Forrest’s heavy breaths, muffled by the tape over his mouth, were the only thing keeping him sane from the constant buzz of the corridor lights.

He can’t rip the tape off, it hurts him so, so badly, and it just frustrates him. A lot.

A pathetic whine erupted from the boy as he slumped to the ground against the wall, curling in on himself to conceal his emotions. He can’t show them, no way in hell would he, either.

He’s a man. He’s not a pussy, he’s not weak, he’s supposed to be a man.