In the back of the boarding school classroom looking out the window, conditioned now to avoid looking at the faces around her, her name is Claire. Accosted by her teacher, she involuntarily directed a glance at him. On his face she saw, as she knew she would, a cold, white, mask. It was grafted around his mouth and eyes, like cement. In disgust she looked away sharply, out the window again, and after, around at her peers. None of them seemed to have noticed it. But then, they all had matching masks as well. She settled her gaze back out the window, and though the teacher grumbled he relented. She considered at least listening to the teacher, but knew he wouldn’t say anything worth hearing, so she decided against it. Eyes gazing out the window, part of her mind drifted back to the past, on how she ended up here.
- - -
She grew up like any other girl, with kind parents who cared for her. Hers had masks of course, cold and white, but they’d always been there and so she was used to them. However, as she entered kindergarten, she noticed none of the other children had masks themselves. It perplexed her as she’d been raised until then in the company of adults, all of whom were clad in masks, just as her teacher was now.
She progressed through kindergarten and life as any other girl would, she made friends and enemies, enjoyed herself at times and threw wild tantrums at others. Things progressed for her as they would for any other girl, until second grade.
Relationships between boys and girls became a slight focus. Members of her class would tease one another about liking members of the other gender, and the teased would deny it vehemently. As this progressed, she noticed masks forming over their mouths. Soon, her classmates who had intermingled between genders refused to even look at the other gender, and she saw mask form over their eyes. When she entered third grade, everyone else in her class had masks of their own like the adults. No matter how much she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t see one on her face, though.
Alienated without a mask of her own, she began to distance herself from her classmates. As time passed, she made it to fifth grade. Different from any other girl by now, she was friendless. Of her own accord, but still, friendless. She was indifferent to her class, and they were indifferent to her. However, this may have played to her benefit, as bullying had become an issue. Her classmates alienated each other for differences in clothes, difference in hair, any number of reasons. They pushed them around; kept them out of games, refused them a spot at lunch tables. She approached some of those being alienated, recognizing the bullying occurring, hoping to help, perhaps bringing the issue to adults who might help mend their relationships. However, in talking, she found that those being bullied had begun to blame themselves. As they told her such, she noticed their masks thickening on their mouths and as they walked away she saw them thicken over their eyes. As fifth grade drew to a close, she began to realize the reason for the masks appearing.
Entering sixth grade, the seeds of disgust sprouted within her. People who actively refuse to see and speak the truth… masks form to protect them from it. The children who blamed themselves for being bullied refused to see the truth that the bullies were at fault, and refused to speak out that they were hurting and had done nothing wrong. As people close themselves off from the truth the masks form as a representation of that fact. She still had no mask of her own.
Her parents themselves bore masks, and having done so in all of her memory, they began to disgust her. When they praised her it rang hollow, as they looked upon her accomplishments she knew they did not truly see the effort she put in or the success she achieved. As sixth grade drew to a grim close she harbored a strong desire to get away. Classmates ignoring the truth disgusted her, but having parents who did so as well, parents who could not appreciate her successes or truly scold her failures, made her suffer deeply. It was then that she made a ploy to go away to a boarding school, a venture in which she succeeded.
- - -
That led her to now, just after the start of tenth grade, staring out the window. The seeds of disgust had well and truly grown in, and she had no close relationships with her peers or her teachers. She listlessly moved through the remainder of her day, like she did every day, for the small measure of relief she felt when she finally returned to her room. Alone, without any masks, she enjoyed a small sense of peace as always.
As she woke up the next morning, disgust was her only companion, the same as every day. However, as she sat in her seat and locked her gaze out the window, her first class started off differently than normal. The teacher announced that there would be a new student joining their class. As he ushered the new student in, Claire turned her gaze in their direction, if only to see the thickness of the new students mask.
However, to her complete surprise, as he introduced himself his smiling face was not obscured by a mask. “Hi, my name’s Drake. Like a dragon, hehe. Nice to meet you all.” These were the first words Claire had ever heard from someone above the age of eight who didn’t have a mask.
She spent her day as normal, except that she hoped she’d somehow be able to find a reason and a way to talk to Drake. This hope came true later in the day, as she was walking to her room. She passed a boy’s bathroom, and two taller boys, likely seniors, walked out, followed seconds later by a smaller boy, likely a freshman, who ran out yelling at whoever was left in the bathroom. Shortly after the smaller boy Drake walked out the bathroom, muttering, “What the heck is his problem…?”
Seeing this as a good chance, Claire approached Drake and asked, “What happened in there?”
Drake answered, sociable and friendly even though this was the first time they’d spoken to each other, “Well, I walked in and two bigger guys were pushing around a smaller guy. It was pretty rough, not friendly, y’know? So I stepped between them and told the bigger guys to shove off. I’m not sure what that little dude’s problem is, I was just trying to help.”
Claire thought back to the mask she saw on the smaller boy, and answered, “I think… he blames himself for that. He probably thinks you getting in the way made it worse, like they’ll get him harder next time when you’re not around.”
Drake frowned and shook his head. “He should report that, or stand up for himself, or both. He can’t have deserved that.”
Claire replied, “I agree. But he’ll have to decide he isn’t the one at fault, first, and I’m not sure he can do that. Denial is a fearsome beast.”
Drake chuckled, “Hey, that’s pretty funny. I don’t think I got your name yet.”
“My name’s Claire.”
“Nice to meet you Claire, my name’s Drake.”
“Nice to meet you, Drake.”
They parted after their introductions, but Claire thought that they would probably become friends as time went on. As she went to her room, on that day she had a felt at piece as normal, but also a slight happiness, that there was at least one other person that doesn’t distance themself from the truth.
Early on the next day she noticed a scene she had expected. The taller boys from yesterday were shoving around the smaller one, right in the hallway. Back and forth, over and over, they were passing him between each other like a toy. Claire looked on, not knowing what she could do to help. At that very moment, Drake burst onto the scene. He decked one of the two bullies, who fell from the force of his surprise punch, and the other bully helped him up and they waddled off like thugs who’d just been bested.
Drake looked to the boy who’d been bullied and helped him off the ground, saying, “I can be here to help you until you can help yourself, if you want me to.”
Claire saw then something she never would have expected. As Drake helped the boy up and said his piece, the boy’s mask faded away. It melted, almost as if it had been hit by a wave of fire. The boy then said to Drake, “I… I would like that. Thanks.”
Then, amongst the many seeds of disgust, for the first time, a seed of hope sprouted. Claire had always viewed the masks as being permanent, a proof that the bearer had forever closed themselves off in denial of the truth. But no longer, not after seeing what Drake had done. She thought of what she might do with this knowledge, and she decided she would talk to Drake about the masks and what she’d seen him do. Maybe, she thought, together we could change the world.
