Silent Cry (BoyxBoy)

Thirty-Three

"It's him," Mitchell murmured, shaking in his seat. Just staring at the man who walked in made him almost see his entire life flash before his eyes. His hands curled into fists as he realized that everything he had worked so hard for was going to be destroyed. He watched every move the man made, noting each step he took and the confidence built into them. Mitchell hardly felt his nails digging into his soft palms and it wasn't until he felt Ethan's fingers gently brushing his thigh that he calmed down. And even then, it still wasn't enough to keep Mitchell from panicking. His throat was closing up, tears threatened to form in his eyes, his face was pale from distress as scenes from his past clouded his mind. He tried as much as possible to focus on the gentle rub of Ethan's fingers but his eyes could only focus on the man who stood in front of the class, shoulders up, as though the world was his.

What was he doing here? How did he get here? How did he even land the job? Why was no one doing anything?

The man scanned the room, looking at each student carefully until they landed on the boy who shared his DNA. Then he gave the boy a beautiful smile, showing a set of white pearls that made all the girls swoon. A smile that didn't quite reach his narrow eyes but only a very observant person would notice. The light in the room made contact with his sapphire blue eyes, making them sparkle. It was no news that he was very handsome and he prided himself over that fact. But only two people in this class, to his knowledge, knew who he really was.

"Good afternoon everyone," his deep, baritone voice echoed on the four walls of the classroom, making the students stop their mumbling. "I am Rodney Hilton, your new English teacher, you may call me Mr. Hilton," he stated, eyes narrowing at each of the faces.

Mr. Hilton? Mitchell thought. That's not his name! He wanted to shout. Why was no one doing anything?

"Hi Mr. Hilton," the class echoed in return. Ethan only grunted in response, his face etched into a frown and unwilling to give the man the time of day. Mitchell on the other hand was still uneasy. He wondered how the man could still keep his cool even after seeing him in the class.

"I'd like to get to know you all and I'm assuming, you'd like to know me as well?" Mr. Hilton asked and many of the girls raised their hands, wanting to ask him questions. Mr. Hilton just gave them one of his charming smiles.

"How about, each of you mention your name and age and what you expect from this class and when you're all done, I'd tell you something about myself," he explained and many of them nodded, agreeing. "Okay, why don't you start," he said, pointing to a dark skinned guy in first row.

"I'm Deondre, I'm seventeen and I really just want to pass the class," the boy said in a bored tone. Mr. Hilton nodded, annoyed at the tone the boy used but made sure to keep his face devoid of any expression. He then nodded to the girl seated beside him.

"Hi Mr. Hilton," he squealed, rocking on her feet, her blonde hair bouncing. "My name is Arnell, I'm sixteen years old and I hope that you'd be able to teach us the art of writing and finding beauty in the English language."

"Nice to meet you Arnell," the man smirked at her, "I hope I deliver to and beyond your expectations."

He moved on to the next person, and the next, going on in that fashion until he finally reached the little blue eyed boy at the back of the class. Mitchell who cannot find it in himself to move or even speak.

"Mitchell, is it?" The man asked. "Do you mind telling us about yourself?" When Mitchell didn't answer, he walked towards the boy's desk, placing his arms on the table.

Mitchell is flabbergasted at this. He was now so scared, and shaking. He didn't know what to do. The man who abused him for years was standing right in front of him and no one was doing anything about it.