One whole week has passed and I have noticed a lack of appetite and sleep. Last week was horrible and I don't know what next week will be like. Will it be worse? Better? I don't know. I have to figure it out by myself.
I am feeling extremely sleepy this morning. When I looked at the mirror, its reflection showed me huge eyebags under my eyes. I wish the reflection would be different, but it's the reality. Émile is not at school today. The first class today is French and I try to pay attention, but I feel like I can't. My eyes are extremely heavy and...
"Wake up, Alexei. And come with me", the teacher snaps at me. She has red eyes, which is abnormal. They are normally brown behind her big glasses.
"Why?"
"Just come with me."
She is taking my arm, hurting it with her giant nails, so long and sharp that I could call them claws. The teacher is getting me somewhere, in a very tight place. "You know that you deserve a consequence for that behaviour of yours, right?" She doesn't take the time to be precise about what have I done wrong.
"I am so sorry miss, I haven't slept much tonight and-"
"Shut up. I don't want to hear any excuses."
She lights a match. What is she going to do? She isn't saying anything and throws it on the floor, right in front of me.
"That'll make you understand how Ukrainians are suffering because of your people."
I don't have time to react and she closes the door and locks it. I am screaming, smashing the door excessively hard and trying everything to get out. I am burning, my skin is burning so much I can't feel anything anymore. She laughs, and her laugh becomes more intense and intense, louder, even louder. I am slowly unhearing her laugh now becoming distorted.
"Alexei!"
A loud noise echoes from my desk. She takes my arm, and I jump in surprise.
"Can you resume everything that I explained to the class? Why don't you come in front of the class, just to explain it to us?" The teacher waits for me to answer. This was just a dream, I'm not dead burned alive. Still, the killer in my current nightmare is in front of me.
People are giggling and I look around me, not completely awake and really confused. I am stroking my face with my hands to wake up better."What?"
"We are all waiting, Alexei. Go ahead!"
Everyone looks at me. Some people are waiting to see me getting roasted, and some seem scared. Different types of people in the same class. My mouth now only can make confused responses.
"Miss..."
She waits and yells at me to answer.
"I don't know."
"Why? Because you were sleeping? It explains better now."
I have a straight face and I try to go back to my seat.
"Nuh-uh, you know what?"
She is violently giving me a blue board pen and keeps on yapping at me, with her largely furious face.
"You'll write in front of everyone I am not allowed to sleep in class until the bell rings. This or the principal's office. It's up to you."
Gaspings are coming from everywhere. She can't be serious. And in front of everyone. How embarrassing. "In front of everyone?" I ask.
"Yes. Yes, Alexei! Exactly!"
I am sighing and I write fast. She is pointing out my verb mistakes and makes me start over and over again. It's very not pleasing. People keep on staring at me. I pretend no one is behind me and focus on the board sound. It feels like an eternity.
I just wrote I am not allowed to sleep in class twenty times with a noisy board. All the entertained students rush to grab their things and leave, and I try to do the same.
"You, you are staying."
I know very well I'm in trouble, but I wasn't expecting to stay after the bell. I already did what she asked me to do, what else would she want me to do? A simple apology won't convince her of anything. I know her, and since the beginning of the year, she strongly shows me that she doesn't appreciate me. The teacher looks around the hallways and closes the door.
"I think you know why you are there,mh?" She approaches me, making big clatters with her shoes even if they aren't high heels.
"Yeah, I do."
"Why-why would you sleep in my class?"
"Miss I haven't slept a lot..."
"Not only that but also your French level, Alexei. Move on, you have been in Canada since you were eight years old, I think this should not be too hard to get at least a little bit better, am I right?"
I never have been struggling a lot at school. I normally crash all the classes, besides French. Passing above 80% in all of my classes is easy, but my French marks are mostly under 75%.
"Alexei, this is unacceptable. First, you never participate in class, second, you make mistakes everywhere and third you decide to sleep in class!"
I can't say anything at this point. I don't want to waste my time obstinate her. Sleeping in class is not a decision I make, but something that happens on its own. I know myself, and I would never purposely sleep in my teacher's classes. This is just a lack of respect and I'm aware my parents educated me well.
"To me, dear, you are only trouble in this class. Is that part of your culture, to be like this?"
I think she is being a bit too far. I don't see my family as troubled. I wish there would be people listening to what she says so she could get in trouble, and even more than I am right now.
