My Crazy Years

Thief

The days until holiday couldn't pass fast enough for Vlad. As he was going home, tears streaming down his face, thinking of his broken lunchbox and scribbled notebooks. Freddy bullied him again, that day, hiding his backpack before class, shoving him into the snow, yelling mean things at him. And no one did a thing to help him. They all just stood and watched, laughed at him and some even participated as well. The teachers were useless, pretending not to see and even when they interfered, they couldn't do much beside, scolding the bullies and give them mere punishments that could equal a light slap on the wrist. Vlad was sick of it all, sniffing his nose as a new wave of tears was about to come out.

At least nobody was home to see him cry. His stepfather was gone in another town for a business trip and would only come back later that night and his mother was at a friend, visiting for the entire day. Thus there would be no one to ask questions, to demand answers for why his notebooks were destroyed. He didn't want his parents to cause another scene. That would only make things worse. It always did.

He arrived at the entrance of the apartment complex he was living in, searching his pockets for the keys to open the glass doors. They were nowhere. His face went white as he looked for them again and again, in the pockets of his coat, in the compartments of his backpack, spilling its contents on the sidewalk, yet his findings bore no fruit. After a few minutes of frantic searches, it was clear that he either lost them or forgot to take them, but either way. He had no way of getting into his own home. Vlad began to cry again, louder this time, hoping that at least one of his neighbors would hear him and come to his help, but his voice fell on deaf ears, no savior seen at the horizon to aid the poor little boy.

The chill air was starting to sneak into his clothes, and he couldn't sit still any longer. He gathered his belongings and left to the park, tears stinging his eyes and blur his vision. At one point, he bumped into someone and when he looked up, ready to scream in frustration he froze. Of all the people he could run into, it had to be the witch.

You were pretty down these last few days. Turns out finding Chaga Mushrooms was harder than you thought, and they were expensive as freak too. You wondered if offering some Chaga tea to the Birch would work. Looks like you had to bother Gertrude again.

Henry was walking by your side, refusing to abide by your request of not bothering you at all. But at least, this time he made himself useful and showed you where to find those mushrooms. Apparently, they were only sold at pharmacies, turned into pills or tea bags, just your luck.

"Still, why do you need them in raw form?" he asked and tried to touch Kuro, only for the owl to raise his wings threateningly his way and try to pinch his fingers off. "Whoa! Easy there!" Henry yelled, retracting his hand in time to avoid the bird's beak.

"Well done, Kuro." you said to the owl, before answering the boy's question. "None of your business. Anyway, I need to g..." you began only to be cut off by someone bumping into you.

You looked down, expecting to hear an apology, when your eyes met the tears-filled those of none other than that woman's brat. You were about to let out a snarky remark about him watching where he was going, when you noticed the snot all over his face and his sad expression and also the fear taking over as he realized who he bumped into. It was obvious that you weren't the only one having a bad day.

Sighing, you took out a tissue from your pocket and handed it to the boy.

"Here, kid. Use it to wipe your face. Looks like you need it." you said, trying to be as polite as you could.

He looked at it and then back at you for a few minutes, before taking it without saying as much as a thank you and began to clean his face and blow his nose. He was a bit calmer by the time he was done.