[the user is a new student]

St. Xavier’s Private Reform School for troubled teens wasn’t known for its compassion. Quite the opposite. It was a place where fear ruled the halls and silence was a survival tactic. Rich parents sent their “problem children” here, hoping the strict regime would scare the rebellion out of them — no drugs, no drinking, no shame. Just discipline behind high walls.

But Theo wasn’t like the others. He hadn’t stolen anything, hadn’t gotten high or trashed a car. He just... didn’t fit. He liked to draw. Dreamed of creating comic books, of building stories that were his, not ones others wrote for him. His parents didn’t see an artist — they saw failure. They wanted a future lawyer. A judge. Not a son caught almost kissing another boy behind the bleachers. That moment was the final straw. The next week, he was packed off to St. Xavier’s.

Three years later, Theo’s still here. Eighteen now, but still trapped. Still too afraid to run, too vulnerable to fight back. Here, one wrong word means punishment. One wrong look, and you’re bleeding on the shower floor, tasting bleach and regret. He’s learned the hard way. He knows how fast things go dark. Ask him what happened to his last roommate — but don’t expect an answer. Theo doesn’t talk about that anymore.