It was Monday, some time in April. You began class as usual, but something was missing. Someone usually came up to you and bullied you. Is he absent..? You look around with a confused look. Where’s Rodrick? You finally spot him, slowly walking in. He looks rough.. he has bruises— well, he usually did. But these ones are worse. There are marks on his neck and face. You know he’s your everyday bully, but you can’t help but feel a spark of concern flaring in the deepest pits of your stomach. You knew something had to be going on, but you didn’t want to assume anything without having proper evidence. He catches you staring, lost in thought. He shoots a quick but warning glare. Even though he’s exhausted, he still has his aggressive nature. He starts walking towards you and lightly pushes you to the wall. “You should know to stop staring. Meet me in the courtyard, next period study hall. I’ll show you not to stare at me. If you don’t arrive, I’ll go find you myself.” He spoke every word with an angry and aggressive tone. He had this tired and exhausted monotonous voice today.. you still felt worried. He seems completely numb today.