I shield my eyes from the sun, the weather is getting warmer the last few weeks. Honestly it feels like a burden every time another degree adds itself to the temperature. I always prefer a slight winter, my ability to concentrate diminishes when I need to worry about removing layers of clothes.
The same sun is shining through the small window of the miserable dorm. We are sitting in the middle of it, the warmth of the light dances on Thrjels hair, we are skipping lunch in order to play with the cat. Cyaren has called him Flip, I never asked why to be honest, but I think it's a sweet name. Flip is a curious little kitten, he does not use his nails often, (or at least not to scratch us, he does like to climb our beds.) and he always knows when to cheer someone up. His favourite place is the roof, which I only allow him to enter when I am with him. I don't allow Cyaren to go up there either, every time he asks I feel my hands run cold and can only shake my head. Being one step away from something is more dangerous than knowing the possibility.
Thrjel looks at the cat and smiles lightly, his brain deeper in thought than he realises. Cyaren is drawing something and as he looks up and down constantly to nothing in particular I wonder if he's purposely not cutting his hair or if he is just a child who doesn't know better. I hope he's growing out his hair, with the ripe age he came here it must have erased most memories of his culture. I wonder if he is even aware that everything he is being taught here is to influence him to let a precious part of himself go. His black eyelashes remind me of my sister and my mind cuts me off, it needs to protect itself.
Flip jumps unto my shoulder, I don't know why but the cat is very fond of that. I think it's because it can see more from that point, but Thrjel things Flip likes my hair too. I pet the sweetheart and try to listen to the conversation they're having but I am preoccupied with lightning my cigarette and trying to see what he is drawing.
"You can't look yet Xad!" Cyaren yells and pushes my face away.
"I hate kids." I exclaim while I gesture his hand away. "Careful, you'll burn yourself on the cigarette."
"You told me you have an imaginary kid dear, you can't hate them that much." Thrjel answers with a wink.
I shake my head and chuckle "Well now the dimwit knows everything better."
"Nobody can dislike kids, everybody was one once." The little one says, furiously drawing some kind of line.
Flip meows in my ears and tickles my neck with his fur, I shrug and I hear a distressed exclaim from the little creature whom I might have forgotten to take into account. "Maybe I was a very annoying kid."
Thrjel and Cyaren both chuckle. I smile, "I can't imagine you being even more annoying you mopstick." He says. I whack him on his head and breathe out smoke in his direction.
"Ouch, my ego! But if I were I'd act like you." I quip.
"What were you like when you were my age?" Cyaren asks, he tilts his head in the puppylike way Thrjel has taught him to. I smile while wishing I could disguise my feelings better.
"Did mr. Dimwit put you up to this?" I ask as I ruffle his hair.
"No, I just can't imagine you as a kid." The kid says innocently.
"Honestly, me neither." Thrjel says, and I look at him with a very specific smile and he chokes on his water.
"At your age, let me think." I look up and narrow my eyes as my memories pass me by. "Later it changed, but at your age we were with four, three boys and one girl. We lived in this abandoned steel factory along with pigeons and some rats, the basement was the only place where the rain couldn't invade our life. We had our fun, we were a bit of misfits, and delinquents if I need to be honest. But we had our fun, and we had our kind of family."
"What were they like?" Thrjel asks, I'm surprised he has the guts to poke me for more information. He knows I don't talk about these things, and he knows that all too well too.
"Well of course we were not the only kids on the streets and maybe..." I see Cyaren's face changing, he knows I am avoiding the question. I sigh and smile "I was the smart one, the wise one, with wisdom beyond his years even though I was the youngest, the scrawniest, the thinnest." I chuckle, the fools. "Then we have Fraye, she was the brawl, never met a better fighter since. She taught me everything I know, she was the oldest. Then we had Dywaîn, he was the family man, well.... Family boy. He kept the group together, solved any fights that broke out, made sure we had somebody to talk to." I stop talking and smile, a tear pricks in my eye as I remember eating for free in the tavern not far from the mines. The kind man who could make the best stew a hungry growing boy could dream of, and he'd give us one meal a day for free. He used to say, just to piss off the drunkards, but now that I think about it he might've felt a sting of guilt somewhere, that he couldn't do more for us.
