Red Room

4

Said and done. Freaky landed in an orphanage located near Stockholm.

If that wasn't one of the country's best institution designed for care of children like him, then which one could be? It was the capital, everything in there had to be raised to the superlative, like anything that belonged to the most important city of any country.

However, the boy didn't understand the high standards of his new home. He didn't see anything else but what it really was- a building crowded with people, just as the other institutions like that.

Therefore, he continued to isolate himself from everybody. The things he had been through lately made him lose his entire trust in people, so he became even more distant than before.

The markings his near-death-experience had left on him were starting to show when he not only refused to start a conversation, but also held back from replying to anyebody. He couldn't stand around anything that meant fire, knives or forest and didn't want to eat anything he found bizzare. One would simply label him as 'depressive'.

The people working there had been warned that the trauma he had suffered might have affected him more than he let them see, but they never really took that into account when getting in contact with him. Their goal was to place orphans into families, not heal their disorders. Besides, they couldn't treat every little one in there according to his disabilities. They were too many for that. Neither could they apply a different treatment to one or two of them because the rest would start feeling neglected. All in all, every child was forced to overcome his issues alone and get ready for life outside of the orphanage's walls.

And of course, the rest of the inhabitants had even less empathy for their newcomer. But what could one expect from a child who was too young to understand what a trauma was? The adults on duty didn't even care to explain them he was sick. Their minds only got the message that he was behaving weirdly.

Like any other community mostly populated by youngsters for the most part, bullies had their place there too. Caretakers may have made the rules while on duty, but in their free time, it was the strongest boys who had the respect. One was wether with them, or against them. Whoever went for the second option wasn't the smartest person alive.

Freaky was somewhere in between. He wasn't that interested in them, or in any other one who shared the building with him. As long as they'd mind their business, he'd let them be as well. But to his dismay, he was their business for the moment. Every newcomer had to learn who was the boss.

"Hey, Trauma!", one of them called behind him. He was fairly tall and fat.

It didn't take that one long to force the respect out of his commerades. Only a few good beatings were enough to inflict fear in the others.

The loner knew he was shouting out to him. As good as none of the orphans believed his background story and, together with lots mean laughter, it brought him the nickname 'Trauma'.

However, he refused to answer. Whatever he'd say, it was sure to bring him a round of bullying. So, it was better not to say a word at all.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!", the bully insisted as he turned the weaker boy around forcefully.

He was not going to give up until the outsider would look up to him when they'd pass each other. But this weirdo refused to talk no matter what.

"Hey! You mute?"

Still nothing. That was when Tough Guy'd had enough of the silent countering. Couldn't he get his message across through words, then he had to use violence. He grabbed his opponent by his shirt's collar and raised him up to his own eye level.

"Do you even fucking hear me?!", he growled.

Trauma nodded obediently. Maybe he should have just spoken after all.

The bully threw him down and gave him a push a little bit under the chest area, so that he fell on his back- exactly where he'd been burned. The 'victim' lost his calm immediately. That was all he accepted to take.

A fight began. As small and skinny the bullied one was, he surely had some strength stored in those fists. He mostly aimed for the tough boy's mouth and stomach.

Other children gathered around too, but there were no chants about whose side they were on. Everybody was sure the strange kid was going to lose in the end, but they were also happy that he managed to hit the boy who'd been terrorizing them eversince he arrived to that orphanage.

The bully started to curse and yell. One of the caretakers had to hear him in the end. Then, he could throw the entire blame on Trauma.

And things escalated that way. The caretaker on duty showed up a few minutes later. It was a calm-looking man in his mid-thirties and had the qualifications of a teacher. He wasn't the type of person to lose his temper soon, but when he did, whoever pushed his limits regretted that.

"What happened here?!", he shouted, shocked and upset.

Everybody froze. The audience looked at him cluelessly. They hadn't been there for a long enough time to be able to explain what was going on.

"You go away!", he commanded to the watchers, "It's them I want to have a word with."

In a matter of moments, the mass of children disappeared. Now left alone, he could fix matters with the two fighters without having to deal with the mean side jokes of the others. Those would inevitably pop up afterwards anwyay.

"What happened here?", he repeated the question, lowering the tone because he didn't have to make his presence noticed anymore.

Both boys started yelling their own sides of the story at the same time. The caretaker didn't understand a thing.

"Boys.", he spoke, "Calm down and take turns. I'm going to listen to both of you if that's what you're worried about."

The bully was the first one to speak, neglecting his counterpart's attempt to say something, "The psycho simply jumped on me and started punching me!"

"No!", said psycho shot back, " I was defending myself, I swear! He begann-"

"Did not, you prick!"

The adult mixed in, "Let him finish!"

Being re-given the permission to speak, the smaller boy resumed his story, "So he's been picking on me and I didn't wanna argue with him, but he insisted and then hit me where I was burned!"

"Like shit have you been burned!"

The caretaker seemed to be on the bully's side from the moment he heard of the burn. He was sure the outsider was making things up.

Tears gathered up in the victim's eyes. The pain brought by the fact that he had nobody by his side felt even worse than the one brought by the blow to his already damaged torso.

With a trembling lower lip, he raised his shirt upwards to reveal a rather large burn mark going from his chest to his abdomen.

"Look!", he cried and ran away sobbing.

That was maybe the hardest slap across the face the man had received from reality in his life. Pity struck his soul deeply because the poor child was always by his own self and guilt struck him even deeper because he turned out to be no better than the bully next to him.

Turning to the other boy, he sneerer, almost hatefully, "I'm gonna make sure to have you punished after finding a solution for that poor little guy's problem."

Then he left.