...and there stands a boy, the same age as me.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house?", I ask him stunned.
How did he get in here? And why is he even in here?
"No, stop. What are you doing here? You just wanted to break in.", he says, looking at me.
"Me? Breaking in here? Good joke. That's my house.", I say in a serious voice.
"No it isn't. I'm living here with my mother and my 3 sisters."
What? How is that possible.
Just in that moment something occurs to me.
"For how long have you been living in there?", I ask him, my voice a bit softer again.
"I think for 6 or 7 months. I'm not sure."
Oh no. She can't be serious. How could she do that?
"Oh I understand. I'm sorry that I... uhm wanted to come in here. Good evening.", I say, looking to the floor.
Please I don't have to cry now.
"Hey, wait. Are you okay?", he asks me.
I look up to him and nod.
Just as I want to go there's someone else on the door.
"Milan? Who's there?", a girls voice says.
And in that moment a two or three year old girl comes through the door.
He takes her on his arm and she smiles at me.
"What's your name?", she asks me then.
"I'm Leya. And who are you?", I ask her back and smile a bit.
"Adeja.", she replies a bit shyly and hides her head in his brother's neck.
"What a pretty name.", I say and she smiles.
I love little children. They're always so sweet.
"But Milan and Adeja don't sound British."
"Yeah that's right. Our parents are from Albania. And you? You don't look British too."
"Yes that's also right. We are Spanish."
"Milan. Who's at the door?", an older woman shouts.
A few seconds later the woman stands next to Milan and Adeja.
"Who are you?", she asks me unkindly.
"My name is Leya. I'm here because of a missunderstanding. I'm sorry to have disturbed you.", I say and smile at her.
Her gaze becomes friendly.
"Do you want to come in? You look like you could need some warmth.", she then asks.
Normally I wouldn't go inside a strangers house but that's different. This is my house.
I just nod and follow Milan into the house.
I still don't understand how my mother hasn't told me anything about selling the house.
And what happend with all the things I left in my room.
The pictures of me and my dad, of me and my sister. Are they all gone?
We sit down on the couch.
"So what lead you to us.", the woman asks.
"My mother didn't tell me that she was selling the house. I used to live here with her. We moved to Germany about ten months ago and then we we visited London again because she said she had something to do here. Now I know what she meant."
"Oh. I'm so sorry about that. What used to be ur room?", she asks me kindly.
"The one under the roof. The biggest one."
"Ah. That's Milans room now. If that's okay with him, you're welcome to go up and have a look."
We both look at Milan, who just nods.
So I get up and walk up the stairs. Milan walks behind.
When we get to the room, I look around, to where the pictures used to hang.
But the walls are empty.
"Um... this might be a strange question but when you moved in here, maybe there were some pictures here? Or a box with pictures in it?", I ask, still looking at the room.
"No. I don't think so," he replies.
"Are you sure about that? They were really important to me.", I say desperately while tears are already coming again.
"Wait a minute. I'll ask my mother for a moment.", he says and leaves the room.
Now I can't stop the tears and they run down my cheek one by one.
I am so disappointed in my mother. I still can't understand how she kept this from me.
"Look. My mother found these in the cupboard. She kept them," he says and hands me 4 pictures.
More tears stream down my face and I quickly wipe them away, hoping Milan doesn't see them.
But it's way too late anyway.
"Are you really okay?" he asks afterwards.
"Yes, I think so. The pictures are of my sister and of my father. They are both no longer alive. That's also the reason we moved away from here."
"Oh. I'm sorry about that. I didn't know that," he replies.
"It's all good. Listen, I'm sorry for just barging in here and acting like such a lunatic now."
"No you're not. I can understand you." he says, smiling.
"Thank you for being so kind and for giving me back the pictures. But I think it's time for me to go," I say, getting up and leaving the room.
He walks behind me again and then finally tells the rest of his family that I am leaving.
