At first it did not sound like a laugh. The whimper coming out of my throat sounds almost like crying. Then something inside gushes out. It hit me deeply like a tidal wave and I laugh manically, unable to stop myself. As if I told the worst joke in the world which only I thought it was funny.

When I finish laughing my porridge did not look appetising anymore.

I look up at the crowd. They were stunned into silence. 

“I understand that none of you would consider me anything remotely close to being a friend,” I say directing the last word at Malcolm, who flinches at my words. “But if all of you are trying to accuse me of something, you should maybe look for evidence, instead of just sitting here making up rumours. Do not try to talk about me like you would know my actions,” I hiss.

I wipe my mouth with the laid out pale blue napkin and set it back down on the table. I stand to leave.

“Look, it’s not like you bothered to try to befriend any one of us,” a voice in the crowd suddenly jeers. It is a different voice from the previous one making all those comments. You could almost hear the people next to him audibly freezing.

I laugh again. This time of my own volition. 

“Ha, ha, ha.” I look at Malcolm. “He must be new here,” I say to him.

Malcolm’s face is nowhere close to his usually smiling expression. I start to feel an ache in the bottom of my stomach. Another feeling I do not understand. Guilt? Frustration? Everything at once? I felt furious. But looking at his face. I don't know if I wanted to be angry anymore. I make my way to the door calling out behind my shoulder as I leave the room, with a lot less anger then before, just a pit of resounding sadness. 

“If I made friends with any of you then who would you bully?”

I close the door slowly behind me and my knees give way. Luckily the door is not made out of glass so they cannot see this display. I sit on the cold grey stone floor, unable to move, and inevitably listen to the conversation that I left behind.

“You idiots, what was that all about?” Malcolm says harshly. 

“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Nice. It wasn’t like you went to go check on him either you know. No one did. It’s not my fault he doesn’t have friends is it?”

“Don’t be mad at Malcolm! It’s not like you would have talked to him! And you wanted answers yet you make him do your dirty work.”

“You wanted to know as well! And well, I didn’t know he was ill! I just assumed if you were hurling these accusations around someone would have had actually gone to see if he actually left the castle or not! Why did no one look into his room?”

“I thought someone else might have done it? I don't know.”

“Yeah, I mean someone must have right?”

The voices slowly blend into a single deep drone. Someone else. Someone else thought that someone else thought to check on me. Maybe deep down someone else would actually care about me. I guess I was just deluding myself though, like how I was deluding myself that the stuff coming out of my eyes were not tears.

I wiped my face with my sleeve. I was not going to cry. Especially not here. Anyone at any moment could come out of the room, and all my bravado would have been for naught. I tried to leave but still could not find the energy to move.

“Well, you know what? Now that’s he is gone we won’t know if he knows anything about Mikail. Anyway did any of you precious Mikail fans think about that? What happened to Mikail and Mr. Mortimer? We still don't know.”

“You’re a fan yourself you know,” someone sniggered.

“Well, I’m going to go find him,” Malcolm says a slight worry in his voice. “Look guys, are we all really such horrible individuals that we keep letting this bullying happen? Maybe you all shouldn’t keep treating him like this.”

“It’s not like you do anything to stop Mikail from bullying him you know.”

“But I don’t join in,” Malcolm says.

“Does that make you any better though?”

Silence.

“Well, maybe I’ll try to make things better now. It’s the least I can do. It’s the least we all can do. We should apologise. I... if you guys want to bully me next fine. I think I would deserve it. Please lets stop this. We are not children.”

I hear a noise as someone rose from their seat. I quickly spring upwards and dash away, energy suddenly coursing through me.

I am not sure where I am heading to, but it would have been awkward to find myself outside the door just now. I quickly walk to the room diagonally opposite from me, past the three large grey statues of the finders that adorn the hall. I fling open the large intricate designed wooden doors and enter the ball room.