Not Your Charity Case

★ Part 3 ★

Warning: mentions of rape, and brief description, do not read italics part of this if it is triggering or harmful to you in any way.
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He couldn't help it as the tears streamed from his eyes, it was too much. Simon's taunting words had thrown him back, back to memories he tried his best to avoid but now he couldn't stop shaking. 

"Fuck, Rowan, I'm sorry. I was just messing around. I didn't mean to hurt you." Simon quickly let go of his hold of the younger boys sweater but lightly keeping his hand on his back worried that Rowan would fall over if he completely stepped away.

"Y-you didn't I, I sh-should go." The younger boy stuttered out as he quickly turned, tears still rolling down his face and sped walked away. Leaving a worried and shocked Simon behind him.

Rowan eventually found himself in one of his school bathrooms starring at his puffy, red eyes. He doesn't want to be this emotional, he wished he could forget it. Forget it all, his past always seemed to hold him back rather than stay behind him like it should.

Simons words kept echoing in Rowans ears until they morphed into a different voice. Simons words were now being said by an older man, the same older man who tore away Rowan's last shred of trust in humanity. He was seeing flashbacks now, of the man who wouldn't take no for an answer. 

"You owe me, baby doll. I saved you from the streets on such a horrible night." The old man's voice sounded stale and intimidating as he spoke to Rowan moving closer.

"I- I don't have any m-money." Rowan stuttered as he started to back away from the man who was now scaring him. This didn't seem anything like the concerned man who brought him off the streets, no, this man was a monster. 

"I don't want your money." The old man smirked as he cornered Rowan against the wall.

The fourteen year old was now shaking, what should he do? What could he do? The man ran his hand down from the side of Rowan's neck to his hips with a sinister smirk placed upon his lips.   

"P-please stop." The boy cried as he shook with fear trying to get out of the old man's grasp.

"Why would I do that? We're having so much fun." The old man smirked as he undid the buckle on the young sobbing boys jeans.

Rowan turned on the sink quickly and splashed his face with cold water. He took a few deep breaths and decided that he was composed enough to leave the washroom.

Sadly as Rowan was distraught and having a breakdown in the washroom he hadn't heard the warning bell or the tardy bell. As he looked along the hallway that was empty he realized that he must be late. Rowan's mind was instantly clouded with worry, a detention would mean missing school and as a result, he would probably have to sleep outside again. 

Trying to appear calm and hide his distraught Rowan started to make his way to his first class hopping his art teacher wouldn't be so mad at him. 

when he opened the door it slid open easily sending cool air through the room as it easily glided open and revealed the rest of the class staring at him. Rowan visibly gulped as his art teacher Miss. Austin looked over at him. 

Miss. Austin had always been kind to Rowan because of his passion for art and his usually impeccable record.  When her eyes turned to the door she was astonished that it was Rowan. The few times that he had not arrived before the tardy bell he wouldn't show up at all that day and would have a note stating that he was sick signed by his mother brought to the office. At least that's what she thought, she didn't know that Rowan used his artistic talent to make up a new printing dedicated for signing documents that his mother who kicked him out was supposed to do. 

"Mr. Acker, will you be joining us today?" Miss Austin asked him with a careful but slightly arrogant tone. She may be nice but she always seemed to have a bit of arrogance to her, it was part of her character. 

"Yes, mam. Sorry." Rowan blushed as he closed the door behind him and started to make his way to his desk inside the classroom. To get to his desk he had to walk past none other than Simon Hills who looked at him with pure guilt, and confusion. Simon's look confused Rowan a bit, he wanted to yell at him saying he had no right to wonder or worry about him after bullying him for three years. He didn't. He got to his desk and carefully set down in his seat and looked back up to make eye contact with his teacher, hoping that this would be the end of it. 

"I would like to see you after class, Rowan." 

Deciding that this statement was better than her granting him a detention in front of the entire class, Rowan nodded his head in understanding and than the class presumed as it normally would. 

Today in class it was a free art period, they could do whatever they pleased with any medium as long as they were being productive. 

Rowan pulled out his notebook and easily started to sketch a boy on a park bench in the middle of a cold crisp winter night wrapped in a blanket. Anyone who looked at his art had always either thought that he was making things up as he went along and that it meant nothing other than that he was a really talented artist, or they would think that his art represented metaphorical pain when really it was Rowan's reality. 

At the end of class, the bell rang and all of Rowan's peers quickly walked out of the room to go to their next class or to have a cigarette break. Rowan missed the way the boy whose dark hair was styled perfectly turned back to have one last look at the boy with guilt in his eyes. 

Miss. Austin walked over to Rowan and admired his artwork before addressing him, "You're not usually late- so I'll let you off with a warning. Don't let it happen again."

Rowan nodded, "Thank you." He was then dismissed and sent off to his next class, hoping his day would improve.