He had pale eyes which were always looking at the world with the same dead and uninterested sight. His white as chalk face resembled goat’s muzzle and early tiny beard on the edge of his chin was only emphasizing this parallel. John stared at his reflection for almost 5 minutes and then said to it:
– Remember, friend: you are better than all of them.
He wore his old shoes and untidy jacket. After that he took his rucksack and went from the flat. The school was just on the next road but the winter this year was harsh so this wasn’t a pleasant walk at any way. And the end of it wasn’t going to be better either, especially considering that he was late again. The math teacher was so angry because of it, that she stopped lesson for 15 minutes to tell him of. In conclusion she said that all she hasn’t time to explain in class because of it will go on homework. Needless to say that it didn’t help John to win love of his classmates. The rest of the school day passed pretty much like it started: one home task John failed, the other one he didn’t do also he wasn’t any active or good at class activities, resulting of him getting another set of “F” marks. In between the lessons he was once again bullied by several of his classmates, led by math teacher’s son, who always considered himself to be the school’s king no less.
All in all by the end of the school day John was fed up with all of this. As usual he went on the school’s roof, entrance to which was in fact opened for a few years so far, despite the obvious danger. John would go there mostly because he really liked the view over there. Also it must have been very slipperily over there, so there was a chance for John that he would just fall from the roof to his death. But when got there, it turned out, that it wasn’t slipperily there at all. But it didn’t mean that he couldn’t just take one extra step and everything would be over: no more hated school, no more unfair teachers, no more homework… nothing. All it takes… And so John started going to the edge of the roof.
Perhaps it was destiny (personally John had already grew up of such things) but suddenly he saw down bellow the math teacher and her son walking from the school and arguing. What happened next was unexpected even for John: there was a large icicle hanging from the roof; carefully John tore it and then threw it on the bully’s head. The icicle penetrated through his dumb head, probably even reaching to his spinal cord. Parts of bully’s brain (turned out that he really had one), blood and fragments of his bones were all around: on the snow, on his mother’s face and clothes and on himself. The terrified scream of math teacher was probably heard by half of the city.
Back to the entrance to the roof John was walking much more careful then he had come here: slipping down and falling to his death now would be the greatest failure imaginable. He managed to quickly went downstairs to the backdoor, remaining unnoticed, and left the school before police or ambulance arrived.
John was walking back home overwhelmed with emotions. Part of him still couldn’t believe what just happened. The other one was feeling happiness for the first time in a long period in general and for the first time ever in such dozes. There were also some other feelings that John had never felt before, and thus couldn’t neither name them nor describe. When he came home, he discovered that the door to the flat wasn’t locked. That hardly surprised John. He took of his shoes and coat and went to the kitchen. As he expected, the drunk pig of his mother was lying on the floor near the table, snoring. Only yesterday John, seeing this picture would just go quietly to his room, in order not to disturb his violent mother, and tried to study. But no longer. Not after what happened today. There was a knife on the table, just a few centimeters away from the edge. All it took is to push it a little, without leaving fingerprints. His mother opened her eyes, when the blade went through her throat. Looking at him she was waving her hands and several times spitted with blood, forcing John to jump back. Few seconds of suffering she went through before finally dying wasn’t nearly enough to compensate for everything John lived in his whole life.
John would gladly give in to the new storm of emotions, but first he had to think of his further actions. Some of his mother’s friends could come. They weren’t the smartest people around, but they could figure out what happened here. Running away wasn’t an option either: with no money in such cold and on his own he wouldn’t last long. The only way John saw fit right now was to call the police and tell them that he came home and found his mother already dead. The police would most likely to be suspicious as well, especially when they find out that not long before this the classmate who bullied him died because of an accident. If they prove his guilt, they will send him either to prison or to the lunatic asylum – the late one was more suitable to John as it would probably be easier to escape from, when the right time comes.
The officers, who were originally called to investigate death near his school, came to John’s home pretty fast. While one of them was looking on the body, the other one started asking questions:
– So, John… it’s John, correct?
– Yes, officer, – the boy replied with no emotions in his voice.
– You were the one to find your mother’s corpse… – the officer realized it too late that it may sound rude and corrected himself: – I mean your mother.
– Yes, officer, – the boy replied in the exactly same manner. After that he remained silent for a few seconds and then continued: – I came home after school, went to the kitchen to find something to eat and saw her – on the floor with a knife in her throat.
– It seems that she fell from the chair, hitting the table which caused knife to fell down, stabbing her accidently, – the police officer obviously was talking more to himself than to a boy who after that said:
– I’m only saying what I had seen.
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