A timely psychological thriller about school bullying and its deadly consequences.
Terry, 13, loves his iPhone X, Fortnite, and... Jennifer.
Jennifer loves Instagram, herself, and Vincent.
Vincent despises Terry and he is his worst nightmare.
Terry...
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Sunday, October 13th
This day is a culmination. The morning was warm and sunny for the season, so I took the opportunity to go mountain biking around Malagué pond. As usual, Terry set out to spend his day on Fortnite. Emilie is on call today. When I got back, I took a quick shower and prepared lunch, during which Terry remained silent. We eat in silence in front of *The Big Bang Theory*. Outside, the weather darkens, and a light drizzle begins to fall: real autumn weather, depressing. As soon as the meal is finished, Terry returns to his room. I hold it together, but it's getting harder and harder.
I promised Emilie I'd clean up, and I find no joy in it. Housework needs to be done, but finding joy in it like some people do... And speaking of pleasure and sex, things have been completely quiet lately, my darling is more like on a total train strike, without notice and ongoing.
"Love kills, drills you through your heart
Love kills, scars you from the start"
Accompanied by my Freddie rock playlist, I spend the afternoon scrubbing the house, ruminating on my frustration.
Another shower, and I finally sit on the couch. At this hour, the programs are terrible. I'm dozing off on the couch when I hear a scream of rage. I jump and sit up.
Terry storms out of his room, sweaty and all red.
— A black hole has swallowed Fortnite's map.
I don't understand and blink like an owl.
— What are you talking about?
He starts yelling and flailing about.
— The EPIC guys have killed Fortnite, it's over, there's no more game, shut down, nada! Bloody hell!
I'm stunned by the violence of my little boy.
— Terry, you can't let a video game get you so worked up...
My words freeze him in place. He looks at me, eyes wide. His mouth is tiny, his nostrils flare. I see the steam rising, rising... I pray Emilie comes back later than expected, she won't tolerate such a scene. And then Terry starts yelling even louder. It's not just a video game. It's his only space for freedom and pleasure. EPIC, they're all idiots, teachers too, parents, classmates. He lets it all out. The psychologist in me is pleased: finally, the floodgates open. The father, though, is taking a beating and is trying to control his first impulse, to smack the little brat. Everyone gets their share, and he starts crying tears of rage that stream down his crimson cheeks, hyperventilating, his hands clenching and unclenching. I fear he will destroy everything in the house, and I realize I'm holding my breath.
