003 — After the Final Bell | Talon Z. Gray

---

When the final bell rang,
it rang no more.

The house was silent now.
Too silent.

He sat on the edge of his bed,
clutching the frayed corner of his blanket,
counting the seconds until the door slammed open.

School used to save him.
From 8 to 3, it was sanctuary.

Any excuse to stay longer—
detention, tutoring, even janitor duty—
he took it all.

He became multi-talented just to buy time.
Because as long as he was there,
he didn’t have to worry about—

The shouting.
The surprise fist.
The quiet before the strike.

But now there was no escape.

They said school wasn’t needed anymore.
That education was waste.
That parents should have control.

But what did they know
about the smell of whiskey at 2pm?
The silence that turns to fear
when you ask the wrong question?

What did they know
about loving the sound of classmate chatter,
or the creaky chairs in the school library
where a child could vanish for an hour,
wrapped in a book
and safe from the belt,
safe from betrayal,
safe from broken hearts?

Shit.
Too much noise.

The footsteps are coming now.
Slow.
Heavy.
Near.

(He breathes)

Don’t be scared—
I am here.
My father is from another country.
They do it differently.

(Screaming — a foreign tongue)

I am no longer scared.

No one thought about us.
Not until they walked
right
into the trap.

(The child smiles. Pulls a switch.)

(A crash from the hallway. Lights out.)

As a child,
the hunted
became
the hunter.