I'm not sure where to start, this is more than a little strange, more than unbelievable, even I'm not really sure it happened.
It started as just a normal day at college, registration, Yes Sir, no one noticed the gulf of silence as his name was called, from class to class he was absent. I had to partner with someone else in chemistry, an hour and a half of zesting oranges to produce half a thimble of some kind of oil or another, no idea what it was and didn't care.
On to the common room for an hour of shooting pool, beating the 'in' kids who thought they were bullet proof on the table, staring at the few girls allowed in the sixth form who were so far out of reach to the majority of us.
Then to Art class, another still life arrangement that never seemed to change, different fruit, a new vase, a different coloured drape. Then the call. One of the prefects from the year above, a piece of paper, the middle aged art teacher (the type you kind of lust after but you're not sure why), my name called. First thought, what the fuck have I done now?
Let's get this sorted right now, despite reports to the contrary I wasn't the ringleader of a bullying campaign against a certain pupil, he was just a bit of a twat who always started it and didn't appreciate me giving it back add good as I got, that'll be the council estate boy in a school of toffs syndrome I adopted.
Anyway, I was marched into the Heads office and was met with a roomful of my peers, a real mix, from the geekiest of the geeks to the sporty lot, and every kind of pupil on the spectrum in between. I couldn't be in trouble could I, not with this lot? Then walked in the Head and his deputy, then nothing.
He was gone. A bridge, a train and gone.
I looked around the room, heads bowed, others stared into space, disbelief, shock. Words were being said, a letter, a girl, had we spoken to him, Samaritans, counselling, take some time, forget classes. Thinking back still gets me, tears well but never come, was I the last to speak to him? Was he planning it as I said goodbye for the weekend? I'll never know.
I left the office in a daze. Walked across the playing field to the common room, a group of us in the know towards the unsuspecting, like a murder of crows swooping on an innocent prey, I imagined myself surrounded by an aura of silver, armour if you like, to protect me from the deluge of questions which were already being formulated as gossip started to circulate. Chris Campbell approached me, he was from the same village, but he was from the posh side of the tracks, a bit of a smart arse, always sneering at me, the last person I needed heckling me. The rage boiled. He didn't deserve the beating, I'm sure as hell he wasn't expecting it from me, but there was never any retribution for it.
The bell rang, an assembly was called encompassing the whole college and the connected school where we'd all started out. Mr B the biology teacher put his hand on my shoulder, I looked at my grazed knuckles, the kind words, don't worry you don't have to go in, but I would. Put on the brave face, know what was coming, watch those blank faces of people who had no idea of who he was, still don't now.
