Elyse strutted through the halls with grace. She felt noticed by the universe, her life's story had begun, her meaning finally present. She could be a superhero, a goddess, executing tasks only possible with her new talent. 

In the midst of the crowded halls, a familiar locker was jutted open, coated in various stickers; a pot leaf, band names scraggled in incomprehensible font, Tom Brady. The locker closed revealing Jeremy, confused upon seeing this new uppity aura surrounding Elyse.

"What's yer deal? Caught'cher first dick?" 

Despite Elyse's positive outlook, the comment made her retreat inwards. It was a personal attack, but instead of sinking away, she forced a menacing smile. 

"There's a girl waiting for you, Jessica something, janitor's closet in the 150s hallway. I think she wants to catch yours." 

The disarmed Jeremy stood speechless, cheeks even rosier and eyes agape. 

"...Jessica Wells?" 

Elyse remembered her. A dull yet extremely attractive girl. She remembered back in 6th grade she was the first of the girls that developed a mature set of breasts. 

"I think. Have fun." 

...

Jeremy regularly skipped classes by going out into the courtyard or behind the school in the thin patch of woods. He took pleasure in breaking sticks and kicking rocks while his classes went on. Anything was better than being home, except for school itself. Seeing what Elyse was talking about after classes had already started was no problem. 

He peered down the empty hall for potential teachers before making his way into the room. The door was usually locked but this time propped. He creaked it open before doing a double take behind, then entered. The darkness of the room was immediately concerning, and even moreso when he couldn't find the lightswitch. A feminine whisper interrupted his struggles; 

"Close the door." 

He jumped, and then tried really hard to hide the fact that he jumped, as if it was a natural body movement, to not make himself look weak. He closed the door. Darkness surrounded him for a couple seconds, along with an eerie silence. 

"Uh... what's with the light? Is this Jess?" 

Overhead tungsten bulbs switched on, Elyse was sitting on an upside down mop bucket. A great panic reeled down his spine, he felt dumber than ever. He immediately assumed this was a ploy to embarrass him, but part of him questioned whether or not it was Elyse that actually wanted to engage with him. In this uncomfortable confrontation, it was difficult to find words, and her stare was unusual, seemingly holding some subtext that he was unfamiliar with. Jeremy defaulted to pleasantries, strangely enough. 

"Hey, uh... y'know, not sure what yer doin', but I should tell ya, I'm sorry for..." 

The world blurred. The light blinded as he fell to the tile. Opening his eyes revealed nothing but overwhelming white light. He thought he had been shot in the chest. He thought he was experiencing death. 

It worked.

Elyse observed the tiny Jeremy from the mop bucket. This was even more exhilarating than the objects. She walked over to the miniature boy reeling on the floor. He was holding his stomach, eyes closed, like he got the wind knocked out of him. She planted her feet on either side of him, staring right down, so that the angle would be a surprise when he came to. 

The light no longer blinded him, his blood pressure stabilized as he looked to his side. The first thing he observed was an impossibly large Converse sneaker. He focused on it and nothing else, trying to make out what he was looking at. He blinked, looked at his hand, then back at the sneaker. What in the fuck. Mind racing, he could not figure it out, until slowly peering up at what the sneaker was connected to; a spot of brown skin beneath a tight jean leg, this was a... person? He shot his head up to see the face of the enormous being towering before him; a smug, confident Elyse. 

The boy did not often exude any sense of guilt or embarrassment. Throughout his entire social life, he has worked hard to hide any and all feelings of inferiority, and has resorted to any means necessary to appear stronger than he was. Obviously, his current situation is the direct result of this behavior; shrinking before a domineering woman, the sadistic look on Elyse's face allowed pressures and traumas to rise to the surface. The current predicament completely dismantled the wall that Jeremy worked so hard to build between him and the outside world. He shivered uncontrollably before drowning in tears. It was a mixture of fear and loathing that gripped him, a knowing of hopelessness, an imminent death, instinctual and primal. 

The sad thing about reality is that children are so oblivious to the psychological context in which others are thrown into moments of mania. Truthfully, Elyse felt a little bad for the guy. She refrained from squashing him like initially planned, instead using this moment of weakness the boy exhibited in a show of mockery. It was only fair. Elyse cared not for egalitarian caregiving, being purely motivated by spite in the moment. 

"You're so fucking pathetic." She snorted as she laughed. 

Unbeknownst to her, the verbal abuse withdrew more trauma from the recesses of Jeremy's mind. Vivid depictions of his wrist being choked by the grip of his mother as he is dragged into the closet. His small frame is thrown so hard that his head hits the back of the wall through the clothes. The floor is covered in miscellaneous garbage that has been hidden away, vacuum hoses, blocks he used to play with, winter jackets, trash bags; "I'm sorry, mommy, I'm sorry, mommy, I'm sorry" instinctively in a string of fear stricken wails, face soaked in snot, exasperated screams, torturous. Hungry, tired, thirsty, he'd cry himself unconscious in that room. 

Although Elyse had not been aware of the mental hell overtaking Jeremy, it seemed a bit... rough to watch, to say the least. Her sense of power melted to a strange sympathy. She tried to snap herself out of it. He was a wretch, he had tortured you your whole life, Elyse. She'd spark a bit of gratified anger, until a couple seconds of Jeremy's crying sobered her again. 

"Hey... relax, Jesus..." 

Jeremy tried to quiet himself, unable to control the tears.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Elyse. Please... please don't tell anyone, Elyse, I'm sorry..." 

"Would you knock it off?" 

Truthfully, Elyse hated to see him like this. It was like seeing the villain in a TV show commit suicide... the realness of the situation removed any hostility. Villains are fun to hate. Jeremy was fun to vilify, fun to torture in her mind, but this was just... not the same. It wasn't right. She decided she still wanted to put him in his place, but in a justified way that wouldn't be overkill. 

He sniffled in a puddle. Elyse gently grabbed him. Soft skin covered Jeremy's body. 

"Don't hurt me, Elyse, I'm sorry..." 

"I'm not gonna fuckin' hurt you, okay? Christ, chill the hell out." 

She tucked him in her pocket. It was an unconscious move for her, like tucking in a phone, but to Jeremy, it was surreal. He slid into the tight denim confines. It smelled very warm and comfortable, Gain dryer sheets, her warm thigh lulled him into a calm slumber. He was comfortable; hidden from the world, covered in what felt like a blanket. He calmed himself down, the tears and sweat dried up, his heartbeat steadied, bliss soothed his frightened heart. The merciful escape of sleep took him in.