Brenton

The building sat empty or near empty for a while as a newer, smaller school opened up in a neighboring district, funneling away any remaining students and faculty. Nationwide, corporal punishment fell out of favor as a means of disciplining students, and the notion of positive reinforcement became the strong new paradigm, as teachers were no longer expected to act as substitute parents during school hours. Student misbehavior is not a new phenomenon, but as the "video game generation" matured and angered, it characterized misbehavior with physical violence against teachers and other students. Sometime as the calendar turned from the 1980's towards the 1990's, the school received private funding to create an alternative schooling program which would ideally accept "low incident risk, special education children whose needs cannot be best served through that student’s own district."

Brenton High accepted those who were not accepted anywhere else.

Up a dark, winding stair case to the second floor, only two class room doors are open and unlocked. The air is thick and hot, stuffy from lack of circulation and rules against opening windows. A large chart with every students name and the days of the week on it is the only thing on the blackboard.

Brenton uses a point system to judge the behavior of each student. Everyone starts at level 1, and if a student has a good day, he can get up to 5 full points. Each incident or disruption can and will detract from your points. Accumulating points can lead to an upgrade in your level. Higher levels can choose movies to watch, or games to play during gym class. Sometimes, the higher levels can even forgo the otherwise mandatory routine of push-ups and jumping jacks each morning.

Shawn leads the pack as a level 4. He is a blond haired, articulate 13 year old. His laughter is contagious, and if he died right now, his obituary could possibly read, "he put a smile on everyone's face". However, Shawn has anger management issues, and is prone to violence over trivial matters. He seriously beat a classmate at his former school, then injured a female teacher who tried to stop the fight. Everyone, including Shawn, is unclear over what provoked the attack. So Shawn now sits in the back row of one of the two classrooms in Brenton High.

"For the most part, Shawn is a good kid. They're all good kids. But they all have issues, which is why they're here, obviously. Shawn especially has a quick temper. He can get really riled up real quickly, but a few seconds later be fine. He's a good kid, he just has serious issues." Says Janice, who is one of three certified teachers at Brenton. She is a large woman with a serious face and calm eyes, and by no means attractive. Yet she is the most popular faculty member at Brenton because she is the only female in the whole school.

"He screamed like a hyena," Max says, "when Burt sat on him, he screamed his head off just like a cotton picking hyena." Despite being the longest tenured student, Max is behind Shawn as a level 3 as his behavior is constantly a problem. Max looks normal enough, but after talking with him briefly, one immediately concludes that he is not completely there mentally. Max had issues with physical and possible sexual abuse as a youngster, and was recommended to Brenton after he was caught killing neighborhood cats in his garage in fifth grade.

"Burt's a fat guy." Max says softly.

Burt is certainly a fat guy, and probably the least liked among Brenton's staff. Burt is not really a teacher, per say, but rather more like hired security. His big body sweats a lot in the humid May air, even as he merely sits at his desk in the back of the room, making sure everything is in order. He does not garnish resentment because of his personality or size, but because he carries a 10$ roll of quarters in his back pocket. Max is one of many students who can testify to the disciplinary effects of a fist full of change to the back of the neck.

Anthony, who pulled a knife on another student and attempted to stab him at his former school, could also attest to the benefits of not being hit by a roll of quarters. A level 2, he is imposing and very angry, but enjoys playing dodge ball and cards. Not everyone enjoys dodge ball, and it seems strange that a game where heavy leather balls are chucked at space cadet teenagers who stare at their shoes or pick their noses is encouraged by the staff. But everyone at Brenton enjoys playing cards, and they all know hundreds of games to play. Some days, there is nothing else to do in the hot classroom but play golf, or poker or crazy eights, or face off, or hockey.

Patrick sits quietly at his desk and does not participate in card games with the others. His is a level 1 not because of his lack of highly encouraged participation with others, but because he is the newest edition to Brenton's core. As is customary, he was told he would be merely visiting Brenton to determine if he liked it, but was then left for the first of many days at the alternative school. Well, half day. It is policy to bring first time students to Brenton after lunch time, as to not arouse the student's suspicion of why a bagged lunch is necessary if he is merely only going to take a tour.

The next day, Patrick brings his bagged lunch, and it is searched by staff as he enters the classroom. Lunches are searched daily for weapons and drugs. No back packs are allowed; all books, papers, and academic materials are kept in the classroom each night. Students are followed and observed in the bathrooms to prevent them from bumping lines of cocaine or jerking off or killing themselves or each other. Patrick watches unemotionally as the faculty searches through his cheese sandwich and fruit snacks. Patrick is a vegetarian, because he believes, "it is in accordance with the Left Hand Path." Patrick is a self proclaimed Satanist.

"The ways of Judeo-Christian theocracy have strangled human culture for centuries, and are the sources of major prosecutions of opposing religions, cultures, and even nature itself." Patrick says to Sherry-Brenton's resident child psychologist.

Sherry nods, displaying a semi-interested look of some one who has heard it all before. As if not hearing Patrick's opening remark, she asks him,

"So when was the first time you toked on pot?"

Patrick smiles softly. "Poisoning the body which is Lucifer's temple of the morning star is strictly against the tenants of the Left Hand Path." He casually replies.

It is clear that Patrick is intelligent and even studious, especially when compared with his classmates, some who barely break 80 on Brenton administered IQ tests. Patrick carefully considers each answer and reply he gives to Sherry, as he realizes that the judgment Sherry passes on him is his ticket out of Brenton. He desperately misses his old friends, however few and far in between. It is obvious that Patrick would be an odd duck almost anywhere, clad in full length black sleeves and pants even in the humid May sun, but at Brenton, he is a freak among freaks.

He rubs his chin with a palm sporting a hand drawn pentagram. This kind of artwork is the reason Patrick is here--teachers and psychologists at his former school found a cache of his artwork. While if it was hanging in a museum, it would seem almost tame, but when found in the folder of a 13 year old 8th grader, the artwork put fear into the hearts of his peers and administrators. Thus, Patrick is in the midst of his second week among the other freaks at Brenton.

He looks past Sherry, and out her locked window as he speaks. He refuses any behavior modifying medication, and discusses his misunderstood philosophy of Anton Szandor LaVey, Nietzsche, and the Marquis de Sade. Sherry humors him, and hopes to catch him in a contradiction or in a self imposes trap of guilt, somehow trying to justify his enrollment at Brenton.

When asked his thoughts on his chances of returning to his old school, Patrick shrugs. He knows it's rare for people to return without spending at least six weeks at Brenton. By then, the school year will be over.

"At my old high school," Patrick says, looking out the window, "I was too ugly to be let in. At Brenton, here, I'm too beautiful to be let out."

Regards, Esortnom