With each breath, a delicate, silvery glow escaped the boy's lips. From his beautiful eyes, as his parents had once called them, small crystals now flew, falling and hitting his pale cheeks. It was a November night, after all, and the cold was taking its toll. Michael ran as fast as his legs, his young legs, could carry him. Nothing mattered anymore; he wanted to get away from home. He had no intention of going back, because he knew his parents would drive him crazy again, even to the point of hating them. They kept talking about how he was worse than his brother, how he didn't win any matches or competitions, how it would be best if he'd never been born, and how it was all his fault. A 16-year-old boy needs support, especially from his father, not to mention his mother. Where should he find it? In counseling? Absolutely not. Of course, the psychologist will sit down with him and talk, but what good is that? When he gets home, it's pure hell. He prefers not to waste time on it. He can sit under a large poplar tree, reminiscing about old times.
Michael's mother used to be different. Less than three years ago, when the boy poured boiling water on his fifteen-year-old brother, she went crazy. She didn't care for the older, injured child, but screamed at the top of her lungs at poor Michael. It all ended in the hospital, where he had to have a skin graft performed on the burn.
"And it's my fault? It's her fault... I know, if I hadn't touched it... This tragedy wouldn't have happened if she'd known what to do, and she just stood there screaming, I hate her! Maybe they're right. It would have been best if I left? Maybe so, but I'll fight," the distraught boy muttered to himself. He didn't know what to do now, whether to go to his best friend, the girl who had taught him so many things. Maybe not necessarily good ones, but there was always a pleasant atmosphere. Michael once had a crush on her—the first kiss, the cigarette, the weed. That's what he's learned, and he regrets nothing. He simply loves her like no one else in this world. He knows he'll always find support in her.
After sitting under a tree for about a dozen minutes, the boy stood up, wiped his cheeks, and walked toward Ann. That was the name of this special person. She lived at number 9 Sun Street. She had a sister, Meg, who was someone she could tell anything to; she trusted her very much. She also lived with her mother and father, who always came home late because he ran a state-renowned business. There was a long history with her mother. Their relationship was so-so. They often argued, almost always over trivial matters. However, when things got really bad, she could always count on her fifty-year-old mother. After all, she was the one she talked to about her problems, sought advice from, and told her about boys. Ann's mother had enormous respect for Michael. She considered him a well-mannered, handsome young man with a good heart. Ana lived in a single-family house. She lived on the ground floor, which made access to her room very easy at inappropriate hours. After all, it was already after 11 p.m. The boy wanted to vent to his friend. He jumped the fence, ran to the girl's window, and knocked three times. It was their trademark. When one of them knocked three times, they might know who wanted to visit them.
"Michael, is that you? What happened? Why are you here at my place at this hour? You're crying. "
The boy stood frozen, unable to utter a single word.
"I'm sorry, but I had to come here, it's them again, I hate them." He managed to get a few words out. "I can't do it anymore, what should I do next, they won't leave me alone.
" "You're being dramatic. Ignore them and don't worry about them. Don't give a damn about them all. Why think about idiots? You'll have your own children someday, at least you know what not to do. Come inside, you'll freeze to death here. Come in and don't mutter!" The girl reassured the boy with a firm voice.
"Thanks for everything, you know I love you.
" "But in a friendly way?
" "Sure, I know. You do so much for me, we'll always stick together." – With these words, he threw his arms around her neck. After a moment, they were both looking straight into each other's eyes. Their faces were very close. Suddenly, their lips met. The kiss, filled with pleasure, was like a cure for all the pains tormenting these young people. It wasn't just an ordinary kiss. Only friends don't behave like that; it had to be something more. Michael embraced the girl, their heads touching, and the kiss lasted for several more minutes, the longest they had ever shared. When they broke apart, there was no awkward silence. They embraced each other. They stayed like that for a good ten minutes when suddenly there was a knock.
"Ann, are you asleep yet?" her mother asked .
"Not yet, but don't come in, I'm changing. I'll call you when I'm finished," the frightened daughter choked out. "You have to go now, she can't see you here, you know how she is, she'd kill me with a look and she'd change her mind about you completely.
" "But I don't want to go home, I won't go there, maybe tomorrow morning, let them worry a bit and I'll calm down. Or maybe I won't go back to them at all?
" "Please go now, or I have an idea, wait outside for a moment, I'll let you know when my mother comes out, now go." "Just a moment, Mom..." the confused girl shouted.
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