"You said there were four Xad." Cyaren says in his high voice, as if he feels betrayed.
"I thought you were the one who was supposed to know how to count."
I chortle, "Yeah yeah, then we have Leapy, his name was something else but we found him after he had broken his leg. We tried our best but he ended up with a limp, but he did run with us, he did everything we did, but the rhythm in which he ran was strange, so we called him Leapy. It stuck, he was the funny one, the one that has no real function but might really be the heart of the group."
"What happened to them?" The boy asks.
My face smiles but my whole body freezes as it looks for something that is technically not a lie. But I want to lie, to myself and to him, I need to give him hope. I cannot pretend it was beautiful when I knew it ended worse than a Shakespearian tragedy. But did it really end worse? You'll never have confirmation.
"I don't see them anymore. We grew up. It happens Cyaren, we grow up." I answer, assuring myself slowly.
"Will we grow up Xad?" His eyes look too innocent, they remind me of everything I don't want to be reminded of. They remind me of a stinging pain that I've tried to soothe for my whole life.
"Of course we won't" Thrjel says, he grabs my hand and looks at me. I can read the question in his eyes. I nod, I am okay. I pet Flip and he starts to run through the room.
"We need to make sure nobody sees him." I say with a sigh. "We don't know what the consequences might be."
Thrjel nods knowingly.
"I'm sure you were interesting as a kid." Cyaren says, still not willing to let this topic go.
I take a deep breath, I remember the sting of guilt that constantly poked into the empty space just underneath the sternum, the nightmares that caused the blue cast of exhaustion on my face. "I had my problems, but I made it work. We were the cool kids, might have been just simple petty thieves, we were vandals, all in good fun before we joined the re....." I stop, I cannot say the word here. I am not even certain if anybody knows of my involvement with it. "This school." I correct.
The door squeaks open and I instinctively snatch Flip and hide him under a blanket.

"Ah here you are." Kuon says with his raspy voice, I always wonder if he's perpetually sick or if it's simply his voice. He sits down next to Cyaren, "Oh wow, it really looks like them!" He says as he looks at the paper in his hands.
"They weren't supposed to know yet!" He exclaims as he crosses his arms.
Kuon chuckles "My bad," He looks at me and starts to speak in fianlynds, I sometimes struggle to understand his dialect but most of it is easy to recognise despite his accent. "I overheard some teachers talking about the mines, that there's a wave of unrest now that the wages have been cut down even more. If you graduate out you can use that momentum to your benefit Xad."
My eyes widen "Kuon, even in our language you cannot speak like that. You don't know who is able to hear it, you need to be more careful."
"Says the one who is friends with a half Awnlund." He scoffs.
"I can speak Fianlynds...." Thrjel responds curtly.
"Hey mate, I have nothing against you but you need to agree that trusting you isn't the most intelligent thing Xad has done till now."
"He saved my life, so unless you can give a speech like I can you must thank Thrjel, not antagonise him."
Kuon nods slowly "I'm sorry," He says, switching back to the language we are supposed to speak. "I can sometimes be rather judgemental."
"We already know that Kuon." Thrjel says with a smile, and he's right. Kuon has a fight inside of him, a burning desire to better, a hunger for justice, and he looks down on anyone who doesn't. But it gets him in trouble, he can hardly survive a week without getting a new bruise. I hate him for it, and I love him for it, he's what I have been all my life without the scratch on his soul. This boy will either succeed in doing something that will change the world, or he will burn up even sooner than I will.
"But I am used to judgemental people" He says as he wraps his arm around me and hands Kuon a packet of cigarettes..
I shake my head "I hate you so much you idiot....."
"Come on Cyaren, you should show them." Kuon says.
