The End of the Tunnel
Chapter 4
-Mistaken Truth-
"A mistaken truth is not always a lie."
Lancer kept a very steady, firm eye on the freshman. The boy was smiling and it would look convincing to the naked eye. Lancer's eye, however, was well trained and keen. Most of his students thought he missed some of the things they did or the emotions in their young, vulnerable eyes. Many of them held cheerful feelings such as pride from a good grade or glee from an upcoming slumber party. Perhaps a birthday, a boy (or girl but this particular emotion mostly applied to the girls in this school), or something as simple as a new friend.
Daniel used to have it all. The Manson girl, Sam... He used to be extraordinarily cheerful around her. And his other friend, Mr. Foley... Why, he seemed such an important part of the trio. Normally they were great friends; honest, loyal, and protective of one another. To be put bluntly, they were like family. And what an amazing family they made. If they all looked the same, it would be easy to believe that they were triplets despite their completely different personalities.
But now...now Daniel was pushing them away. Whether it was purposeful or accidental, the teacher didn't know, but point being he was slowly straining that friendship. He had always considered that kind of bond unbreakable but now it made Lancer wonder whether or not that bond really was that tight. He couldn't help but think that maybe the boy had a fight (or even was still fighting) with them.
The boy smiled all through class...all through school...all through everything... But there was something about that smile. Not only was it forced, but it was definitely there to hide something. It was his mask, his disguise. He wanted everyone to believe he was the same person he used to be when in reality, he was much, much worse.
This poor boy had declined over the months. Keeping a steady C was shocking to Lancer but at least it showed he was studying, resting, and eating. But now... The teacher sighed heavily. His grades weren't just slipping, they weren't just in the toilet; they were frightening. Now, combined with the cocktail of his obvious starvation and deprivation of sleep (or any form of rest, on that note), it was clear that there was a problem so much bigger. He hadn't been able to place a decent finger on it yet, nor did he come close to it. But he did have ideas that kept forming in his head; each thought brought more intricate details as to what exactly was happening to the once shining star that was his pupil.
As he watched Daniel move from one class in the hallway, Lancer briskly walked out and put a stern hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Daniel," he said stiffly. "I need to talk to you."
The freshman's shoulder was boney and he could literally feel every bone connected to it. The scapula, the clavicle, and everything else (including the very feeble muscles). And it was more than enough to scare him. This child had so much potential at one time; now he had nothing, not even a spark, a glint of life. He looked so fragile; about as delicate as a leaf in autumn. It was so extreme that Lancer refused to tighten his grip for fear that Daniel could crumble apart at any moment.
"Yes, sir. After school?" the boy said.
Said student's voice was scratchy and dry, a giveaway that he was badly dehydrated. Thankfully, Lancer always kept a small stock of water bottles in a cabinet so he wouldn't have to interrupt his work to get a drink. Daniel needed one far more than his teacher.
"No," Lancer said, his voice still stiff and unwavering. "Now."
The teacher put a gentle hand on his pupil's back and led him slowly into the classroom. He had to walk slow so the child could keep pace with him. He was just that lacking in energy.
"But, Mr. Lancer, my next class...!" Daniel protested.
Lancer shook his head calmly and said, "Don't worry about it. I'll be sure to inform your teacher of the reason for your absence and give you a slip. If any trouble should rise, it'll be entirely directed to me."
He drew up a chair in front of his desk, sat the boy down, and dug into his cabinet to hand him a bottle of water.
His eyes, no brighter than they were yesterday, fell on the teacher and Lancer began the conversation once he saw his student chugging it down; half the bottle was already empty.
"There's something very troubling going on, isn't there, Daniel?"
The boy could only swallow in return.
That action was all that was needed to confirm Lancer's suspicions.
"I already have so many ideas in my head right now, but I'm afraid I can't figure this out myself. Now, your father-"
The boy tensed quite noticeably at the mention of his parent.
Lancer cleared his throat and took a mental note of what he'd just seen.
He continued. "Now, your father (at this, Daniel tensed again) was informing me of your strange behaviors yesterday when I came to check on you. He said your mother...well, he said she passed away. I know for a fact that you've been depressed lately-"
"N-No! Mr. Lancer, I'm fine! I just...I need a little more sleep," he panicked. "I swear, I w-won't be tired tomorrow, I-I'll get a lot of rest like you told me to, you know, to make up f-for yesterday, and..."
The teacher didn't listen to him ramble on about how he was going to get sleep, he promised. No...it was the way he spoke that got Mr. Lancer's attention. He was stuttering on words that normally one wouldn't stutter on. That was a sign that something was happening. There were already so many signs that Daniel didn't even know he was showing and this simply added to that endless list.
"Daniel," Lancer cut him off. He let his voice soften several octaves before continuing with, "Is there anything you want to talk about? Anything you need to talk about?"
The freshman rapidly shook his head.
Adrenaline, the teacher noted. He was inwardly starting to panic, which meant Lancer was on the right track.
