El chico de los CDs [Larry Stylinson] (English)

The boy of the CDs

-Harry, sweetie, you need to wake up. It's late.

A feminine voice was heard cueing into the dark room. Then she opened the curtains as well as the windows. The boy shifted in his bed querulous, pulling the blanket up.

-Harry, please.

The boy ignored his mother. His mum sighed, came near to him and kissed him forehead softly over the blankets.

It was mid nineties. The England streets were covered by extensive mist that autumn.

Anne was at the kitchen cooking the breakfast for her son. Harry was a special boy. He had been diagnosed since he was a child with a pervasive developmental disorder. It is a kind of disorder that affects the ability of socializing properly with other people. Either difficulting the verbal development with the others or lacking the ability of the easy interaction with people. Everything in his head was okay. He didn't have any kind of cognitive problem. He wasn't a genius nor a stupid. He had the same brain as a normal boy. The closest person to him, his mother, was whom he talked the more. Any kind of human interaction, witch wasn't with her mother, made him nervous. He had suffered a panic attack in the school when he was a child, the teachers and his mates were terrified and didn't know how to hold him back. It wasn't until his mother arrived that she finally could calm Harry. Since that day, his parents decided that he would be home-schooled by a trustworthy person, without exposing Harry around many people who could stifle him. Specialists weren't able to say if Harry would stop being like that. Although Anne didn't lost hope.

She heard the steps of the boy going down the stairs and she overturned hiding something behind her back. The sixteen-year-old boy walked into the kitchen slowly, wearing his striped pajamas, with his messy curls falling over his face and rubbing one of his eyes with his fist.

-Hi dear, how did you sleep?-asked with a sweet tone while serving the meal.

The guy only shrugged his shoulders, without being rude, and took seat.

-Eat before it gets cold.

It was Thursday. Harry had particular classes at his living room from Mondays to Thursdays with a very pleasant woman called Marianne. She was Harry's teacher since years ago, she was used to his behaviour and he could trust her. On Fridays he had to meet with his psychologist. He spend more time with Marianne than with his psychologist. They didn't formed a tie, so their conversations were more reduced. Saturdays were his free days. His mother didn't demand absolutely anything on Saturdays. He could sleep until he get tired of it and he could waste his time with whatever he wanted. Sundays were the days that Harry hated the most. His family met every Sunday in his grandparents' house to have a lunch. His aunts, uncles and cousins were there too and he had to stand this human contact for a few endless hours.