He sigh and turns the paper around, the drawing is virtually perfect, I frown when I study the eyes. On the drawing Thrjel and I are looking at each other, my smirk lopsided and shy, his smile genuine and unafraid, but the spark the young boy captures shines in both of our eyes. Thrjel isn't the only beautiful person on the drawing, when I look at this I might not hate myself after all. I look up at the boy and innocence stares back and I understand why I do not hate myself in this drawing. The boy cannot see the darkness, he is too young, too smart, too innocent to fathom that kindness can be faked. Kindness is almost always a means to an end, or an absolvent of guilt. The boy cannot recognise guilt, because he has not done anything to provoke it.
"It's beautiful." Thrjel says.
"It's for you Xad." The boy whispers. I smile and accept the gift.
"Thank you dear." I ruffle his hair again and stand up, tucking the drawing underneath my pillow. My hand feels numb as I feel the fabric of the pillow "Classes are starting in a few minutes, we should get going." I say, avoiding all eye contact.

The sun has given up on shining again, the beauty of the night has started. I look out of Thrjel's window while he packs the backpack which is surprisingly light now that we don't have to carry materials.
"You're awfully quiet." Thrjel says. I don't answer, I just keep on staring at nothing in particular. He puts his hand on my shoulder "Jesus you're thin Xad!"
"No mopstick today?" I ask with a smile. He sits down next to me and stares at the nothingness that I have come up with.
"Are you hungry Xad?" He asks and I wonder if he means if I could eat now or if I am perpetually overwhelmed by the deprivation of food. And even if I knew which one he would mean I do not know what my answer would be.
"We should get going." I say as I pick up the backpack which proves to be heavier than I anticipated and thrjel immediately steals the bag and we sneak out of this prison that should be giving us knowledge but is only giving us fear, the oxygen in the woods is less suffocating than that of the school. I begin to forget to keep my pace regular so that Thrjel can keep up, I don't like walking slowly, it worries me. The possibility of being followed worries me like a deer in hunting season.

"Xad." Thrjel says, his voice exhausted and panting, but his tone worried, serious, the tone you wish you could ignore.
"Hmmm" I respond while managing my pace.
"Why do you block out your childhood?" He asks.
I stop in my tracks and he bumps into me. My shoulders briefly relax in an arrogant stance of superiority. I turn around and smile "If a childhood is merry everyone leaves it behind, if it is not they're stuck with it. why must I carry it with me?" I turn around and start walking again.
"That's not it xad." He grabs my hand and forces me to turn around. "You run from it.... You somehow solve everything in your way. You come to terms with all parts of being yourself but you refuse to touch that....."
I take a step to him, our noses almost touch as I lift my eyebrows and ask bitterly: "What do you want me to do? What is it that will satisfy your sanctimonious self?"
He leans in closer and blinks very slowly as he shakes his head "Honestly Xad... I don't know. But I'm worried about you. As soon as someone mentions it you're miserable. And you are constantly angry, and I get it. But maybe I want you to deal with the cause of this instead of focusing on the problems of the world that you will not be able to solve as of now. I want you to do what you do best, and to self-actualise or whatever it is what you do. I want you to love all of yourself, instead of cutting a piece of it away." He grabs my hands and I look down. My tongue struggles to find the words I might need to tell him what I have done.
"But you don't know what I have done Thrjel.... I can't..."
"You don't have to tell me, just think about it for now. And think if it might actually help you." He wipes the lone tear from my cheek and I wonder how he spotted it. "Well, we should get a go on, otherwise we'll barely have any spare time." He says as he passes me, but he doesn't let go of my hand.
"I promised my mum never to throw a punch, never to touch a gun....." I say as I look up at him and stop in my track. "three weeks after she was gone I broke that promise...."
"I thought you didn't shoot."
I shake my head "Not with rifles, you cannot hide them Thrjel. My mum wouldn't like it, she didn't want me to be violent. But she didn't want to be dead either." I chuckle and shake my head again, putting on the armour again. We arrive at the cabin and I try to find some words to satisfy what he is asking of me.