"No..." I answer, vexed.
"Well, it seems like it."
As if she knows personally anyone else from my culture... No, not because I am Russian that I behave like that. Nationality has nothing to do with my behaviours.
"Miss, are you assuming that you are xenophobic?"
"Why are you bringing this into our conversation?" She crosses her arms, with her strict gaze.
"I don't know, not treating students equally because of their origins and accusing their behaviour to be part of their culture seems to be sort of discrimination, so being xenophobic."
She is stuttering, her words struggling to come out, so I take advantage of it to continue saying what I have to say.
"So I am the only one you hate in that class because I am Russian. You've hated me since the first day of school. I've been noticing that."
The woman looks at me with disgust and annoyance. Maybe because what I say is right. She finally adds something. "I can't keep having a conversation with you. Get out of my class and you say one more word and I'll tell your parents. I didn't keep you after class to be called a xenophobic."
"Okay, I apologize."
I got out of the class, kind of satisfied that I told her everything I had in mind. I did not want to be disrespectful, only honest. The nightmare I did a few moments ago pops up in my mind again and it makes me shiver. The way I felt all the sensations was even more scary.
She closes her door, whispering words that I can hear. They may not belong to my ears, but I still can hear. "This boy is nonsense."
I pretend like I haven't heard anything. I don't want to have any other problems with her. She just has to realize by herself that she is what she denied being.
[...]
2:25 pm. Nobody is around to supervise us and it's break time. I open my locker, grabbing everything I need for the next class.
"Look at Putinov here."
I guess this is the new nickname Félix and his toxicities created. He seems like he is recording me, because he holds his phone pretty straight, and directly in front of me.
"What do you want again?" I sigh.
People are starting to join and record me. My friends are around me, protecting me and seem ready to throw insults at him if they need to.
"I don't want anything, I am just exposing a guy that rapes Ukrainians for some territory and bombing hospitals."
"Félix this isn't funny. Put your phone down", I don't want to stand in front of the phone and not do anything.
"Awwww, you think words can stop me? Look how intimidated I feel", he fakes shivering and the rest of the people hanging out with him are laughing. He keeps on recording me and saying disgusting things about war, associating me with them. I can't keep on hearing his foul words any longer.
As my impulsive thoughts are telling me what to do, I stand up very fast, taking his phone and smashing it very hard on the floor. The cracking sound is very satisfying.
"WHAT! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!?"Félix is stopping his show and squats on the floor to pick up his phone- now broken.
I am looking at everyone, while they have their mouth wide open. My friends are looking at me with their mouths wide open as well, and I make a death stare at Félix right before deciding to suddenly run away. Very fast. Running away from this class, this school. My three friends are holding my arm so I can't leave, but I run away anyway.
Very thankfully, there are no teachers around the hallways and I reach the exit door of the school, to leave everything behind. I don't have my phone with me, nor my wallet, anything. Not even my coat. Running was the only thing that was on my mind and I feel like I didn't have any other options left. Standing up there letting him record me? No. Waiting to go to the principal's office for the second time? This isn't an option either. I am keeping on running, and realize soccer has been so useful in my life because it allows me to be particularly fast.
I don't pay attention to the red lights and some cars are honking at me. Adrenaline is preventing me from running. I find myself in random streets approximately five to seven minutes from the school full of shops and I enter a cafe, to warm me up before I run again; I was already freezing. I am trying to find a table that isn't next to the window, not raising my eyes at the menu behind the barista.
"What are you doing there, young man? Aren't you supposed to go to school?" An old man asks me, his newspaper in his hands.
I look at him, not knowing what to say. I think this is none of his business. I really don't have the mood to reply.
"I'm on my break", I say coldly. My heart is still beating fast, and he looks at me troubled.
It's not usual for me to lie, but I don't want him to call the police. I think the school just did it anyway, it wouldn't be a surprise.
"Are you even allowed to leave the school during breaks?"
I reply, only with a mhmh. I feel warm again and I think it's time for me to go somewhere else before he does anything to get me in trouble. "What are you doing without a coat? It must be freezing outside. Are you okay?"
"I'll go back, thanks for reminding me. The recess ends soon." I end it there.
"Have a great day, young man", he still seems to suspect me
I won't go back to school. There is no way I am coming back there. Not today as I know.
3:37 pm.
