“Gideon! Theophilus! To the front of the room now; leave your books where they are.” There was a moment of tension. We all spun around to see the bruised and horrified faces of Gideon and Theo. What poor boys to get caught in such trouble!

“Eyes up front. What business is it to you all?” Many flung their heads forward in fear, hoping that the next word to be cast from her mouth would not be a name. I would have too, if my eyes weren’t grasped by their fear.

“Get a move on, will you?” she barked across the room. They rose from their desks and began to trot to the chalkboard that lay in front of my seat. Sister Brand’s robe easily made her seem innocent and kind in the eyes of others. However, we knew her as a strong force that took things personally and, at times, out of hand. I’m already beginning to imagine the colours of their hands; what shades come between the colours of light peach and purple, I wonder? Maybe it’s the shades of blue and yellow blood vessels on their cheeks and hands. Whatever it is, it’s soon to be seen.

Eyes retreated to the front after hearing the boys remove themselves from their seats. We await their arrival at the chalkboard.

“Is that a smirk I see, Mr. Alcock?” We darted around to gaze upon Gideon’s moment of bravado. Who knew what he was smiling at, but it was certainly not the time to challenge Sister Brand.

“What did I say to you all!?“ she bellowed. All eyes made their way to the

front this time.

“Maybe I should bring the rod across that conniving mouth of yours? Do not think me so merciful.” He let his smile fall flat following her last syllable. We shivered in the same moment. The next moments were quiet, quieter than they usually were. We knew what this was.

We could feel the faint, cold, thin air permeate the draft through the old wooden window sills. The boys met the front of the room, toe-to-toe with what was to be the will of God for the duration of the class. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder towards the audience, by the instruction of Sister Brand.

“I believe there was a fight during our lunch break today. Gideon, your name by meaning may make you a fighter, but you are not to fight your classmates under any circumstances.”

“Well, what do I do, Sister? Let them beat me?” said Gideon, in the most polite manner possible.

“You are to defend yourself and nothing more, not like how you’ve blackened Theo’s eye or bloodied his nose all over his uniform.”

“Sister, he was the one-”

“Silence!” she demanded, cutting him off. “You have no defense here. All I see are two boys beaten to a shade of colour no one should reach over some adolescent argument. This is not what we teach you here at the school and you know the consequences. Do not play innocent. Your lip does not help you here, Gideon.” He was quiet. No one had noticed that Theo had broken out into tears without sobs. His cheeks had begun to grow more red than they already were. I wasn’t sure if I could bare to hear him beg my name in the following moments; Mercy.

“Palm up, Mr. Alcock.” demanded Sister Brand. He placed his hand shoulder-high, bruised knuckles facing down; clean, smooth skin facing up. Sister Brand pulled out a cherry wood rod seemingly from thin air. Gideon didn’t flinch; as a matter of fact, he was very well composed. It was clear to everyone that he’s never been where he is now, below 18 inches of blunt torment. What’s worse is that, with my guess, there are often more punishments to follow, considering fights do not happen often and even rough-housing is punishable by whipping.

“Five lashes, that will be all. Father will wish to speak with you hereafter.” She began without warning. The first strike was hard and loud, as were the other four. Once unscathed palms were now bloodied and blistered. There was no doubt that he would cry.

“Take your books and make your way to Father’s office. He will decide what to do next.” He hurried along to his desk where his friend, Bennett, was already prepared to place his books under his arm.

“Theophilus.” His eyes widened and tears continued down his face.

“Is it true what Gideon said about you commencing the argument? Were you teasing him? I would advise in telling the truth, Mr. Porter, be sure not to take me as a fool.” Sister Brand could sense a lie a mile away. She was certainly one of God’s disciples.

“Y-Yes, Sister.” He was surprisingly well understood underneath his tears considering what he had just watched, knowing that he would be next.

“Your honesty is admired, Mr. Porter; however, one of our most esteemed rules here is ‘pick no quarrels’ and I’m sure you are well aware of that, correct?”

“Yes, Sister.” he repeated.

“Then you know the punishment. Hand out, Mr. Porter.” He began to beg as he lifted his arm.

“Please, Sister Brand. Please have mercy.” He said my name, Mercy. If only my name matched my function, I’d give it to him most certainly. My friend, Enoch, nudged my side to notify me of the convenience and I had not moved, in horror of what Sister Brand may say. Enoch and I would certainly not like to be the next on her to do list.

Raising her hand, she met eyes with Theo one last time and broke their gaze with the first lash and a scream that curdled blood.