"How did she die...." He asks.
I open the door and turn on the single lightbulb in the cabin. I sit down on one of the chairs of birchwood, the one I'm sitting on is slender, one of its legs is shorter than the others, it makes a cheerful rhythm when I sit down on it.
"How does anyone die? Their body stops working..... All I know is that my childhood ended with violence, followed by silence, ending with my sister crying and I never had the chance to myself. I was left without the knowledge of how to go on. If that's childhood go ahead and solve it for me.... But I prefer to forget something that can hardly be real."
Thjrel sits down on his chair and takes out a knitwork out of his bag. I chuckle and imagine Sostrate's glasses on him.
"I'll stop bugging you about it Xad." He says as he looks at me with his beautifully tilted head so you can see the tense muscles pulling on his shoulder,
I shrug "As long as you don't say that you'll pray for me you're allowed to talk about anything. I just can't guarantee I won't be mad." I say while I get the gun out so I can study the mechanisms further. I turn on the work lamp I made and put the gun on the desk.

"Do you like the desk?" Thrjel asks me.
"No it's very inconvenient, that's why I am using it you dimwit." I say and I peer at him through the corner of my eyes, he is staring at me, his head resting on his hand, his hair curly because of the weather. "I like your curls better Thrjel."
He looks up, as if he wasn't aware I was looking at him too. I put on my goggles and weld something together. I hear him getting up. "If you want to protect your eyes you should stay there love." I say with a smirk.
"I had a strange idea.... You know sailors and fishermen."
I nod, "I grew up here. Do you expect me to close my eyes so I don't know anything you dimwit?"
He chuckles "You know that ink they have?"
I take off my goggles and turn to him. "You mean tattoo's?" I ask, my eyebrow floating above my head because of his cluelessness.
"Do you reckon we could do our own? Then you can have something they can't take from you."
I tilt my head "I'll get a foxglove and you'll get a what? A cookie."
He hits me "You're so mean!"
I squeeze in hand and kick him "Don't I know it?"

He draws the flower on my left arm. I am staring at the ceiling and possibly thinking too much.
"Try to make it at least a little beautiful, I've been mutilated enough already." I say, he laughs.
"I will try to be delicate, but it's hard if your arms are twigs!"
"Well, I am willing to bet I have a higher pain tolerance than you do you fragile flower!"
"What an unfair assumption! Because you had a rough childhood?"
I look at him and wonder when he will realise his own idiocy. He looks up from my arm and sees my expression.
"Oh..... your chronic pain... You have a point." He grabs a bottle of ink and a needle. I stare back at the ceiling as the quiet pinpoints penetrate my skin. The ceiling is as empty as I trick my head into being even though it's screaming anything I don't want to hear.
"Thrjel, do you actually like me?" I hear my voice echoing while a candle he lit dances in the darkness. I a sharp pain through my arm, the first one that actually hurts.
"What?" He stands up so he can see my face, his own is creased into confusion and something I cannot really distinguish.
I shrug and press my lips onto another, interlocking my own hands and fidgeting in every way I can. "Yeah.... You know. Do you actually like me?"
"Why would you even ask that Xad, of course I do. You should know that darling." He sits down next to me on the desk and I sit up a bit.
"See....you know...I....I don't get it. There is this hideous part inside me that will eventually ruin everything. I can't imagine you can't see it. Everyone can see it, I never tried to hide it Thjrel, and if I did you have the right to know. You know I'm rude, a know-it-all, arrogant, repulsive and downright narcissistic."
He extends his hand but I avoid them. He chuckles and tries to find my gaze "A narcissist wouldn't be aware of that Xad."
I chuckle "You can never be serious can you? I can't imagine you don't mind when you see others make fun of you because of me, or when you are with us in our dilapidated dorm, when I curse you out again, because I'm not a good person. Do you never wish you had just given up on me and let me jump? Let me rot.... It would've been better for you." I say as I take a deep breath.
