His Dark Reign

2. The feild trip

The yellow school bus rumbled along the two-lane highway, rattling with every bump in the road.

Students shouted over the roar of the engine, trading snacks, blasting music from portable speakers.

Adam sat in the very front seat, his backpack clutched on his lap, trying to block it all out. From here, he could at least avoid the eyes, the jeers.

“Yo, Sanchez!” someone yelled from the back. “You bringing the party to the woods, or what?”

“Always,” Sanchez said, his voice carrying effortlessly. Laughter erupted.

The teachers, seated a few rows behind Adam, didn’t even try to hush the noise.

To them, this was just kids being kids.

Adam stared out the window.

Trees blurred by, tall and endless, the forest stretching like an ocean of green. A part of him liked the thought of being lost in there—away from all of this.

---

When the bus pulled into the state park, students spilled out, their voices echoing in the open air.

The teachers gathered them in a circle, giving instructions about the trails and safety rules. Nobody listened.

The group started walking, Sanchez at the center of attention, cracking jokes that made everyone laugh too loud.

Adam trailed at the very back, his shoes crunching on gravel, head bowed.

The deeper they went, the taller the trees grew, blocking the sun. The air smelled of pine and damp earth.

Birds chirped high above, but their voices were drowned out by the noise of Adam’s classmates.

It didn’t take long for Sanchez to notice him.

“Look who’s here,” Sanchez said, turning back, his grin sharp.

“Rat-boy in the wild. Careful, guys, don’t let him squeak. Bears might hear.”

His friends howled.

Adam’s shoulders tensed. He kept walking. Don’t answer. Don’t—

A shove to his back sent him stumbling forward.

His knees scraped the dirt, palms burning as he caught himself. Laughter erupted.

“Oops,” Sanchez said innocently. “Didn’t see you there.”

Adam got up slowly, brushing dirt from his jeans. He wanted to scream, to hit, to do something. But his throat locked. His fists shook at his sides.

Sanchez circled him, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

“Come on, Adam. Say something. You’re always talking to teachers. Tell us how bad we are. File a report.”

The group jeered. Someone threw a pinecone that hit Adam square in the shoulder.

“Stop,” Adam muttered.

“What was that?” Sanchez cupped his ear. “Speak up, rat.”

“I said stop!” Adam shouted, louder than he intended. His voice cracked.

The clearing fell quiet for a moment. Then Sanchez laughed, long and loud.

“Oh, he’s got a little bite in him. Careful, guys. The rat thinks he’s a wolf.”

The laughter came back, louder than before.

Before Adam could step away, Sanchez drove his fist into Adam’s stomach.

Air whooshed from his lungs as pain exploded through him. He doubled over, wheezing.

“Guess not,” Sanchez said with a smirk.

Adam crumpled to his knees, gasping for breath. The world spun around him. His classmates watched, some grinning, others looking away uncomfortably—but none stepping in.

The teachers called the group together again. Sanchez waved them off.

“Coming, miss!” He replied, then  leaned down to whisper in Adam’s ear.

“Nobody’s ever going to care about you.”

And then he walked off with the others.

Adam tried to push himself up, but his arms shook too much.

His vision blurred. The voices of his classmates grew fainter as they moved away, following the trail.

Minutes passed. The bus engine roared in the distance.

When Adam finally forced himself to his feet, clutching his ribs, the forest was silent. The bus was gone. The group was gone.

He was alone.

The sky above had already started to darken.

Adam stood trembling in the middle of the trail, dirt and sweat caked on his face, a hollow ache burning in his chest.

“They left me,” he whispered.

The forest swallowed his words.

*********************

Adam staggered down the trail, clutching his ribs. The forest swallowed the last echoes of laughter, the hum of the bus, until all that remained was silence.

He tried to run, but his legs gave out. He stumbled off the path, collapsing against the trunk of a tree.

His breath came in ragged gasps.

His classmates. The teachers. Everyone. Not one person noticed he was missing.

Adam tilted his head back against the bark, eyes burning. The forest canopy stretched high above him, blotting out the sun. The air was damp and cold.

Time passed. He wasn’t sure how long. Shadows lengthened. The light between the trees thinned to gray, then to black.

Crickets began their chorus. An owl hooted somewhere far away. Every rustle of leaves made Adam flinch.

“Hello?” he called weakly. His voice cracked. The sound seemed to die instantly among the trees.

Nobody answered.

Adam pulled his knees to his chest. His whole body trembled—not just from the cold, but from something heavier. A knot of humiliation, bitterness, and rage boiled inside him.

He thought of Sanchez’s fist slamming into his stomach. He thought of the laughter. He thought of how easy it had been for them to forget him, to leave him behind like garbage.

His breathing grew ragged. “They… left me. They all left me.”

His voice cracked into a sob. He pressed his forehead against his knees, shaking.

“I hate them. I hate them all.”

The words echoed in the trees, carried on the wind.

And for the first time, the forest answered.