The evening shadows stretched long over the yard as Mr. Harris and Mr. Thompson returned, accompanied by the boys who had been involved in the earlier incident. The mood was somber, and the tension in the air was palpable. The sky had darkened, casting an almost foreboding atmosphere over the mansion and its grounds.
Mr. Harris, his face a mask of stern disapproval, marched directly towards Michael. With a firm grip, he untied Michael from the tree, the ropes falling away as Michael's limbs were released from their constraints. Michael's skin was marked with the stings and bruises from the nettles, his body bearing the visible evidence of his earlier punishment.
Without a word, Mr. Harris dragged Michael towards the punishment room, a place that held its own grim reputation. The room was stark and utilitarian, with a few pieces of basic furniture and various implements for discipline. It was designed to be a place of reflection, but its purpose was clear: to enforce the rules and maintain order.
Mr. Thompson, waiting inside the room, instructed Michael to strip completely. Michael complied, removing his remaining clothing with a resigned expression. The cool air of the room was a stark contrast to the stinging nettles that had marked his skin. As he stood there, exposed and vulnerable, Mr. Thompson's gaze was unwavering, his expression serious.
"Assume the position," Mr. Thompson commanded, indicating a spot in the center of the room.
Michael took his place, positioning himself as directed. The position was uncomfortable, but he accepted it without complaint. His body still bore the marks from the nettles, and the stings were a constant reminder of his recent ordeal.
Mr. Thompson approached him, his voice calm but firm. "Michael, I need you to explain why you did what you did. Why did you beat Mason and Lucas?"
Michael met Mr. Thompson's gaze with a steady look, his resolve unshaken. "I felt like they deserved it," he said simply, echoing the explanation he had given to the other boys. "So I beat them."
The room was silent except for the soft murmurs of the other boys, who had been gathered to witness the proceedings. Their presence was a stark reminder of the communal nature of discipline within the house. They stood in a semi-circle, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. This was part of the routine: when someone was being punished, all of the boys had to watch, reinforcing the collective accountability and the gravity of the situation.
Mr. Harris, his face lined with frustration, glanced at Mr. Thompson. "Michael, you've shown a blatant disregard for the rules and for our authority. This kind of behavior is unacceptable."
Mr. Thompson nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving Michael. "We need to address this firmly. The consequences of your actions go beyond just physical punishment. They have disrupted the harmony and respect that we expect from everyone in this house."
Michael remained silent, accepting their reprimand with a stoic demeanor. He knew that despite his feelings about the situation, he would have to face the consequences of both his actions and his defiance.
The other boys watched in silence, their expressions ranging from curiosity to discomfort. This was not just about Michael's punishment but about reinforcing the rules and maintaining order. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with the weight of their collective responsibility and the acknowledgment of the consequences that came with breaking the rules.
As Mr. Thompson and Mr. Harris prepared to proceed with the next steps of the disciplinary process, Michael stood there, bracing himself for what was to come. The evening had turned darker, and the sense of impending resolution hung in the air, marking the continuation of the difficult journey for Michael and the boys.
To be continued
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