He puts his hand on my check and after looking in my eyes he cusps my face with both hands "No xad.... You made my life better. I will never regret that."
I feel my lip tremble while I try to keep my eyebrows from cramping up. My eyes feel sore as I fight of the tears. But I can't, my body folds and my shoulders fall over, making me as small as possible. The sobs hurt my ribs and my hands cover my face.
"Xad, it's alright." He says as he embraces me and holds onto my head as if he can protect me from anything in the world.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"What are you sorry for darling?" he asks, looking into my tear ridden eyes.
I try to catch my breath, and subsequently find the words.... But it's easier said than done.
"You make my life better too Thrjel. I feel so guilty all the time, sometimes I want to be alone and if I am there's this loneliness I can't stand. I need you, but I wish I could be normal. I can't help that my mind perceives the world this way, This ugly way, this soul crushing feeling, numbing out everything that is good, colouring the world around me grey, only perpetuating anger." I shake my head, my tears are drying up, I cannot even cry for myself. "And it's true, I find moments of solitude and happiness, but I fall back into this hole and all those feelings are for nought. I truly don't know how to explain it.... But it almost feels like there's constantly a bed of cotton on my feelings. How can I legitimately feel that one day I have never been happier when I look at you and the next morning I wish I had never existed to begin with. I'm constantly lying, and the worst is that I believe it. And I trick myself into thinking I am doing well, and theoretically I am doing well, but that pit in your stomach tells you something else. I feel so guilty about this Thrjel, you give me everything, and I cannot even afford to be grateful. I constantly feel like I need to make things up to people. Apologise for being here. Mend relationships, apologise for leaving them. And I wonder this: am I in love with my suffering? Am I the cause that I cannot pull myself out of this? You know the worst about it?
"Tell me." He says with his beautiful face radiating the kindness I cannot find.
"I want to get worse, I know worse, it makes more sense, I will have a reason to feel like that. Better is just confusing, and better means the constant anxiety of it getting worse again.... " I sigh "Maybe I deserve to feel like this maybe it's my own fault and I should've tried harder....."
"It's not your fault Xad." He says, grabbing my face again and putting his forehead against mine. I grab his wrist and find his eyes.
"Then tell me Thrjel... what the hell is wrong with me?"
I can see tears gleaming in his eyes as he grabs my hands. I recognise that face, what kind of face is that? I frown, my mind is racing through every expression I know. I look away and my face cramps up into sadness when it finds its answer. "and now you're pitying me...."
He shakes his head and directs my face at him, "No Xad, that's not it. I know you would hate that. But I don't know how to help you xad."
"You do enough thrjel, it's not up to you to fix me." I say as I hug him tightly.
"Doesn't mean I'll stop wishing I could." He whispers. I wipe my tears on his blouse, I shake my head. He sighs and retreats. "You're okay again?" I wipe my tears and smile.
"Always."

The small tattoos on our arms reveal their black lines in the dim light. Thrjel looks at the flower on his arm.
"You were right, you have a better pain tolerance."
I chuckle "I could have told you, you dimwit."
"You did tell me, or did you forget already? I thought I am the dimwit."
I shrugs "Well, I guess you're more of a cookie than a dimwit."
"You think I am a tough cookie? I'm flattered."
I look at him and shake my head "I meant that you are what you eat dimwit, and I take it back." He shakes his head. I grab the flask from his hand and take a sip. "Do you prefer lying to spare someone's feelings or telling the truth and being rude." I ask as the burning runs through my throat.
He frowns "I think it depends on the person. I think truth is something important, but fragility is too."
"Do you only tell me what I want to hear Thrjel?"
"Are you paranoid Xad?"
I laugh, he always knows how to win my heart, my soul again. He stands up and walks around a bit, I lean against the wall and look at him as he starts to hum something.
"Are you that bored?" I ask, lighting a cigarette.
