Prelude To Descent [Sean]
Jun 22, 2013 18:59:54 GMT -5
Post by Devon Wentsworth on Jun 22, 2013 18:59:54 GMT -5
To say Devon's first week at Hammel had been eventful would be something of an understatement. The classes themselves had been reasonably pleasant, especially considering he was a completely new face taking over the art studio right near the end of the school year. Really, there couldn't have been a much more awkward time for his arrival, but at least it gave him a flavour of the way the school ran and the people within it before classes began anew after the summer break. A nice, easy, gentle introduction to the new country, the new system and the new students.
That had been the theory, anyway.
The archaic phrase was 'bad things always come in threes' and for the Brit this had certainly proved to be true. On his very first day exploring the school that irritable lad in the art studio had dropped and broken another student's work, shattering it into a dozen pieces before proceeding to bleed out. Sadly, in hindsight, Devon should probably have counted that as his gentle introduction for what was to come. The child that had turned into cement and passed out in the studio had been a true shock to Devon, something that he had never seen before even during his years at Kocher. He had been fascinated by the boy's ability, but that fascination had turned into panic when he had realised just how utterly out of his depths he felt. Three years teaching in a rough public school in Reading could never have prepared him for that.
Yet even that was not what was causing the deep worry that had been burrowing its way into his mind, that was leading his Converse-clad feet down the corridors towards the office of Hammel's psychiatrist.
Sakiya Min. That one brief interaction with that one student could quite possibly determine the entirety of the rest of Devon's life. He wasn't even supposed to have been in on that day, was simply covering for a meeting that the previous art teacher had left hanging, and yet it had proven to be one of the most dramatic meetings of his life so far. Devon had read the girl's file later that day, once he had taken the time to calm himself, and he knew he had been played. Bribery and manipulation were things he was well used to experiencing, hell, he'd even utilised them himself before now, but that... that was a whole new world of messed up. That was a literal mind-fuck that had left him feeling utterly confused, ashamed, embarrassed and terrified.
Devon had seen students try to pull some really nasty stunts to try to snag a grade they didn't deserve, but never before had it been this potentially devastating. What if she had been stronger? What if he hadn't been able to fight it off? What if someone had walked past? What if... What if...
He knew that he could very well get fired for this. Hell, he could even go to jail for this. What jury would believe a thirty year old man over his innocent-seeming child pupil. He doubted that, even in this day and age, 'she magically roofied me' would be a viable testimonial for a teacher to make, even if it was the truth.
Don't pick up the soap, Devon.
It had been a few days now and he had tried so hard to find some way of rationalising what had happened, but he couldn't. Devon knew he had to tell someone what had happened and put his fate, and his future, in their hands. He had heard rumours that the psychiatrist was psychic, and so that was where he had decided to go, booking a meeting for after classes on Friday afternoon. Devon wasn't entirely sure what the psychiatrist would do, but hopefully if the rumours were true, maybe there would be at least one person who could see the truth of what had occurred in the art studio. What happened after that, he guessed, would be up to the man on the other side of the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, Devon knocked.
Here goes everything...
That had been the theory, anyway.
The archaic phrase was 'bad things always come in threes' and for the Brit this had certainly proved to be true. On his very first day exploring the school that irritable lad in the art studio had dropped and broken another student's work, shattering it into a dozen pieces before proceeding to bleed out. Sadly, in hindsight, Devon should probably have counted that as his gentle introduction for what was to come. The child that had turned into cement and passed out in the studio had been a true shock to Devon, something that he had never seen before even during his years at Kocher. He had been fascinated by the boy's ability, but that fascination had turned into panic when he had realised just how utterly out of his depths he felt. Three years teaching in a rough public school in Reading could never have prepared him for that.
Yet even that was not what was causing the deep worry that had been burrowing its way into his mind, that was leading his Converse-clad feet down the corridors towards the office of Hammel's psychiatrist.
Sakiya Min. That one brief interaction with that one student could quite possibly determine the entirety of the rest of Devon's life. He wasn't even supposed to have been in on that day, was simply covering for a meeting that the previous art teacher had left hanging, and yet it had proven to be one of the most dramatic meetings of his life so far. Devon had read the girl's file later that day, once he had taken the time to calm himself, and he knew he had been played. Bribery and manipulation were things he was well used to experiencing, hell, he'd even utilised them himself before now, but that... that was a whole new world of messed up. That was a literal mind-fuck that had left him feeling utterly confused, ashamed, embarrassed and terrified.
Devon had seen students try to pull some really nasty stunts to try to snag a grade they didn't deserve, but never before had it been this potentially devastating. What if she had been stronger? What if he hadn't been able to fight it off? What if someone had walked past? What if... What if...
He knew that he could very well get fired for this. Hell, he could even go to jail for this. What jury would believe a thirty year old man over his innocent-seeming child pupil. He doubted that, even in this day and age, 'she magically roofied me' would be a viable testimonial for a teacher to make, even if it was the truth.
Don't pick up the soap, Devon.
It had been a few days now and he had tried so hard to find some way of rationalising what had happened, but he couldn't. Devon knew he had to tell someone what had happened and put his fate, and his future, in their hands. He had heard rumours that the psychiatrist was psychic, and so that was where he had decided to go, booking a meeting for after classes on Friday afternoon. Devon wasn't entirely sure what the psychiatrist would do, but hopefully if the rumours were true, maybe there would be at least one person who could see the truth of what had occurred in the art studio. What happened after that, he guessed, would be up to the man on the other side of the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, Devon knocked.
Here goes everything...
