Rabbit

Chapter 1

Smoking was so pervasive inside the dorms at Norley-Glen, come late evening the halls grew hazy with a thick plume of white smoke. Prefects took an out of sight out of mind approach. So long as they didn't catch you, cigarette in hand, they did nothing. The residence hall only had one Warden, who slept elsewhere, and cared more about lights out by 11 then anything else. Before I came to Norely, I had been an avid non-smoker, largely due to the report that had come out a few years earlier about its link to cancer. Once I figured I was inhaling the stuff anyway, I took up the habit. I wasn't as prolific as many of my fellow students but I was thoroughly addicted now. I was particularly good at ignoring the harm I was doing to myself, even as I developed a persistent cough.

In my room we smoked out the only little window that opened, all others having been painted shut. It faced the north-west side of the courtyard, towards a lonely looking lamp whose twin was many yards away. Everything outside the buildings at Norely was green and brown, from the trees, the dirt, the buildings and our uniforms. Everything inside was white, brown or a very pale yellow. I don't think the yellow parts had started out as such, as the color only appeared in the dorms. The window provided poor ventilation, but its purpose was more a precaution should a Prefect knock. A quick flick out of it and all was well.

At the end of the school day, I would rush to my room desperately trying to reach the window first. My roommates often shut me out as they took drag after drag, often from the same cigarette. Some students opted to smoke outdoors, in the cover of the forest but it rained a great deal, and this meant trudging through the waterlogged grass alongside the field where they played endless scrimmages of rugby or football. I preferred staying indoors. On days where it became apparent my roommates were not going to give up the window in a timely manner, I would take a walk around the buildings, circling the school a few times, occasionally stopping to watch the players till I was noticed and jeered off.

I walked that day, round and round, with a light drizzle slowly soaking through my jacket. The school isn't that old, but would like you to think it is. The buildings are very Edwardian, or Victorian, giving the place an air of the old world. Most of the grounds are gated off from the forest, save for the spot directly behind the field, which stretches onward and onward before curving away from the small town some 30 miles from here. The school had been intended to house only a relatively small number of boys, 100 or so, and there were only about 80 of us excluding staff. The headmaster lived on campus, as did a few teachers, but most lived in the town down the road, all of them leaving quickly after the last bell, going home to families or who knows. When the school had been built, they had neglected to create much living space for anyone other than the students, relying on the town more than they probably should.

There was also the front gate, or really one of the front gates. There were technically two. First there was the one north east from the courtyard. This one lay in front of a circular driveway that filled up with fancy cars come the first day of school. It was the only one of the two that opened. The other, directly in front of the courtyard, was made of wrought iron spun into delicate curlicues. I'd passed by this gate some 5 or 6 times that day, noting its subtle decay. Patchy flecks of gold from faded gilding sparkled alongside the growing red from the rust. But by and large it was black, large, sturdy and well suited to keeping us in and others out. I never saw anyone use it thanks to the chains wrapped around it secured with a large iron lock. Martin, the groundskeeper, mentioned the key had been lost for some time. Had someone wanted to enter this way, there was a smaller door to the right, but they would have to be familiar with the school because this door was not visible from the outside. From the road, its view was cut off by the thick trees that lined both sides. This door was never locked. I'd seen boys open it from time to time, just to test if it still would. The door would let out a loud discordant whine, like one resentful of being awoken. It made the same noise when shut. No one had any reason to use it so it's purpose was solely this.

This is why on that day, when I saw him climbing over the locked gate, completely oblivious to the smaller side entrance, it was only natural to assume he didn't belong here. A boy, white, around my age, towny for sure. The plain clothes of the students here didn't generally include faded plaid shirts, and dirty looking jeans.

"Hey", I called out. 'You're not supposed to be here."

But he didn't stop. He quite easily scaled the western gate, completely ignoring me, then landed on the ground with both feet making a gentle thud. Without so much of an acknowledgement, he began walking south, towards the field.

"You're trespassing." But once again I was ignored.

It took only a few long strides on my part to reach him. "Hey!" I said again, as I placed my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop. I had the faintest impression of his features before I felt it.

BAM!

The hard impact of something on the side of my face.

Then the pain and a slight ringing in my ear.

I stumbled back, one hand clutching the spot, more shocked than hurt.

The second one came before I had time to react, this one landing straight on my mouth. I tasted metal, but remained on my feet. It took a second to regain my bearings but when I did I looked at him, and saw his pale eyes moving closer and closer.

I covered my face, so he went for my gut.

I don't know if it was a fist or a knee, but after the hit, the air inside me came rushing out. For a split second, I thought it wouldn't come back. It did, but so quickly I almost choked on it. I remember being doubled over, knees sinking into the ground.

A second later I found myself sprawling out on top of the cobblestone with the help of a push from his foot. I lay there facedown on the stone till a strong hand turned me towards the sky. He straddled me, his fist raised ready to strike. Standing in relief against the cold gray I saw the smile on his face. He was daring me to try something and knew I wouldn't. He wasn't much bigger than I, if at all, but he was fast, and the ache on my face and in my gut still lingered. I lay there, breathing heavily, till he decided to walk off.

The relief washed over me till the humiliation set in. I sat up with a jolt frantically scanning the area, including the windows to the school. There was no other living soul, sparing me at least that humiliation. I saw him as he disappeared behind the corner of the school and my instinct was to let him go. But I get up, much too quickly, almost falling straight back down, till I finally steady myself enough to start moving in his direction. A strange sort of adrenaline took hold. I felt it coursing through my body, all pain gone. By the time I'm at the corner, He disappears again. By the time I reach the second corner, He's moving towards the field where the game today is rugby.

Then I waited. I waited because I expected them to notice him. I expected them to notice the dingy-looking plaid, the wrong haircut, the incorrect posture, the way he swung his arms rather than making perfectly upright strides, hands in his pockets, head always slightly tilted back. I expect them to get annoyed, and hiss and jeer at the dirty faded jeans, but he just watches them play. I know I have an opportunity. I could sneak up behind him and give him what he deserves. A sucker punch for a sucker punch. Maybe then I would have the upper hand and I could look down at him with a smirk. Maybe he would try something but all I would have to do is hit him, once, twice, and he would get the message. Then I would walk away satisfied, knowing he wouldn't follow, and I wouldn't have to feel ashamed about the bruise I felt forming on my face.

The game started to die. Players peeled off and the pace slowed till there were only a few players essentially playing catch till the very last minute before we all had to be inside for curfew. The field lights had taken over a little while ago, along their periphery you saw the bugs congregate and within their illumination. I saw him start to leave, but not towards the gates. He started towards the forest.

I saw him step among the trees, then no more of him.