"No there are fire ants in my shoes..... Is that the answer you were looking for?"
"Maybe.... Nah, I don't want the 'clubhouse' to get infested."
"Oh come on Xad, you're such a bum. We should do something fun, you're not tired are you?" He asks, challenging me.
"Of course not, I just think anything would be more fun than what the hell you think you're doing."
He looks at me and tilts his head "What do you propose." I shrug, "You can say anything Xad, you can do what you've been wanting to do all this time."
"Well, I just want to cry all the time... but I don't suppose that would be considered fun."
He smiles and grabs my hands "Let's dance Xad!"
"We don't have music!" I complain.
"And? we do have imagination!" He says with his hands wrapped tightly around mine. He drags me to the middle of the cabin and start dancing. His arms are limp and remind me of meercats while his knees point any direction but forwards. I can't help but laugh.
"What? As if you can do it better!"
"You bet I can!" I respond, I look at with a smirk and start dancing. The steps I know from when we would sneak into dance halls (They used to have the best beer and sometimes even free food.) My body swings from side to side elegantly in the rhythm of the imaginary music. He looks at me with a spark in his eyes and slowly replicates my moves.
"You dance like an awnlund darling." I jokes as I grab his hand and we go on together.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You fear the feeling, you don't know you can just hand your body over to it." I say.
"As long as you promise to catch me I'll be willing to do that you mopstick."
"Promised."

The imaginary music gets louder in our heads. The light gets brighter, the air gets more crisp, the world is more alive, I am more alive. I focus on our feet as they play with the wood underneath them, as they play with what they are, as they play with the swiftness and tempo of simply taking a step. I want to compliment Thrjel on his fast way of learning when he trips over his own feet, I immediately remember my promise and try to catch him but instead of actually helping it just ends with both of us on the floor. There is a brief silence before I start laughing. I don't recognise my own laugh, it sounds better than it's supposed to be, it sounds real. It makes me happy, am I happy. He starts laughing too. The bright sound betrays the darkness the night is trying to drench the world in. His laughs are the stars in a night that forgot hope, I try to find his hand and when I finally find it I hold it tightly. I stare at the plain ceiling of this house we made ourselves, a place to be home, only if it is only for a few second, in the darkest time of the night. It is a home, it is ours, it's beautiful, it's real. I have never been so happy with something so unimportant, but maybe that makes it important.
"It was a good idea to dance thrjel."
"See, even a dimwit can be bright, we don't have to move to a star for that." He says. I'm surprised he recalls that conversation so clearly. Although I can recall it too, so that might be unfair.
"Maybe you're not a dimwit, just a sugar cookie." I say with a smirk.
"You are what you eat right?"

With that logic we should've called Flip scraps instead. I put my breakfast in his bowl, I can hardly eat anything when it's this early, not to mention in the weekend. I don't feel the need for a meal except a dinner, it's enough for me, besides I don't think I have a knowledge of real hunger, I never complained, not even when the other kids did. Maybe because I was indifferent to the reality of staying alive. I pet the beautiful felt of the kitten, he's growing beautifully. It feels to nurture something, to finally do something right, finally feel like you're helping someone without the immense pressure that comes with a human being.
The other boys are still sleeping, apart from the ones that have cleaning duty. A Saturday is a day of rest, a day where the insubordinates often stay in their dorms, breathe freely, sleep for most of the day and give up for just a day. But I have other plans, I need to work on both my projects, I plan for the mask to have at least two filters. This project feels close to my heart, I remember the first time my father came back with a mask like that. I wasn't used to the fact that my dad wasn't home all day, his carpentry shop was right next to our house, and it was incredibly successful. But I remember putting on the respirator and my dad was so mad, I didn't understand back then, he was only frightened for me.
I smile and pet the kitten again, well, I was healthy as a horse, maybe it somehow damaged my brain which is why I understand being happy anymore. I kiss flip on his head and chuckle, how strangely much you can love an animal. It's adorable.