.I'm lying...

This is my room, it's blue, like a summer sky, so joyful, yet so not mine. Even these books, these teddy bears, are so unreal. And this is me. Lying. What a wonderful position, a person's entire life is based on it. We're born lying down, when we grow up, we also need rest, and when we die, they bury us in a coffin lying down. I'm no longer sleeping, I'm just lying down... I look at the clock, which will inevitably strike the hour when it has to ring and I have to get up. And anyway, why should I get up, since no one will notice I'm gone anyway, no one needs me. But the moment comes, and out of social obligation, I go. Even though I went downstairs, no one noticed I was awake, which confirms my belief that no one really cares about me. If there was even one person in the world who was happy to see me... I dressed, as usual, in clothes I hate, ate a breakfast I didn't really like, and went the same boring way as always. I admire those people who enjoyed life, who walked and laughed, walked because they lived, lived to walk and laugh.

School is a collection of lunatics who follow the system and don't think twice. Or maybe that's just how it is, maybe I think too much. In any case, I hate school, not even because I have to study. I actually enjoy studying because I can escape somewhere, like into the world of numbers, literature, or some other crap they give us like mush just to swallow. But who says that? I still let my mother choose my clothes and I don't really have my own opinion, because an unspoken thesis is not a thesis. The situation tends to repeat itself. When I entered the classroom, no one even noticed my arrival. Okay, maybe not anyone. The only person in the entire class who talks to me is Łukasz.

"Hi Laura! How are you?" he said, revealing his flawless white teeth. I'd stopped treating Łukasz like a regular friend for a while now; I felt something more for him, but I didn't have the courage to tell him. "

Hi! Nothing, as usual... well, you know how it is..."

"What were you listening to on the way to the kennel today? Were you torturing yourself with songs about death or something like that again? Girl, stop it because..." "Because

what!!!!??? What are you even talking about!!!!" I shouted at him.

"Nothing, nothing anymore..." he said, lowering his head.

"Oh God! Łukasz, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I know you want to help me." He smiled weakly at me, and I immediately felt lighter. I smiled back.

"OK, apology accepted."

I can even get out of bed in the morning for moments like these, but what difference does it make if Łukasz will never look at me as the object of his "erotic" fantasies, but will always look at me as if I were the gray Laura, perpetually somber that she can be comforted. And even if he did, I wouldn't be accepted in his environment. He's liked and adored by all the girls, and I—complete opposites, a cultural chasm connects us—but oh well!

It's finally over. All my classes are over and I can do what I love most, I just have to get home. I hate walking home in the dark; I've always been afraid of being locked down dark alleys. You know that feeling when you're walking and you think someone's about to jump out with a knife. I know it; it always accompanies me when I cross the path that connects my house with the thoroughfare. But when I walk, make no mistake, I don't walk. I run with my eyes closed. But today I decided differently. I walked slowly (at my normal pace) and listened to music. It was a huge mistake. Because I didn't hear two boys approaching me from behind.

"What's up?" one roared . "Nothing

, what can I have?" I replied calmly. I heard that a calm and decisive tone of voice could save me. But not in my case .

"Don't lie, you bitch," the other said, snatching my CD

. At that moment, I felt a stabbing pain near my rib. Suddenly, everything became blurry. I tried to speak, scream for help, but I couldn't; my voice got stuck in my throat. I was falling.

I woke up in the hospital. At first, I didn't connect the dots, but slowly I pieced it all together. Everything hurt, and everything seemed to be blurry. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway; I didn't recognize it. My first thought was that death had finally come for me, but this figure was strangely familiar and radiated a glow. So maybe it was an angel. No, it wasn't an angel either; it was someone even more wonderful (for me). It was Łukasz. I was so happy to see him. But I didn't understand why he was crying. After all, I was alive. I was here, a little beaten up, but I'd get over it, so what was the point? When he saw I was awake, he came to me and kissed my cheek. Why? What? I don't understand? Why? So many questions, and I intelligently asked one question...

"What are you doing here?" I asked in a voice that if I'd heard it from a human, I would have run away immediately. But he didn't. He was still sitting next to me. He only said, "

You had an accident, two guys beat you up, you have a big wound on your stomach."

"I'm not asking what's wrong with me, I'm asking what you're doing here, what happened to you?"

"Because, you know..." I didn't let him finish as a terrifying moan escaped my lungs. I felt like I was falling. The nurses came and started putting some kind of IV drip on me or something. I don't know, I was too devastated by the next part of his sentence. "I LOVE YOU!" IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I'D HEARD SOMETHING LIKE THAT FROM A BOY. The nurses left, whispered something in Łukasz's ear, and then went out into the hallway, I think, to my parents. I knew what had happened; from now on, I'm a flower. I'm a fucking flower, I couldn't move anything, I couldn't say anything, I just kept blinking. Okay! Okay, I'm not blinking anymore because my eyes are closed, I'm not a flower... I'm... as they say in medicine... oh, I know, I'm a corpse. I look at my body, which doesn't move. I look down at Łukasz, and in the hallway I see my parents. My mother, as usual, is making a show of it—even when I'm dying, she doesn't cry genuinely. And my father, his silent, expressionless gaze—oh, it makes me want to puke just looking at him. But I'm leaving with the knowledge that someone will miss me. This person is sitting next to me now, shedding tears, holding my cold hand, and I don't even hear what he says anymore. I'm happy, I was sure I could leave. Someone loved me, and I loved that someone too.

This cold, almost icy hospital room—it was never mine, but now I feel it's nice, cozy, so mine. And here I am, lying on a bed without a soul. Lying... What a wonderful position a person's entire life is based on. We are born lying down, we grow up, we also need rest, and when we die, they bury us in a coffin lying down...