It seems it's over. Tim Hurley went up against the man, and the man rolled right over him, gaining speed so as to barrel down the decline of western civilization toward the bus of a better tomorrow, stuck on the rusty tracks of society.
At his most recent and final appeal for his right to an education, he strolled in, confident that all would turn out for the better. Rather than one or two people at the hearing to pass judgment over him, there were many, parents and respected members of the community, who wanted nothing more than to spend their time dealing with the "degenerate gutter slime of Olympia." Tim sought moderation. Perhaps he could find it in the crowd.
Tim's image of the ideal outcome would soon fade, only to be replaced with the truth. The truth hurt. The prestigious members of the council soon fell to the constant and unrelenting barrage of tripe, hurled by the New Century representatives.
One incident, when Tim held a fellow student’s blue air force cap while his friend went to use the water fountain before school, was referred to as "another one of Tim's horrendous intimidations when, in direct defiance of the Security Chief's orders, displayed his gang colors in the form of a blue ball cap and ..." The board members fell for the clever ruse. When Tim tried to point out that he was simply doing a favor for one of his classmates, and breaking no rules, crossing no boundaries, the council marked him as "denying the truth" and "not taking responsibility for his own actions." They never thought that possibly deep down, beneath the slimy mask projected upon him by his self-appointed mentors, he wasn't in fact a deviant bent on ruining the lives of everyone around him and generally stirring up dissent.
As it turns out, Tim was turned down, told he was wrong and was in fact, to his surprise, responsible for committing several malicious acts and barbaric crimes against humanity. Adding insult to injury, he cannot makeup any of the work that he was forced to miss and will probably spend a bit more time in high school than he had planned. When he gets out he will find that the only available jobs are shadowed by a large pair of golden arches.
Well, that's life. Who cares huh? He's just another youth with dreams and hopes shattered, whose will was crushed into the primordial mire of his beginnings by the steel studded heel on the black leather boots of the man when he showed a faint glimmer of independent thought. But this happens day after day, Tim being only an example, one pebble in the gravel road of disillusionment, quashed beneath the giant rolling wheel of despotic tyranny. The independence and free will of yet another generation has been quelled.
This is still commonplace in New Century, where it seems it's expected that a day doesn't pass without a handfull of incidents that are allowed to go by without a word of protest. If questions do arise, threats are made and lips are sealed.
Anyone who remembers what the school once was, has either graduated and now jeers what the school has become, or has abandoned it, not wanting their good name to be associated with this festering sore on the sensibilities of all that is reasonable.
Some school faculty are telling freshman that Tim caused people to become confused and suicidal. A friend of Tim's was recently grilled on the significance of the pentacle he wore around his neck. The Security Chief wanted to know if he worshiped Satan, and if not, who he did worship. As far as I know, that's illegal, unreasonable, and a great offense to the minds and spirit of any person who holds a glimmer of tolerance in them. Yet it continues.
What can be done? Where can one turn? The tortured wailing of youthful innocence silently echoes through the halls of our public schools. How does one hear a silent scream?