𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

𝟐𝟒 | 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

On our way to school, we made a quick stop at my house. I've unlocked the door with the smallest hope of finding both my parents in the living room enjoyably drinking coffee, safe and sound. They would welcome me, saying it was all just an ugly way to punish their disobedient daughter. What a lie. An uncomfortable depression clenched my chest as I walked around the empty sofa and passed the deserted kitchen. Each new step was slower than the other until I had completely stopped in the middle of the stairs, having a hard time breathing. Whatever happens, I must not cry.

"Are you okay?" Otto asked worriedly. I gratefully gripped his hand, which he had already placed on my taut shoulders, like the sign of comfort and understanding.

"I'm trying to be," I admitted. I had to do what was necessary. And Otto was out of my plans. "There should be food in the fridge and some granola bars in the cupboard above the sink. Can you please pack them if we happen to starve today? I haven't eaten since morning; I'm probably going crazy. I'll go change my clothes." And pack my things.

"Sure, I'll do it, nooo problem," my friend said jovially, which made me feel even worse. Me leaving – it will disappoint him. I will disappoint him. If I do it, it will only prove what everyone already knew years ago. That I'm a shitty friend who doesn't deserve him.

Like a coward I was, I ran upstairs to the room before my heart could fall apart. I got dressed and didn't even bother to put away my dirty clothes, I just left them on the ground. Then I emptied books and notebooks from my backpack, shoving a new pair of clothes into it. What should I take on a mission from I don't even have to come back alive?

I peered into my father's study and started looking for weapons. Some should've been here, so where the hell are they? I impatiently flipped through all the drawers. Nothing to be found.

"Ria? What's taking you so long?" Otto shouted at me from downstairs.

"I'm coming," I said hurriedly. Shit.

My best friend was already in the kitchen, waiting for me, and walking around a pyramid he had created from packs of biscuits and cookies.

"Do you think it will be enough?" he thought aloud.

"Enough for a day or a whole week?" I asked on the verge of a burst of laughter.

"You tell me," he smiled conspiratorially. I pressed my lips with a mild panic clouding my brain. Does he know?

"What?" I asked, almost out of my breath.

"You said you're starving. If I'm super hungry, I could eat a whole bear. And this," he said, pointing at the food he prepared for us, "is way less than the bear you know?" I was relieved.

"Yes, Wilder, that will be enough," I agreed more relaxed.

"Can you put it in your backpack?" I swallowed dryly and frowned.