"If you're ever here in London again, feel free to come by again," the slightly older woman says.
I just nod and thank her again and then finally leave.
But where to? I can't go back yet.
I need air to breathe.
No matter where I am at the moment and no matter with whom, they take away the air I need to breathe.
So I walk up and down the streets, my head full of random thoughts.
When I look up from my thoughts for the first time, I am standing at the grave of my sister and my father.
The grave definitely does not look good. But what did I expect? After no one has been here for almost a year.
After all, I still have a day off tomorrow. I'll just come here alone and make it nice again. I stand still for a few seconds and take a few deep breaths.
And suddenly it starts to rain.
So I quickly run to the next underground station and go straight back to the hotel.
When I get to my room, Tom and Kiara are sitting there just as they were before I left.
The only difference is that they are no longer alone, but Mrs Schwarz is sitting on one of the empty beds.
Ou shit. That's exactly what I need right now.
"Where were you?" she asks me with crossed arms and a stern look.
"I needed some fresh air," I answer her and take off my jacket without looking at her.
"It's 0:22. How long have you been getting fresh air?" she asks me angry.
"Until I feel better, okay?" I say, pissed off now.
"I can't just let this go," she says and stands up.
"Okay. What do you want to do? Send me home now? Call my mother? Throw me out of school? If that's what it is, go ahead. I don't care," I say as my voice gets quieter and quieter.
I look once at Tom, who smiles triumphantly, and then once at Kiara, who doesn't even look at me.
Why does every friendship I have always turn out to be false? Do people like to hurt and destroy me so much?
"I'm tired. Can all those who are not out of the room please leave now," I ask quietly.
"If you had stayed here, you could have gone to sleep much earlier," Mrs Schwarz says again.
They are really starting to get on my nerves.
"No, I couldn't, because this fucking asshole has been sitting on my fucking bed for three hours. Should I sleep and he sits on top or what?", I almost scream.
"Leya, please control your tone and choice of words. And you could have just asked him to leave," she says again, still calm.
"I fuck on my choice of words and tone. And I tried to kick him out of this room, which I can't because he's a fucking liar and she's stabbing me in the back. She told me not to be a dick so I just left. Isn't that right?" I ask the two of them.
"Mrs Schwarz, that's not true. I came here to the room because Kiara called me and said that Leya had disappeared. Then we went to get her because we were worried," Tom finally says.
"Ah okay. Now I understand. You've been sucking up here all this time until I couldn't take it any more, so I'd leave and you could sic the fucking teachers on me. I think the award for biggest asshole of the year goes to you and the year has only just begun."
"Leya. That's enough. How do you talk to your classmates?",
"I can't hear you anymore. "Control your choice of words"; "How do you talk to your classmates?", I mimic her.
"In case you haven't noticed. I don't give a shit what you say. But since it's you. I'm going to fucking leave these bitches now," I say, give her a nice smile, take my jacket off the chair and leave.
Just as I walk out the hotel door I hear someone call my name.
When I realise who it is, I walk even faster and don't turn around.
"What do you want?" I ask as Kiara catches up with me.
"Why are you overreacting like this?" she asks me.
I don't turn around but keep walking.
"Omg. Can you shut the fuck up? I'm not overreacting when a girl I've always liked, trusted, told things about myself suddenly stabbed me in the back just because she believes some fucking guy more than me."
"But it's not like that," she says.
"Huh. How is it not like that? YOU ratted me out to the teacher, didn't you? You believed him, didn't you? Don't take me for a fool, I know exactly how it is," I say, still not looking at her, but just walking on.
She stops. I keep on walking.
I walk along all the streets again, in the rain, until I reach my bridge.
I sit down on the bench in front of it and look at the water reflecting the bright lights of the city.
I used to sit here after the accident. A place where you can see many things but they can't see you.
Why is everything always so complicated with me?
I think about everything that happened today and the last time.
Tears are running down my cheek again, only this time there is no one to dry them.