Not like a snake

      — Anton Petrov. There was obvious annoyance in her mother's voice. — If you don't explain what all this means right now... — the phrase was intentionally not finished, which made it sound even more creepy, evoked a feeling of some kind of extraordinary hopelessness. Of course, mom's sharp reaction can be understood, but I am no longer a small child, so there is nothing surprising in such things, as for me, there is no.       I understood that regardless of the answer, the result would be the same — it would not work out. And all my excuses can only inflame the situation, only increasing parental anger. I think the best option is to just keep quiet. That's what I did. A tense silence reigned in the kitchen, occasionally interrupted by the sounds of strong wind and the distant barking of dogs coming from the street. My throat was dry and my breathing was noticeably faster. The seconds felt like hours. "You're going to keep quiet, aren't you?" the mother sighed heavily. — I was hoping that you would come to your senses, graduate well from school... But in fact, at first I made friends with these hooligans, and now it's come to this. — each of Mom's words sounded louder than the previous one, it seemed like she was going to scream. — That's not how I raised you. — that's what happened. — I've got a lot of problems on my head... The husband is an idiot, the son is a pervert, spinning in the company of local gangsters. I couldn't stand it anymore. The words spoken by his own mother crossed all boundaries. — These "local bandits" have become more expensive to me than you and your father, by the way, and... — they did not let me finish. A rather strong slap in the face cut the sentence in half. — Go to your room, Petrov! If I hear something like that from you again, you don't have to come home anymore. Despite this threat, which, it seems, should be a good reason to shut up, I decided to continue. — These people whom you call hooligans and bandits have given me an understanding of what you have never given. — the words sounded harsh and confident, I don't understand how I still manage to control my speech. — They showed me what freedom is. And this... I pointed with my right finger at the love mark left by Katerina. — This is a sign that I have begun to find it. You say that "that's not how you raised me.".. And I don't want to live like that. I don't want to live the way you and my father see fit. I don't want to live like a rabbit in a cage, which you've been trying to make of me since I was born. — tears began to appear in my eyes, but I tried to hold on to the last. — Mom, understand... To instill in your own son that his friends are complete scumbags, to blame for any reason and not to let your own daughter go out even on the porch is not education - it's utter nonsense. All you can do is yell at each other... — I had to bow my head to hide my crying face thanks to my hair falling down. — I hate... — the last word was said in a whisper. After that, I stormed out of the kitchen and, stumbling, almost falling on the stairs, rushed to my room. — I-hate it! I shouted at the top of my voice. Tears flowed in streams, breathing was so short that oxygen, according to the sensations, did not enter the lungs at all, the aching pain squeezed the chest again, but with three times the force, and the heart began to sting insanely. It seemed as if he was simultaneously pierced by a thousand of the sharpest, and also red-hot needles. All attempts to calm down were in vain. In a fit of anger, I tore off all the drawings with my own hands, which were carefully attached to the wall with stationery buttons. As expected, many of my best works turned out to be torn, and subsequently crumpled. The desk drawer went straight into the wall with a bang. I can't imagine how it didn't fall apart into several component parts, but now pencils, notebooks and other small things that had fallen out of it were scattered all over the room. The chair suffered the same fate, but it turned out to be not so strong, because one of the legs fell off with a bang after the impact. I fell to my knees and started hitting the mattress with all my strength with my hands, which caused it to slip a little. As soon as I tried to catch my breath and do something, another wave, creating chaos in my mind, covered me with my head. Although no, there's not even a wave... Rather, a tsunami that leaves no chance to swim out, to get out of this state. My thoughts were confused, not allowing the full picture of the situation to appear in my head. At one point, something went wrong in my brain - I rushed to the ground floor at full speed, hurriedly jumping into my shoes and throwing on my jacket. Before anyone in the house had time to come to their senses, my trail was gone. I was running. He ran fast. He ran where his eyes, shrouded in a veil of tears, looked. He ran greedily gulping down the cold air, but even it was not enough to breathe, to get enough... He was falling. I fell a lot, almost every hundred meters. But he kept getting up... I decided that I would do this until my strength ran out. I don't care where I end up, I just want to feel better, which means away from this damn house... Bitch... Olya still heard everything. My screams and my mother's, the mayhem that I caused in the room, and so on. I wanted to apologize, but as a result, the poor sister again had to witness another cunt happening in this madhouse. What an idiot I am... it took about half an hour, it was starting to get dark outside. I didn't have the strength to run anymore, and the tears simply ran out. Walking slowly near the village shop, I heard someone call out to me. — Anton? — I recognize this pleasant ringing voice from a thousand... One word he said was enough to lift my mood a little, which had not been there until that moment. Strangely enough, I was not mistaken — Smirnova was standing next to me, holding a bag of groceries in her hands. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her crystal emerald eyes occasionally closed their fluttering eyelids in question. — What are you doing here? — the girl asked. — I'm walking. I muttered, trying not to betray my true state and intentions, which simply did not exist. But it still didn't work out to deceive Katerina. — And to be honest? — her ability to see through people can only be envied. Although, I suspect that "everything is not okay" is literally written on my face. — My mother noticed... I said in a low voice, then added, "My fault, I started unbuttoning my shirt at the wrong time." We had a big fight about it and now... Katya's face immediately changed — it instantly became more tense and restless, her eyebrows furrowed, and the carefree smile disappeared. — Did you run away from home? Are you a fool at all, Petrov? There was a note of excitement and sympathy in his voice. — Well... Almost. She told me not to go there anymore. I'll come as soon as he calms down. "You mean you're not coming home today?" Smirnova let out a long sigh, because the answer was obvious to her. — Only if in the morning...       — Oh, Anton, Anton... Let's go. Katerina beckoned to me with her free hand. — Where to? — How to where? Walk me out. — the girl grinned strangely and winked, making it clear with just a glance that she had already found a solution to my problem. There was nothing left for me to do but shrug my shoulders and, taking the package from my friend's hands like a gentleman, follow her. We walked for about a quarter of an hour. Again, we talked about literally everything that comes to mind. In Katka's company, time flew by unnoticed, and all the problems seemed to disappear, or, more realistically, they were simply forgotten. Her voice and appearance acted on me like a powerful drug — they were addictive. Once you try and you can't tear yourself away ...       The village has finally lost the rays of the sun, instead there are now rare lanterns illuminating the main roads and a bright, bright moon that replaced the main luminary. Most of the sounds subsided after dark — only occasionally dogs barked somewhere, sitting on a leash, or someone crunched clearing snow in the yard, even the blizzard stopped whistling. For this reason, Katya and I's voices echoed off the houses, filling the lifeless streets with laughter, emotional conversations and, sometimes, the quiet sounds of bodily contact. We had almost reached Katya's house when she stopped, taking the package from my hands. — So, wait for me here. — Katerina was probably trying to intrigue me. I asked uncomprehendingly, breaking all the mystery of the moment —Why? — I'll tell my mom that Polina invited me to spend the night, and I'll stay with you. I can't leave you alone, Antosha... — slowly approaching my face, Smirnova ran her tongue over her lips, giving a sign that they should be slightly opened, and then, as in the afternoon, we merged in a passionate kiss, wasting our oxygen reserves, awakening sincere feelings and, at the same time, foreshadowing an interesting night — I'll be there soon, don't get bored! A night spent alone with a loved one — what could be better? To be honest, I don't remember when I started considering Katya a loved one, but... She became one pretty quickly...