Trust [Lams AU]

12

Trigger warning: violence, abuse, offensive slurrs, drug mention

Another dark chapter whoopsie. I didn't entirely intend to make this go this dark but that's just where the words took me. I tried to make the incident between John and his father sound as realistic and genuine as possible, I apologise for any mistakes or if at any point it comes off sounding weird and fake. 

Enjoy!

John shuffled down the hallway, his dress shoes dragging against the polished marble floor.

The dress shoes were horribly uncomfortable, pinching his toes and squeezing his heels and generally making him feel like his feet were being strangled to death by two tiny straitjackets.

The dress shoes were part of the uniform that the school required all the students to wear.

Administration said that the uniforms were meant to "eliminate distractions" and "prevent bullying based on what students are wearing."

But John knew the truth. The uniforms were meant to eliminate all sense of originality and turn the student body into an army of well-dressed clones.

It wasn't that John had anything against rules, it was just that most of the rules that existed were stupid.

Sure, there were rules meant to keep people safe, like no drinking and driving, no smoking in public places, no speeding in residential neighborhoods.

But the school rules weren't about safety. They were about control and making students' lives as miserable as possible.

No unnaturally colored hair.

No piercings.

No using the bathroom for the first ten minutes and the last ten minutes of the period.

No eating in class unless you have special permission from a teacher.

No going anywhere without a pass.

They weren't about making school safe. They were about making it as unpleasant as possible.

Speaking of "as unpleasant as possible," John thought as he walked into his last class of the day: history.

It wasn't that John didn't find history interesting, it was that he didn't like his teacher. His teacher, Mr. Farello, made all of the students put their phones in a box on his desk when they walked into class.

Mr. Farello was taking away the only thing that made school remotely tolerable: music.

John turned off his music, unplugged his headphones, and placed his phone in the box.

"Thank you, John." Mr. Farello said, smiling at John with that fake smile teachers always did to try to act like they were friendly when in reality they either had a strong dislike for the student or didn't remember who they were.

John walked to his seat and sat down. His seat was in the back of the class, which made him happy. He absolutely despised sitting in the front of the class. In his opinion, being forced to sit in the front of the class was one of the most brutal forms of torture in existance, second only to being burned at stake.

"Okay, class, today we're going to be discussing the Fourteenth Amendment." Mr. Farello said as he began to write notes on the board.

John took his notebook out of his bag and flipped it open to a blank page. He took his pencil out of his pocket and began to draw.