It was a Sunday afternoon, 14:56. The drizzle of the rain from my bedroom window seemed to sum up life.

“Why’d she go?”

I heard myself mumble. It had not occurred to me that my body had had its own agenda, probably food. I wanted to stay but the voice of my feet overpowered my mind. Even my feet didn’t want to listen. The journey to the door only takes 4 steps but this time it took 8 as my feet were in two places as to whether or not  to listen to me. It’s not a great feeling, you know, being in two places or ‘on the fence’ as you British say. I never understood it, you guys with your ‘give or take’ tenses or your ‘bees knees’ compliments. It fascinates me. We Germans however are simple and straight to the point, none of these idioms that cover a conversation with mystery and confusion. It’s why I hate society. Society in England that is. But what say would I have? I’m just a 14-year-old, short, long black-haired, freckled, German boy (east to be specific, in a town called Combus).

That same Sunday soon became an evening I’ll never forget. The rain became rain no more. It emerged out as this violent backlash of the events that I realise now had become more frequent. My mother’s house was taking a beating, windows trembling, tiles falling, I could feel it all (and hear it too, those tiles must have feared falling the length of the Grand Canyon in their eyes, making a huge racket trying cling on to anything to survive the fall, just accept faith). It wasn’t long ago that my mother and I had brought this house; old. tacky, lean, the most simply form of its description. It’s abandoned ‘to put it blunt’, not another person my age within a kilometre but I fear it still. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t feel the floor moving my bed to the window, toying with me, maybe I should just accept faith.

It was now a Monday morning, 07:01. The drizzle of rain that turned into a sleet of this sludgy snow that seemed to timber the night. It had come to an abrupt stop and I had just woke up in time to see it. This was very unusual behaviour, weather-wise, it was only beginning to get into November but the clouds gathered as if it was the middle of winter. But today was a big day, I mean every day is big but this day was bigger in comparison to a day like yesterday, in which all I did was lie down in my bed thinking and get up every once in while to get some of my mom’s, home-made Torten cake (that was a great cake though).

I had begun getting out of bed (**which wasn’t a great ordeal, which reminds me of another reason I hate this society and in particular my school; its laziness, and any time I have seen anyone around school put in effort it’s being put into the wrong things; football, ‘banter’, girls, etc. They hate society like I do but they hate it for the wrong reasons, I hate purely on that fact alone but yet again, I am fake as well. Living in the outskirts of society, day after day full of the same old dull and thoughtless people and situations, I’ve been thinking too much I guess. Ironic) and after a long exaggerated thought process, I realised that today was my birthday however this didn’t make the day any better, I could use it as a sympathy vote for today when Wallace beats me up again. “Oi, Thomas give me your lunch money” was the typical conversation that Wallace and I had. But Wallace was different to your usually bully. Wallace was a transferred student from some posh boarding school. Seemed like a troubled kid from the start, I thought that me and him would get along but he deals with his ‘problems’ differently to me, to say the least. Also, we were different in many ways a few being his physicality: with his 190 cm height and wingspan and a 90 kg body that could run 20 mph, he was far superior to me. He was the type of person that you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of, I guess I made that mistake far too early to understand it. But hopefully today will be different. Hopefully he’ll show a little gratitude and respect just enough that I can have my chance, who I’m kidding? Today isn’t gonna be a good day.