Authors: Gerard Brennan
As soon as the S-word came out of Stevenson's mouth Conor sprang out of his seat. He swept the little desk in front of him to the side and charged Stevenson. Conor was pumped up and looked at least twice the size of the cruel bastard. The prick didn't know what hit him. Three brutal punches and one of those evil elbows, it looked like. The teacher pitched backwards and smacked his head off the hard floor. For five long seconds I thought he was dead. Then I saw his chest hitch. He was just unconscious.
“What are you going to do?” I asked Conor.
Conor spat on the prone teacher then turned to me. “Help me with him.”
He grabbed Stevenson's arms and directed me to pick up his legs with a nod. I hesitated. His eyes were too wide, his voice screechy.
“What's the plan, Conor?”
“I'll tell you on the way. Come on.”
The stunned silence from the other boys in the class started to break. One or two kids whooped. A few of them chanted Conor's name. I needed to sit down.
“This is serious shit, Conor.”
“Fuck. You're right. Maybe you shouldn't help this time, mate. I don't want to get you expelled.”
So I left him to it. Bottled out.
Sometimes I wonder if I could have talked him out of it, if I'd just gone with him and seen what his plan was, like. The counsellor I go to tells me that's a waste of time and energy, though. He says I should work on forgiving myself instead. Easier said than done. Often, I think of the little kid that found Mister Stevenson in the toilets, strung up on the doorframe of one of the cubicles. Hanged by his own tie. The kid was just a first year. He never came back to our school after that day.
Some other boy said he saw the cops take Conor from the school and stuff him into the back of the car. He swears on his grave that he heard Conor say, calm as you like:
“You should have seen that bastard swing.”
Also by Gerard Brennan
A frank look at the drink and drug-addled youth ejected onto the streets of a socially deprived community as they smirk in the face of authority and play Russian Roulette with their adolescent lives.
About the author
Gerard Brennan is the author of the novels,
, the novella,
, co-editor of
Requiems For The Departed
, a collection of crime fiction based on Irish myths, and the short story collections,
Possession, Obsession And A Decompression Engine
Other Stories And Nothing But Time
. He lives in Dundrum, Northern Ireland.
From the publisher
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