MERRY CHRISTMAS!

It's a shame that the Christmas chapters will be out once winter is over but never mind. I hope that you all enjoy the holiday time even if you don't celebrate Christmas. Eat lots of food, watch good movies, and read great books!

'I call thee, at this fearful hour

To thee my feeble voice I raise.

Say, does compassion never glow

Within thy soul, and bid thee know

[...]

Think'st now my wavering fickle mind

Requires so much, to break her chain?

Alas! what earthly joys can bind

The wretch, who sees thy figure Pain!'

~ To Pain, Anne Bannerman (1800)

Chapter thirty-one - Pain, pain, making me insane

Kathleen leaned against the wall outside the office, trying desperately to hold back the tears which threatened to cascade down her cheeks. Taking deep breaths in and out, she slowed her heart rate and concentrated on erasing the barrage of emotion and memories which were running wild through her mind.

She could see it all now. The first time she had seen the cupboard, her confusion when her strict but always kind Grandfather explained that bad children needed to be punished properly. She recalled with crystal clarity the blinding pain and her screams when he used a thin paddle on her for the first and only time. All because she had lied to him about breaking an antique that he had explicitly told her not to touch. Kat remembered the vicious argument which ensued once her parents found out what her Grandfather had done. Her father's shaking hands and her mother's tears while they comforted her younger self were a memory she could never forget. More recently, she thought of her little brother coming home unable to sit at the dinner table after getting the cane at school. Her parents had frowned as he shrugged it off as no big deal despite the grimaces on his face with every movement. It was wrong, a deeply unfair part of the despotic establishment that Keating had been giving them the tools to fight.

Now one of her closest friends was in there. She had left Charlie to face the wrath of powerful figure alone. Kat couldn't explain why she ran in there like that, or why the thought of him suffering hurt her so much. The whole situation just felt wrong. Shaking her head, she pushed off the wall and began the journey back to the boys' dorms to wait with the others. Her pace increasing as she heard the first thwack through the door.

XXXX

"He's been ages," Neil repeated, glancing at his watch for a third time, "how long should this take?"

"Twenty minutes max," answered Fraser from his doorway. "The answer won't change, Perry. Take the damn thing off already."

Todd took a step sideways, sliding along the wall to bump Neil softly with his shoulder, and prompting an exchange of small, nervous smiles.

Kat watched them from her position, cross legged on the floor with her back against the wall opposite them. She had been rather taken aback by the crowd awaiting Nuwanda's heroic return. Somehow, she had ended up in a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Fraser about their impending dinner arrangements. Talking to him required energy and as far as Kathleen was concerned, she badly needed the distraction. All conversation had faded from the corridor as time passed, with anticipation gradually seeping in to take its place. Knox was pacing, and Pitts was stress eating the crackers he had liberated from the kitchens. They were a reward garnered from a successful distraction mission which he had dragged Meeks along on a few minutes ago. The short trip to kitchens had stopped their individual quarrels with Cameron, who had stalked off to the library in a strop.

"Charlie!" Neil perked up, causing all heads to turn in the direction the tall boy was staring in.

Kathleen shot up from the floor, almost head-butting Fraser in her haste.

"Careful," he muttered, but she ignored him, choosing instead to dart over to Todd while Neil headed over to greet to his friend. They all watched Charlie walk serenely towards Neil, albeit rather stiffly.

"You get kicked out?" Neil stepped back when Charlie swatted his helping hands away.

"No."

"Come on, what happened?" He followed his friend to his door, ignoring the swarm of nosy onlookers forming around him.

Charlie opened his door and stepped into his darkened room, turning back towards the lightened corridor to say, "I'm to turn everybody in, apologize to the school and all will be forgiven."

Knox inhaled sharply.

"So, what are you going to do?" Asked Neil, "Charlie!"

"Damn it, Neil. The name is Nuwanda," he smiled, shutting the door on the curious crowd left in awe on the other side.

XXXX

"It's been two hours!" Kat slammed her cards down on the table, "someone should check on him."

"His pride had been hurt," Meeks said, "leave him for a bit."

"More than his pride," she protested, "you haven't seen the cupboard of cruelty!"

"Ace," Knox put his corresponding card down in the centre, choosing to continue with the game. Kathleen thought it must win top prize for the most mind-numbing card game in history.

"He always wants to be alone when he's in a mood," Neil said, inspecting his hand of cards.

"That's why someone should see how he his," she ignored the game, "It's been ages and he's almost as social as you, Neil. Anti-social and Charlie in the same sentence is an oxymoron."

