, there are those weird lesbiens."

Samual nodded, "caught in the act, want me to get them?"

"Yeah," + yelled the first excitedly, and he ran off across the concrete brick ground, his bright red trainers slapping against it with a satisfying clamp. He kept going as fast as he possibly could, until he didn't think he could've stopped even if he wanted to, and then, he found himself leaning just a bit too far forward, and clambering to the ground in a cloud of dust.

He sat back up with a groin, slowly forming himself into the kneeling position, and clumping the pale brown material in his hands. He frowned, the school's courtyard was completely covered in grey, concrete brick, there weren't even any plants along the edges, the presence of any dust other than perhaps a bit of lint from clothing or the classroom was impossible. He lifted his head slowly to the autumn sun and looked around the simple garden which now surrounded him, closed in by a gate formed from bunches of sticks tied together. The area was attached to a hay roofed cabin, which had a variety of tools and baskets leaning against it, proving that there was someone currently living there.

He stepped through the gate and made his way to the side of the house, where a short, yet steep hill formed a small cliff, separating the area he was in from the rest of the village. Samual sunk down into it, and shimmeyed his way around to get a clear view of what lay in front of the house.

It appeared to be some sort of medieval town, for people walked about in simple brown and tan clothing, many with livestock walking behind or in front of them, and just living their daily lives. Now thoroughly frightened, Samual climbed back to stable ground and darted to the garden, but while sinking down to catch his breath, a gloved hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" It spoke far more calmly than one would expect, and in perfect Gaelic. He turned to see a figure only slightly taller than himself, dressed in thick brown robes, complete with a rather goofy looking cloth, bird shaped mask covering his head.

"I was..." Samual paused to gather his thoughts, he had learned the language from his father, who came from a very old patriotic family, and after the man died of cancer when Samual was ten, his mother had forced him to continue, now with the help of his grandparents. He hated it, no one cared about dead languages, and to a secondary school aged boy, it simply wasn't cool. "Nothing," he eventually decided on.

"Don't lie to me, now if I may ask, what are you wearing?"

"Oh, uh," he looked down at his black school blazer and dress pants, complete with a machine embroidered patch of the school logo, and rubber soled shoes. "Yeah, if it's any consultation, your clothing looks pretty stupid too."

"Well it's better than falling horribly ill, you should learn to respect your elders." The man allowed his hands to glaze over the print on Samual's shirt, and then let it fall back to his side, now seeming far more concerned than angry, "you will be accused as a witch in that clothing, it must be burned."