Anything but

Mental Health

Chapter seven.

It was one of those almost painfully bright mornings, the kind which the kid's brain would later, in long-term memories, recall only as a washed-out, color-bled burst of brightness where people and trees were seen by the long, dark shadows they cast and the light which made him squint, which made even his memory squint and stare at the ground.

He was checked out of classes for the morning and was going with his mother to have a look at the charter school. Though the kid disliked the prospect of standing out at his own school (though his absence might reasonably go unnoticed) but was even more concerned about being labeled at this new one, where he might end up going very soon. He thought of ways of ditching his mother, if only in front of the other kids. And how would he find his way around with no adult? He might get rounded up into a class if he were caught in the hallway.

The kid made himself no promises. He would do what he had to do.