The Juvenile

Spring

He was the funniest boy I had ever met. He had the capability to make anyone laugh to death. But the two most powerful warriors - patience and time couldn't inundate it. Now no one could hear him cracking jokes, no one heard or saw anyone bursting into laughter, to be more meticulous no one ever heard or saw him from that very day.

*intro*
While standing outside the principal's cabin along with his both parents, his brain played queer games with his heart, his brain had lost its potential to understand the muscularity of the situation. He did not grin, he did not whimper, and his mind was null and void.
With thoughts such as these, the peon jolted out of the cabin and in his snorting accent said: "you all may go in".

At one end of the cabin lay an antique table on which the aesthetic incandescent table lamp salubriously took away the murky monotonous humdrum of his cabin. The principal was a middled-aged man with gigantic round spectacles which magnified his swollen eyes and made them even more gargantuan. He was almost a dwarf and his face was full of itsy-bitsy marks which contributed to his horridness.
He asked both the parents to have seat. They both dwindled and bustled down the chair. The principal gave an outlandish look to the boy and when the boy noticed, he rolled away his eyes.
He yelped," Mr. And Mrs. Lorrentz, do you have any notion about why you two are here?"
Mr. Lorrentz  "sir, we don't, but please kindly tell us."
The principal divulged, "do you have any conception about the trouble your son has gotten himself into?"
Mr. Lorentz got infuriated and retorted, "Sir, what is this all about?"
The principal contracted his eyebrows and said " Your son, Ewan, standing right behind you has........."
He got interrupted by the awful commotion coming from the background, men's voices raised and women screaming
The peon came in with bated breath and retorted "sir, a group of journalists and cameramen are standing outside your cabin, what should I do?"
Ewan who was standing at one dinky corner of the cabin was trying to figure out the dialect of the mob. He got nostalgic and remembered what led him there, he thought if he was in his classroom he would probably be submitting his practicals or Something.
*nostalgic*
It was recess and he was busy giving final touches to his project, he was already vexed and exasperated by the juniors who were chanting and screaming using the full potential of their elastic vocal cords outside his classroom. After some time the recess came to an end and every scholar either senior or junior went to their respective classes.
The class monitor was far and wide known as an eminent school bully for all he had done. He usually spent his days  bullying junior students but today his victim was Ewan, he had made up his mind that he would somehow ruin Ewan's project and so he persisted on his mission.
This moplish guy with enormity in his mind, the illustrious school bully plodded towards Ewan.
He interrogated, "hey! can I see your project?"
Ewan obvious of his mindset didn't reply.
He asked again, "Hey, I'm talking to you? Let me see your project"
And then he started to snatch away his work.
Finding it hard to make the both ends meet Ewan indignantly articulated "let go of me, you moron!"
He paid no need heed and persisted in snatching the project.
In the process, Ewan propelled and thrust him, on this, he trampled and stumbled along a bench and went on banging his head against the wall.
Blood gushed down his temple swirling like a river in a basin. There was dead silence in the classroom, the silence spoke so much that one could hear the sanguine gushing down his head.
*outro*
"Sir........." the peon divulged

This grave note took away his attention and Ewan found himself in front of the murky old principal.

Mr. Lorrentz turned to him and asked,"is it true?"
He became a blubbering mess and in a sniveling voice "I...I.ya... Didn't do it intentionally....."
*later that night*
It was raining hard that night. In my hurry to get into Ewan's House, I didn't notice the black car parked across the street. I realized that something was wrong when I saw two cops putting handcuffs in Ewan's hands.
By all laws, it was resolved that he had to spend the years of his captivity in juvenile detention until he turned 18.

When people of his age were sterling busy preparing for their board exams, there he was sitting in one corner of his dinky dusky cell, regretting.