Frozen Heart - 2. Chapter 2 - The middle-school years

"What a strange boy..." how many times had Maximilian heard that? At least once a week, every week of every year of middle-school. Sometimes it wouldn't be "boy" but the idea was the same. Teachers still tried to open him up, crack the shell that he had put in place around him. Some students would also try, from time to time, to become his friend. This in a way baffled Maximilian, as he was doing his best to be ignored. He tried so very hard to pass unnoticed, and his efforts payed out. He became invisible. Not invisible invisible, but invisible for the other students, a shadow passing through the halls, wandering from class to class. In an ironic way though, he had become the school legend, people knew about him. They would get out of his way in the halls, whispering among themselves. He was a curiosity, and the attention he got was stressful for him. He had wanted to become so invisible that he had achieved the exact opposite for a brief time. They began calling him Ghost.

"Look here comes Ghost," he would hear from time to time.

Jealous of the attention, a group of boys his age began to bully him. At first it was just calling him names, mocking his clothes, his looks. Maximilian didn't care at all, they could keep talking, and laughing, he simply didn't care. He waited patiently for them to be done, and moved on. However he almost lost control on one, just one, occasion. After a two weeks of the usual, the bullies, tired of his lack of response, and to be able to fulfill their violent and cruel needs, grabbed him in the halls. They took him to the bathrooms, surprised at the lack of resistance Maximilian was putting up, and started hitting him. Harder, and harder, in the stomach, on the arms, in the balls, on his face. They wanted tears, and cries, and screams. They wanted to see him break. And he almost did. The ice walls around his heart and his emotions had started to crumble. If it wasn't for the arrival of a teacher, he would have shattered. He would have given up. Luckily the teacher immediately put an end to the torture, and took him to the nurse. The bullies got no tears, no screams, but they did get permanent expulsion (the school was very strict on physical contact). His body healed quickly, and the protections were back in place even faster.

Eventually, new rumors popped up, and people forgot about Ghost. It dawned Maximilian that Ghost was really a ghost now, he could finally return to the blessed shadows.

With his exceptional grades, teachers were always signing him up to school competitions. Thanks to Maximilian the school won the state spelling-bee two years in a row, and a few other competitions as well. Although talking in front of a crowd should have been nearly impossible for such a shy and introverted boy, it came easily to Maximilian. He usually ignored the audience concentrating on the person asking the questions, not even taking in account other students. What bothered him in these competitions was the attention he got at the end. The loud round of applause, the cheers, these sounds hurt his ears. The spotlight burned his eyes. How can a Ghost survive in the spotlight? Maximilian's aunt never came to see him, not once.

​It may be noteworthy that these competitions had an... unexpected side effect. A particularly competitive girl had taken it as a personal offence his lack of joy at winning.

"He thinks he is so much better than us. 'This is so beneath me!' I bet that's what he tells himself when he goes on stage to receive his prize" she would say to her friends.

Her patience finally wore out after one last contest. Maximilian had, as usual, won without a real challenge. He had gone as usual on stage to be congratulated, not that he wanted to. As his eyes were burning under the spotlight, the girl had exploded, thrown one of the most memorable tantrums ever. She had started screeching something about him being an ungrateful smart-ass or something. Maximilian had turned his gaze towards this new attack on his eardrums. He had looked at her in the eyes with his cold, dead, blue eyes, involuntarily letting his lassitude show. For an instant the girl had seen him, had truly seen him, his pain, and his misery that were locked away in some dark corner of his mind. It had been an accident, a moment of inattention. Maybe out of pity or of empathy she had teared up, she forgot her poisonous words, and she left, crying.

Interestingly enough, teacher left him alone after that.

It was also in middle-school that Maximilian finished reading every book in his aunt's library. On one of the rare evenings they spent together for the sake of appearances, he asked her if she could procure more books for him. Arguing it was his only form of entertainment.

"You have my whole library at your disposition boy."

"Had," he corrected.

After a brief look of surprise, she questioned him on the content of some of the most notable books. Having a good memory, Maximilian was able to answer easily. Satisfied she said:

"Tomorrow I will go out and buy you a tablet, a phone, and a laptop. I hear it is what you young people have nowadays, and that way you won't bother me again."

Having been granted access to the Internet and the wealth of knowledge it contained, Maximilian gladly plunged into its depth. Enjoying every new information that came to him, relishing the fact that new opportunities were opening up for him. Still, he kept to himself all the accumulated knowledge he gathered, as he had no interest in boasting or showing off. If a teacher had realized how much he knew, how much information he had gathered compared to what he let on, Maximilian would have been on his way to prestigious universities.

Locked away to be forgotten,

His past for many years slumbered.

As leaves did walls fall in autumn,

And by a light was the heart burned.

I composed the little poem at the end. Its probably horrible I know  I'm not really sure I got all the rules right... French poetry is very different (I just wanted to try something really)
Just a little taste of what is to come soon! (story-wise of course, I am not going to start writing in rhymes and counting syllables)
 
Thank you all for reading and please tell me what you think!