"Are you sure?" he pressed. "If this is about your mother, I can arrange for a therapist to come in and-"
"NO!" he screamed, shocking Lancer silent. "I...I mean...a-a therapist seems a little extreme...that's all..."
Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he replied, "Then, Daniel, let me ask you a few questions. Are there any other children involved?"
The boy's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Sir...?"
"A gang-related problem, Mr. Fenton?" he clarified.
"What? N-No, that's not it- W-Well...I mean, there aren't any problems to begin with, but..." Lancer smirked in triumph as his student became unable to complete his sentence. Yet another sign of trouble.
"Is it peer pressure? Stress? Too much work? I can assign less if this is what it's doing to you," the teacher offered.
"Oh, no, no, not at all! If you can, I should probably be assigned more. I need to pull up my grades; I know they're not very good."
"Smoking, Mr. Fenton?" Although to be perfectly fair, there was no trace of nicotine in the entire building, let alone this one young boy.
"What? Of course not."
The boy shifted and Lancer assumed he was getting close. "...Drugs?"
Daniel moved his eyes, looking at everything and everywhere but in his teacher's direction.
"Daniel, is it drugs?" he repeated.
This time there was fear in the boy's eyes, as though he had been cornered before being caught in a trap.
The last thing Lancer wanted was for this child to feel imprisoned in his classroom, but something had to be done.
"Daniel, I'm still waiting for an answer. Are you ingesting or inhaling any drugs? Maybe even through method of injection?"
He noticed how much his student's breathing had escalated. It was another sign...but unfortunately... Unfortunately this meant that his idea was right. Daniel was on drugs, which perfectly explained his behavior, his weight loss, his thirst, and his restlessness. His depression was probably caused by both his mother's death and "coming down" (as the kids say it) from the drug.
"What are you taking?" he asked softly, trying to encourage his student to tell him at least that he was on drugs.
The boy's body began to tremble and he grew paler than his new "normal" skin color.
"Danny?" For Daniel to become so squirmy meant that he had guessed correctly.
The boy's head shot up and he looked his teacher in the eye. "I-I think I should go."
"No, stay seated. I won't judge you no matter what the answer," he assured.
Tears were soon threatening to spill from Daniel's eyes. Too choked up to speak, he only shook his head.
"Daniel, please," the teacher tried. "Please just tell me what's going on."
He only shook his head again, this time more vigorously.
"Will you tell me if I promise not to tell anyone?"
The freshman looked at him and his lip quivered. He bit it in an effort to keep it still. In turn, it left an opening for his ragged breathing to be heard.
"I can help you," he said tenderly.
There was a reason a boy like Daniel would be on drugs. It wasn't peer pressure; he was never into popularity of sorts and always set higher standards for himself than that.
"D-"
Lancer's words were cut off by several broken sobs. Daniel dropped his head into his hands, defeated, and shook violently.
"I'm sorry!" he cried. "I just...I-I...I...!"
Lancer was quick to run to the boy's side to comfort him as he began hyperventilating.
"I-I'm sorry...! I...just...! I cou-couldn't...t-take...it anymore...!" he gasped out.
"Take what? What couldn't you take?"
"Mine...! My... It was... It was my...mine...! I did...it...!"
The freshman brought his head from his palms, giving Lancer the chance to see endless tears cascade down his face, not unlike two miniature waterfalls.
"Okay, okay, Daniel, look at me," the teacher said somewhat calmly. Staying calm was easy when one of his students all but admitted he was on drugs, then started hyperventilating while talking jargon. "Breathe, Daniel, breathe; it'll be okay."
The boy weakly stood up, still gasping for air, and tried to make it out of the room.
It all but terrified Lancer when he suddenly collapsed halfway to the door.
The teacher hastily ran to his aid. His breathing was already evening out, which meant he hadn't tripped. He was unconscious; Lancer had never had anything like this happen before.
But he needed to be more careful around the boy from now on, at least until he got off whatever drug was being repeatedly introduced into his system. He could pose a dangerous threat if that drug made him do something wild out of rage. However, that never seemed to be the case. All it seemed to be doing was further depressing him. It seemed as though he was the only one to be affected by it; he had certainly never shown any hint of a threat to the student body... He would be kept under a careful watch, but not expelled. There was a reason he was on drugs. Something bigger was happening than just this.
Right now, though, it looked like the boy had merely given in to his lack of sleep and dropping weight. He would be fine with some rest and now that Daniel was finally asleep, it was important to let him stay that way.
Lancer didn't dare move the boy for fear of waking him. Instead, he turned off all the lights and closed the blinds. He turned off his computer screen and sat back in his desk. He couldn't have Daniel running off when and if he woke up; there was still too much he didn't know. On top of that, this boy would be forced to eat under Lancer's watch. Just one apple would be enough, so long as it got anything in his stomach.
It was actually hard for the boy to do either. He was too tired to eat and too hungry to sleep. At least his body finally chose one of the two.