I am opening the door to leave and run quite slower than when I just ran away from school. I get far away from the cafe from running to walking in the most random directions and not really caring about where I am.
3:52 pm.
Nothing is going on in my mind right now. Nothing. Just walking and running away the furthest I can. I am not recognizing where I am going and it has been now 15 minutes I am walking. I sacrifice myself with the cold and I decide to walk more and more even though I'm almost suffering.
4:05 pm.
I lost track of time and I really can't handle the cold anymore. I see a library out of nowhere, which is a huge relief. I'll spend the afternoon there so I'll be warmer.
There is a pleasuring big puff of heat going on my face as I reach the door. I walk around for a bit and decide to search for an interesting book that I'll get to read and that could distract me with the mess that I just did. I don't know how long I'll stay there, but I know that it'll be for a while. Even hours, who knows?
5:00 pm.
It has now been almost an hour and my school ended an hour ago. I suddenly struggle reading, because my dad, who will probably deeply kill me and my mom, ready to have a heart attack are appearing in my mind. I bet my sister is worried to death as well and I now want to go back in time. Standing up and walking around is what I have in mind to change my ideas.
"Hi dear, we are closing a little bit earlier today... I am so sorry, I have to tell people to leave."
A library closing at 5:00 in the afternoon is pretty rare I can tell. It feels awkward, and I have no plans of where to go next. The library was the perfect spot. Now I have nowhere to go.
"Oh okay, no problems. Have a great day."
"Have a great day too!" The young woman smiles at me with sympathy.
I am leaving the library and walking, desperate to find a place where I could stay again. Running away from school was unplanned. Knowing myself I would already know where to go... I walk for about I don't know how many minutes but I hide my hands in my pockets, to at least not freeze from the hands.
I arrive at a place that looks quite poor and unsafe but I don't care. I am used to those kinds of places anyway. I still feel a blockage in my stomach, a stress that will follow me all night.
5:12 pm.
There is finally a place, ten minutes or so later walking, where there is heat seeming to come off of the building so I try to get in, but it's locked. I sit down, not knowing what I'm going to do, rubbing my hands together and blowing on them to create heat. It's a good day to wear a sweater today because I could have worn a shirt, which would be worse.
It's boring, I calmly wait and think but at least I am not at school anymore, having to deal with things I don't want to deal with. Straight away, a woman smoking walks past me. She stops walking, in front of my face.
"Would you like to have one?" She seems strange.
"No, I don't smoke. But thank you", that would be truly messed up to accept a cigarette from a stranger in this condition.
"Interesting, you take care of your health."
She is slightly smiling, enough for me to see her yellow teeth from the cigarette and she gets next to me. She seems to be in her mid 30's, and not very much dressed. The only thing she wears is a very short dress, thighs and a fake fur-looking jacket. Without forgetting high heels are not made for slippery and icy floors at all.
"Do you mind if I use your lighter?" She is not the type of person I would trust, but I have the guts the ask after all.
"No, you can use it. There you go!"
I light the lighter to warm up my hands and I am looking at the flame, thanking her. I try to avoid her, but she still speaks to me.
"So, young man..."
She is getting closer to me, and this makes me highly uncomfortable. She stinks sex.
"What are you doing here? Don't you have your parents waiting for you?"
I am not saying a word. I almost hate her for reminding me of this.
"I guess you are escaping, huh? Such a rebel..."
The woman is getting closer to me, while I am trying to step back. She is stroking my hair, complimenting me.
"What a beautiful boy... What is your name?"
I still am not saying anything.
"Okay, I'll call you Arthur then."
I try to keep a distance from her but she keeps coming closer. Staying quiet is a great way to not seem approachable easily. She pauses, stroking my face.
"Look at you, beautiful golden hair, dark brown eyes..."
I am clearing my throat and her eyes full of makeup (poorly done by the way), are examining my face. The snow that melted on her face made her seem like she cried at a wedding.
"Are you cold? You look so tired, darling..."
Stay back. Stay back!
"Well..."
She is sliding her hand on my leg, tempting to slide it a little higher. She stares at me with lust.
"You could go to my house, you know so I could host you... for a while... What do you think? You got any money on you?"
Absolutely not. I think she wants something more than hosting me and that is creepy. And what is she trying to do? She is looking at me as if I was a man full of testosterone who wants her as much as she wants me.
I am taking her arm away from my pants. "No! What are you doing?"
