3

I stood in the bathroom, staring in the mirror at my reflection. Neither he nor I felt like what was to come today. I felt torn inwardly while he looked so outward. The long black hair, pulled down in a ponytail, already needed a fresh bottom. In each ear a silver tunnel, the left is decorated with three more surgical steel earrings. He had ugly dark circles under his brown eyes, and the scar under his left eyebrow seemed even brighter white than ever. He wasn't ready for it. Neither he nor I.

I let the cold water run in the sink and waited a while for it to run out to be icy. I then rinsed my face several times. It was like a freezing slap that didn't work for me anyway.

But it was worth a try.

I dried myself, glanced at the mirror again, and tried to smile.

My facial muscles contracted and my reflection looked like he was having a kidney colic.1

Oh great.

I removed the strange grin from my face and left the bathroom. I returned to the room, ignored the general mess, and headed for my backpack. At that moment, I noticed that I had forgotten to turn off the computer. Damn. I've probably been late now, but I'd rather spend a lot of time checking out and waiting for the store to shut down. I didn't need my mom rummaging through this until I got home.

With a backpack thrown over one shoulder, I then flew out of the room and ran down the stairs to the ground floor. Mom was sitting by the kitchen island, which was the imaginary boundary between the kitchen and the living room. Her short black hair was trimmed into a mikada, which was shorter at the back and longer at the front, her hazel eyes gleamed strangely, and her red nails tapped into the worktop completely out of rhythm. She looked good. But maybe it was just that she applied more makeup than usual.

"Hello, Mom!" I yelled at her, about to disappear into Bond's.

"Ollie!" Her cry stopped me. She got up from her coffee and gave me a stern look that mixed a lot of things I didn't want to understand at the moment.

I stopped, took a breath, and waited.

Mom folded her arms across her chest, as if she needed to hold together somehow. "Don't forget to visit the counselor, as the headmistress recommended."

"Does it really have to be today?" I snapped at her, quite annoyed.

Now the phrase 'I want to be a good mom, but I know it's too late,' appeared on her face. "She really has to. You know that was one of the conditions for your admission to Discovery. "

Discovery High School was an average public school and was suitable for me for two reasons. Reason number one: She didn't cost my mom a penny and that was good because she couldn't afford more. Reason number two: They didn't want to take me anywhere else.

So I had to leave the barracks fifteen minutes earlier to make it to school in time because it was two miles away. And I also had no idea how long parking would take me there. Although I somehow assumed that there would probably not be so many people with their own cars in the state. I owned a Ford Mustang from the '65. That was probably the only thing I could thank Dad for. But that never happened.

I tucked my hands in my jeans pockets. "Oh yeah. I'll try to stop behind her. "I thought it was closed and ran right out the door before something worse happened here.

I got on the Mustang on the driveway, salted the Psychosocial from Slipknot on the radio, and fired it away. The old neighbor, who was just passing by, picked up his cane and threatened me with it. Luckily I didn't hear him. I bet he didn't give me very nice nicknames right now.

But I didn't care. The last months of my life were drenched in a whirlwind of anger that ate me from within. The path of my life was going nowhere because I didn't want to. I didn't want to think about the future, I didn't want to be reasonable. I wanted to break something and leave my bloody footprints on the face of the world. I wanted to get what burned me alive.

I drummed my fingers to the rhythm of the chorus and sang to the singer. Music was one of the few things that worked like a valve. And it was safe, unlike the other bullshit I did. But I probably didn't want to deal with that much either.

Twenty minutes later, I successfully parked in front of the school. I looked in the rearview mirror, which reflected the figures of my future classmates, who were gathering in groups and apparently discussing the latest gossip.

All right, Ollie. You can handle this. You'll just pretend to be the lonely hardened guy who hates everyone ... not wait. I don't really have to pretend this. I pulled a leather cord with a pendant from the mirror, pulled it over my head, and then hid Thor's hammer, drawn in silver, behind his T-shirt.

Inhale.

I got out of the car. Most of the views in the area were aimed directly at me.

Exhale.

Shit on it. I was supposed to go to school and spend a few extra hours in the bistro.

My gaze was caught by the stop next to the parking lot, where other students got off the bus. One of them caught my eye at first sight. Red hair curled up in a sloppy bun, expressive eyeliner, black clothes and big white headphones bumped on his ears.

She ignored the whole world, and the whole world probably ignored her.

No, not really.