The day was on a Tuesday, no Friday. Yes, Friday the 27 of July. My eyes narrowed, and a shot of an icy cold paralyzed my body. Why? I asked myself out loud, with a sarcastic tone, that could be easily recognized. What had I done now, who had caught me? Too late now I suppose, to fix whatever I destroyed. I didn’t care anyways, my reputation had been ruined ever since my strict, proper, parents disowned me. They never cared anyways, all they did was suffocate me with restrictions that should “help” me. If they wanted to help me, I should have been free. Which is exactly what am now, what I fought for so long for, no matter what the cost.

I stood in a stark room of a blazing white, with one chair, and a shiny white tile that I knew would hold anything but warmth. I dragged my leather boots against the floor, creating a deafening screech, slightly impairing my hearing. My eyes were tired, and stung with every blink. I looked down at my hands, which were covered in dirt and blood. Oh no, I thought. Well that can’t be good. I usually don’t remember what bad things I do, which I should probably go get that checked. But… I always thought if I had done something really wrong I would remember.

Something told me I wasn’t going to get out of the one. Something in me was afraid. Afraid? Was that really what I was? All I have been through, and I was scared? Of what? What could this bleak room do to me. Well not exactly the room, but the people behind it. Authority was not my worry, it was disappointment. Disappointing the people who actually cared. After my parents, being so disappointed that they did not want me anymore, I decided to have no one care about me, not even myself.

The people behind that room did not know me, or care about me, so I had nothing to fear.