"You will!" She imposes on me.
"No, I am okay. I'll be able to call my parents somewhere!"
"Arthur... You won't regret coming with me."
"I am okay miss, thank you for the lighter."
Even if I am standing up to leave, she takes my arm, and I fear her nails are going to infect my skin.
"You are coming with me."
I say no, in a very clear way. The woman or I can say prostitute, is taking my arm twice harder and starts dragging me towards her place. I finally remove my arm from her hand and start running very fast.
"If you think I'll let a beautiful boy like you go! I need the money! I can do to you what you want in exchange!"
"I don't even have my wallet!"
I continue to run and I turn my head towards her, while she follows me. Just like a boy my age has a wallet full of gold... She tries to run with her high heels and I am thinking about screaming for help. I still have her red lighter and I am throwing it on the floor.
"Come here, sweetie!!!" Her technique of "kidnapping" is in the least subtle and smart. Exposing herself is what she is doing right now.
She still runs after me and suddenly screams, slipping on the ice. Laughing would be my honest reaction, but I continue to run. If it were another woman, of course, I would help her, but I can't put my life in danger.
That is just sad, actually, the unclean industry of women giving their bodies to anybody for an amount of plastic paper that they desperately need. I am disgusted just by thinking about it. Maybe this woman wouldn't even let me see my parents ever again. She expects that I would impress her, but I have zero experience in what she does daily probably for these pieces of paper in question.
[...]
5:23 pm.
I am hearing a police siren and I am recognizing my parent's car. Please, no... I notice that it follows me and I stay there, in shock, but then run again. I see my both parents and my sister there, and yet I still get the stupid idea to run. The police catch me in their car.
"My baby!" My mom's voice is cracking from her crying.
There we go.
My mother is running to hug me, so tight that I barely can breathe. I don't feel released at all, even in her arms. "We are going to have a talk at home." She now remains serious.
I am staying silent because I don't know how to react. But what I know is that home won't be peaceful tonight.
"Did she touch you?" she asks.
"Who?", I know exactly who she is talking about, even if I pretend I don't.
"The woman who followed you! Did she touch you? Don't act innocent!" Her voice is now raising.
She is looking at me with teary eyes and seems to panic, wanting to cry in my arms again but at the same time yelling at me for a second time. "Alexei, be honest!"
I now admit she did. My mom is covering her mouth with her hands and cries again. My dad is waiting in the car, his furious gaze on me accompanying him. "Where?!" She is begging me to say everything in all its details.
"My leg but I stopped her from touching me somewhere else."
She is in shock, and my sister seems to want to know all the drama going on.
"I want to kill her", Russian is useful for this comment, because the police can't understand a word.
I know that if she could, she would. She is a very decisive mother, full of will. This woman always means what she says.
"How does she look like?"
Because I still have the outfit of the creepy lady stuck in my head, I describe to my mom all that I remember of it. Still, this isn't enough for her. The description of her face is now detailed enough for my mother to have a proper pejorative portrait in her head. If she finds her, a criminal record will already be waiting for her.
She is looking to her right to see if she sees the woman from afar and she then looks at me, still protecting me with her arms as if I was a toddler. "Have you found her, sir?"
"I didn't, but my colleague did. Everything is fine now, miss. She got arrested and we'll see the details later. Someone saw your son seeming in danger, so the person called us."
She constantly thanks the police officer.
"There is nothing to worry about anymore, everything is under control now", another policeman adds.
My mom is nodding with her teary eyes and is stroking my back. She asks where the woman is, and the police specify that she's already arrested, once again.
I can see that my dad waited for too long, so he is now getting out of the car. While my mom is being calmer, he is taking the opportunity to yell at me and shake me with his hands on my shoulder. "Why did you run away from school, huh?! Why did you do it?! Do you even realize that I had to get out of work earlier just to deal with your bullshit?"
My mom is snapping at him because he swore, and I do not talk back. I broke an expensive phone that was recording me and ran away to not confront the principal once more. He is shaking me more, waiting for a response. "Answer me!!!"
Thankfully, the police are just next to us. My father is just projecting himself as the mean character right now. He doesn't stop shaking me and isn't ashamed of doing so in front of men who could complicate his life.
"Sir, do not put pressure like this on your son. It won't work this way."
He is slowly looking towards the police's face. This is his post-embarrassing reaction.
