He sat in his booth. Observing the pattern of brown and black shades that loosely mimicked the texture of bark on a tree. He gazed at the scratches left behind by other students. Students who have long served their punishment far before he did. The name "Kurt.H" was written several times on each side of the booth, each with a different color and thickness. Pencil shavings rested in a scattered pile along the left corner of the booths desk.
The boy is stripped of all thought. Interrupted by the faint crackle of the opening door. He looks behind him to find a man he recognizes as a teacher of his current learning facility, but does not know personally.
"How're the kids doing? " The man shouts boldly as he walks in to the once so quiet room. The door slams shut behind him. The boy's head follows the man as he walks forward. He's a heavy man, with short hair and thin rows of stubble reaching from the opening of his nostrils to the bottom of his chin. The gray in his hair makes him look as though he would be bitter with age, that and the bags beneath his eyes. He wear's a white button up shirt and a black tie.
"Ya' mean kid; only got one today." Another man at a large desk says. This man seems very different in appearance. A young guy. Around his twenty's, with shaved light brown hair and pale skin. He has one ring through the cartilage of his ear. The boy thinks this is odd for a teacher to wear. He sports a black vintage pea coat, and tan dockers.
"Only one?" The heavy man turned and gazed at the boy. The boy gazed back without hesitation, studying the mans face.
"So son, what you do?"
The boy breathed out slowly and looked at the man with lifeless eyes.
The teacher at the desk answered for him.
"It was a misunderstanding."
"Oh, well, alright. I get'cha" He turned to face the boy. "Stuff happens."
He waved goodbye to the teacher and nodded at the boy, then walked out of the room. The door slammed shut.