"See, if Charlie was here," Meeks pushed his glasses up his nose, "he would call that nerd language. Just act like he is. I'll help you pretend."

"Who wants their turn," interrupted Knox, "since Kat clearly isn't playing."

Todd looked between Neil and Kat, "it has been a while..."

"I guess," conceded Neil, "but I don't want to risk worsening his mood further."

Exasperated, Kat threw her cards into the middle. "If none of you cowards will go, I will."

"Cowards?" Squeaked Meeks.

"Yes, cowards," she teased as she stood.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Knox warned, "I'd want to be alone if I were him."

"Then it's a good job you're not," she called over her shoulder, walking determinedly out of the room.

The boys shook their heads as her figure disappeared from view.

"I suppose if anyone can get through that thick head of his, it's her," sighed Neil.

"But she hasn't got that concept through hers," muttered Pitts, "this is painful to watch."

"Can't we say something," Knox shuffled the cards Kathleen had abandoned.

"Nah, best not to get involved," shrugged Neil, winking at Todd, "these things have a way of sorting themselves out."

XXXX

Kat knocked.

"Enter if you must," called a deep voice from inside. She pushed open the door, letting her eyes adjust to the dim, glowing light which spilled into the room from the burnt orange sunset creeping in through the open window.

"It's me," she said softly, closing the door behind her.

"Oh. Come sit down." He shuffled closer to the wall, still laying on his front. He pushed up on his elbows, turning to face her. Tentatively, she perched on Cameron's bed with her legs folded underneath her.

Nuwanda arched an eyebrow, "Cameron will kill you."

"Cameron is having a strop in the library, he'll never know," she countered.

"When isn't he," came a muttered response.

"We were all a little stressed," she defended, but the grin on her face and her tone of voice contradicted the words.

"Sure," he replied. His tone equally as sarcastic.

Pulling a loose thread on her jumper, she avoided his eyes in the following silence, half-regretting her decision to come, and half-wishing that Cameron was in the room yelling at her to stop crinkling his sheets. Cameron could likely distract from anything if he was given the right topic to moan about.

"Are you...alright?"

"Me?" She looked up, startled. "I should be the one asking you that question."

"Well, that would be stupid," he snarked, "I've just been cruelly beaten."

"Which is why I didn't ask," she smiled, "at least your sarcasm is intact."

He laughed, looking almost surprised by the action.

"What I meant to say is that I'm sorry. For shouting at you, I mean."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged, "it's fine."

"It's not fine," she disagreed, shaking her head. "I maintain that you were being stupid. However, screaming at you doesn't help. Even worse, I made Nolan angrier."

"Has he spoken to you about what happened in the office?"

"Not yet. It's fine, he'll probably pretend it never happened."

"Liar."

She sighed, "then I guess we'll have to see."

Charlie nodded, silent for a moment. "You were right, y'know. All of you - and I'll kill you myself if you repeat this to anyone other than Neil or Todd."

"Nancy?" She negotiated.

"Fine," he stated, "but my words are not to be repeated."

"My lips are sealed," she promised.

"Right, well I-I didn't think they would question me taking the blame or try to pressure me into giving names." He confessed, "I don't think I was even thinking, to be honest." He bit his lip, "I knew you tiptoed around Nolan but the way he treated you in there, hell. I didn't know the ice was that thin. I could have gotten you removed and it would have been my fault."

Kathleen opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to find the right words. Instead, she looked away from his pale face. His words were sincere, but his voice was laced with pain and somehow her insides ached. The strength of his anguish hurt her, she realised with a jolt. "You didn't mean to," she managed to say, "but please think before you do something so bold. One day it will end badly."

"I know," he replied quietly, staring down at his hands. "I don't think I'll be at dinner."

"Okay." She let him change the subject and stood up to leave. "Thank you. And I'm sorry about Nolan. He shouldn't have done that, it shouldn't be allowed."

"It's not your fault," he mumbled, watching the door swing shut behind her for the second time that day. Ignoring the burning pain, he stretched over to his bedside table, opening the top draw to retrieve a worn, brown notebook. Taking care that none of the loose sheets fell out, he pulled it towards him, pulled out the pen and flipped it open to a clean page. Using his hands to drum a beat on his wooden bedframe, he began to chant under his breath.

"Pain, pain, making me insane..."

By the time Cameron returned to the room after dinner, Charlie was in his pyjamas under his bedcovers with the lights out, refusing any attempts at conversation. Instead, he lay in the darkness ruminating about his newest poem. If he couldn't speak the words, maybe he could perform them.