"Is he your son? Hm? Well as I see no, so I raise my son the way I desire!"
Here comes his embarrassing comeback. I'm not even surprised that he acts like this. If someone tells him something he doesn't like, he'll talk back, even if it's a literal policeman.
"I'll ask you to talk to me politely, sir!"
"Mind your own business between me and him, alright?"
The man is silent for a few seconds. I am hiding my face with my hands. That's my reaction when I get embarrassed, like everyone's. The police ask my father to have a talk with me, and he surprisingly accepts.
"Fine!"
He is looking at me and is waiting, close to our car. The police are looking directly into my eyes and are starting the discussion he wanted to have with me. He asks me normal questions, but the more he asks, the more personal it gets. For example, he asks me how I am feeling and asks me to remind him of my age. Not long after, he asks me why I escaped, which I refuse to explain other than saying for personal reasons. Without any surprises, my reply isn't satisfying the cop.
"You know that I won't be able to help you if you don't tell me", he says.
The thing is that I don't need help. I don't see what the police could do to a literal 13-year-old boy who recorded me anyway.
"Are you conscious that you put yourself into a very dangerous situation? If you weren't strong enough, you could have been kidnapped, and this is a big deal, Alexei. Especially since this place is not safe. You understand what I am saying?"
He keeps on doing his job, while I only answer "I do". He reassures me that I won't go anywhere. Apparently, that's my parents that called about my disparition, and he's only there to protect me. His questions are getting the same as my mom's, like if the woman touched me in many ways, so I answer the same as earlier.
There is his out-of-context question, that I didn't expect at all. "How is your relationship with your dad? Are you experiencing any sort of violence there? Is he violent to you?"
Surprising fact about my dad; my dad doesn't drink like an alcoholic and he doesn't have any diagnosed behaviour issues. He is just like this, impatient and puts pressure on me to be well-mannered. I guess a Dad has to make his son good. He has his... Own ways.
"It's a normal relationship. He's just stricter than many other Dads in here."
Okay, maybe spanking and using a belt on occasion even if prohibited counts, but that's not often enough to be considered "abuse". That's how I used to be disciplined and I don't want to make my Dad go to jail for this. He isn't always like this. But fair enough, it's concerning for a policeman to see a father screaming his lungs out to his son, shaking him as if there was no tomorrow.
"I can't tell if you are telling me the truth, but I doubt you are."
"I swear, I do."
He is still doubting. Now, he makes a speech about me being aware if I see any abuse in my household. He gives me a card, with a phone number and contact details if ever I need help. My father is a few miles away, and I'm taking it, even if not planning to call there.
"Thank you", I'm forcing my smile.
I don't seem neutral, either about to panic. It seems like I am lying but I am simply so stressed. No police ever came asking questions to me that way. "Alright, I'll let you be. I am Éric, by the way."
"Nice to meet you."
He is giving me a fist bump after I told him my last name because he asked so. I get close to the car, and my father is taking my arm slightly, getting me into the back seat. I know that if the cops weren't there, he would take my arm much harder.
Before leaving, my mother say a few words to the team. "I am sorry for my husband's behaviour towards you, sir."
"I accept your apologies, miss. Thank you."
I can see her dark hair moving in the cold wind. Effectively, it's excessively cold outside and I have no clue why I handled it for such a long time. Adrenaline, maybe. My dad's eyes are rolling, hearing the apology his wife gave to the police.
"He is a good man, you know. He is just not really patient..."
"I understand, not everyone has the ability to stay calm after this situation."
In the silent car, he sighs after rolling his eyes. Anastasia is getting my attention my pushing me because her curiosity is now killing her. She probably wants to know everything from A to Z.
"That's true. And thank you again for finding my son, I was so worried... I hope the woman will go to jail."
I start to not pay attention to what my mother and police say, and try to ignore my sister.
"You are welcome, miss and it's part of my job. And yes, there is a high chance she will."
She is keeping on asking infinite questions to him, which slows down the process of getting home and being yelled at.
My mother finally gets in the car with us, still in shock but not saying anything, just like everybody right now. My sister is now kicking my leg, enough for me to scream in pain.
🐣Sister🐣
What happened?
My phone rings, and I open it looking at my sister. I know very well her technique is to text instead of talking.
Me
Why would you kick me like that?
I am closing my phone and she is looking at me with a serious face, not satisfied with the reply.
🐣Sister🐣
Dude I want to know what happened!
