This is a hasty evening rant that I don't have time to revise, so enjoy....?

I begin my day in the usual fashion, an undignified process of meandering into consciousness through first hour. While trudging to my locker, I study the plastic floor tiles and the yellow florescent lights reflecting off of them. I look up to see Nathan surprisingly near. The sight of him kicks me fully into reality. His hair is unkempt and stringing across his face. His left eye is swollen and sickly blue-grey, dwarfing his narrow face. There is a fat, dark hole beneath his lip with hasty black stitches pulling it together.
I do not know how to respond to him, so I stand idly before him, shock bearing sturdily down on my ribcage. His expression is physically painful to behold, his eyes, which used to be excitingly bright blue, are layered thick with stoic defeat. "What happened to you?" I finally whispered. "Oh, uhhh.. w'll I passed out at the top of a staircase... they told me my blood sugar was too low... uhh..."
I used to really like him. He used to be creative and bright and clever and fun. He used to be surprisingly strong and good-natured. He used to be beautiful and his interest in "pot" colored it with that strange coolness that reeled me in. Now he is wasted and I ache for him so, so much. He is ruined and lifeless. He has been beaten.
I keep hoping they will send him to military school. I am hopeful that, once there, they would confiscate his precious weed and beat the shit out of him. They would turn him into the person he wanted to be. In a way, they would set him free. This is my hope because, without the prospect of military school, I honestly cannot see a way out for him. He is being drowned and I am watching it happen.