Does she really need to know? Anastasia Andreyevna is a girl who counts every drama as a Netflix serie. Nobody can escape her if they are victims of the drama. So, I got to deal with that.
Me
Well, that is none of your business, first. Second, you are too young to understand.
That is my favorite reply and that's a pro of having a younger sibling. Well, she is thirteen, I know that she will understand but there is no point in telling her.
🐣Anastasia🐣
Alexei, I am your sister, there is nothing wrong with sharing with me what is happening in your life!
She'll beg me until I become a skeleton and get buried under a grave.
Me
I almost got kidnapped by a lady, are you happy?
She lifts her head from her phone to look at me with trauma so that means the tea is interesting to her.
🐣Sister🐣
What the heck?
Me
Yeah
🐣Sister🐣
How did that happen?
Me
She saw me and wanted to host me. I refused, so she forcefully led me by the hand to where she lives
🐣Sister🐣
But what happened to school?
Me
Natsya, enough.
Natsya is a nickname all of our family gives her.
She isn't fed up with my details enough to leave her phone.
🐣Sister🐣
Did she do something else, the woman?
I sigh and reply. Her perseverance is exhausting.
Me
Stop asking questions, I've already told you enough
🐣Sister🐣
But why did you run away from school like that?
Me
Anastasia...
🐣Sister🐣
But I want to know?!
Мe
Do you want to know something interesting?
🐣Sister🐣
If it's about why you ran away from school, yes. I was so scared for you!!!
Me
It's not, but turn off your phone, look out the window and count the cars ;)
She wouldn't let go. I had to make her stop digging like this.
🐣Sister🐣
Stop taking me for a fool
Me
Then, again, you won't find out, simple as that
She is loudly sighing and closes her phone. Will she look out the window and count the cars? Even if I don't feel like talking about it, she completely ignores it.
The skies are now grey, the snow is depressing and the car is in its most quiet. We are arriving home and my nervous system is not enjoying it. I know that for now, I would run to my room, but God planned something else. I would get out of here, disappear, teleport somewhere about a hundred kilometres away, hide... Anything, but not being confronted by my mother. "I would like to talk with you, Alexei", her powerful maternal voice tone hits me.
She's mad or upset by me. And she rarely is. Of course, it would happen. No mothers would act neutral after their child ran away. Not as I know.
"What?"
The calmness of her face oppositely to her voice makes me even more nervous.
"Alexei, I am very disappointed in you. I wouldn't say I, but we. Your father and I. We were so worried!"
It's obvious she wants a justification magically popping up, but there is none. None that I would justify without them pursuing me after.
"Do you know the weather outside? Minus 7 degrees, Alexei! You didn't have a coat, nothing!" Her eyes lock on my red hands and cheeks, which are anguishing warmth.
"You were in a very unsafe place all alone and a crazy woman tried to kidnap you!"
Right now I know I would be locked in her basement, being her slave of money. Doing whatever to me to satisfy her desires, maybe even if I don't have anything on me. Taking advantage of my youth probably appealed to her, because at her age she couldn't find any men that collagen kept on developing on their faces.
"And you are probably going to catch a cold."
Well, I feel it coming already, my throat starts to tickle.
"What is going on with you, Alexei?"
Nothing, absolutely nothing. I am just doing what I think is best to avoid trouble. My shoulders are shrugging and my mouth keeps on being shut.
"I'll never know how to help you if you don't tell me what is going on at school."
I heard this sentence twice today. The reaction she would have if I told her the story behind the intensely impulsive behaviour I just acted on does not make me want to be honest.
My silence pisses my mother off, so she leaves, mentioning she'll make dinner.
I thought the trouble was gone, but now there is a twice bigger coming.
That's what I mean when I say bigger trouble; my father now slowly coming in, after exchanging a discouraged glance with my mom. "I'm not done with you, Alexei", while my mom is already gone in the kitchen, we are both stuck together.
Here we go again.
"What were you thinking, Alexei? I got a message from the principal! Not only you did RUN away from school, but also you literally BROKE someone's phone, Alexei! Do you even understand what you're doing? For God's sake, what is in your mind?"
The smell of the seasoned food my mom is preparing is already scattering throughout the whole house, including the room my father and I are stuck in.
"Dad, I was being recorded-", hopefully, he will use his ears for listening to my explanations.
His mouth is being used, but not his ears. He is interrupting me and keeps on snapping at me. "LISTEN TO ME! Alexei, this is not a reason to throw a phone worth almost a thousand dollars on the floor!"
To me it is, and I feel somehow not guilty for a bit. Self-defence is not an excuse, but a right explanation for doing things that seem worse than what we had to deal with. I understand it doesn't make sense for everyone yet.
"Yes Dad, it is"
My dad is laughing and looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "Well, you know what? YOU ARE PAYING FOR THIS PHONE. I don't care if you plan to use the money you worked for to buy expensive clothes as you always do. I'll take five hundred dollars off your card and you give it to this guy!"
"No, Dad!"
"Oh yes, Alexei. I am your father, there is nothing you can do to stop me."
This is the exact same sentence he uses when my sister or I implore him to not do what he threatens to do.
"Okay, okay, I will give him the money", even if I don't plan to do so, I tell him.
"Do you think I believe you? Do you really think that I believe you? Oh no, I will give the money to the director. Your money. There is nothing you can do about it.", is telling my dad before closing the door loudly. Close to slam it, I could tell.
I am feeling very frustrated that he isn't listening to what I have to say. My fists are magically clenching, and my nerves make me feel like throwing many things on the floor but my conscious knows it's useless. After staring at the ground for a moment, I am deciding to lay on my bed and interlace my fingers, talking to God. Talking about what I did today, everything that comes to my mind and the awful depressing place that we all seem to be slaves in. Well, it feels like that for now but it was fine before. Before war.
Now, not only that I get bothered at school, but I also found out that there are so many videos of me that people from school took to publish them everywhere on the internet. My reputation isn't stopping getting worse.
We are having dinner and I am staring at my plate, forcing myself to eat to not make my mother even more upset. The ambiance is really heavy and I get a feeling that it would be better if I eat in my room. Having my both parents and sister eating at the same table as me, knowing that I ran away from school for almost three hours straight is not something that makes me want to be there.
I just want peaceful seclusion to make me reflect on all the mess that happened today. That's all.
After eating half of my plate, the shower is waiting for me. The shower is an amazing place in my opinion, and I am probably not the first one thinking this. It's the perfect place to think for hours while staring at the floor, in the hot water tensing the muscles. Hot water is better than cold water, absolutely better. As I get in the shower, I turn on the water and let the emptiness I feel drown in the warm drops. My mother is upset at me, my whole school is avoiding me from everywhere and my reputation is completely demolished. What will happen with the new video that classmates recorded? I hate this feeling of distress and internal pain. It's becoming stronger these days, and it drives me crazy. Why not pain be somewhere else?
I am looking at the shower head and decide to put the water on hotter. Hotter again, and until it burns. It now burns so bad that it feels extremely painful for my back. But I prefer this over feeling pain inside of me. I am then letting the boiling water fall all over my body and I close my eyes, trying to handle the pain with difficulty. I'm trying to see if it'll distract the psychological pain.
After a few minutes, I am getting out of the boiling water, leaving my body all red, from everywhere. I hope it's not noticeable. I am putting my night clothes on and leaving the bathroom, not sure if I feel better. I open my phone while laying in bed, as I do every day, putting my phone on silent mode so that way I won't get bothered. One hour, two hours and three hours later I am still up, watching whatever is on my page and knowing it's past my bedtime. I don't care, I can't sleep anymore anyway. My brain reminds me of how much I'll be in trouble tomorrow. I don't know how Émile would react to this. Will he report? The best solution is to not tell him anything.
It's 11:45 pm and I get a message. It's Vicky. She sent me a picture of her face, out of context. She has glossy lips, untied hair and the background of the picture is black. I only see her face with a flash. I catch myself realizing how beautiful she is.
Me
What are you doing still up?
I slightly smile, not complaining she is still awake.
Vicky
I am not able to sleep!
Me
Same here, don't worry.
Vicky
Are you having insomnia too?
Me
I usually don't have insomnia but it happens that I struggle to sleep
Vicky
I get it. I have insomnia and it sucks.
Despite my harsh day, she made it better. We had been texting for hours and when she decided to sleep, it was 2 am. I am getting the feeling of emptiness again after she left and I told myself I wish we could keep on texting every night, as we just did. I don't know if I like her yet, but she has potential. Her ability to bring subjects without making it awkward is outstanding.
May God bless this beauty.