Among them

Chapter One

Nora POV.

Life, what is that even? Aren't we all just random molecules on a rock floating through endless spaces? Do we have an impact in any way, can we even achieve anything? And if so, could it be good? Are human beings able to do anything purely good? I don't even want to start with the amount of animals that had to be killed for me, human beings whose drink water I wasted while showering. I am a killer, right?

Can we even act without rage, without hate, you could be tend to say with love. But again, what is love? A chemical connection between two human beings, stimulating the needs to produce another round of human beings, ready to destroy the world? You may find this too negative, too extreme, but when the fundament all our lives build up on is love, why don't we have a clear definition then?

And why can hate overpower that love so easily? How can our fundament be so weak?

Smash. The plain black pencil lands on the ground, before leaving the wall with yet another dent. This is the definition of stupid, and to be honest, I can't even recall why I picked up the pencil in the first place.

Writing down your thoughts could soothe your issues, they said. The fuck it can. Taking the paper into my hands, my fingers almost automatically squeeze the paper, until it fits into my fists. Throwing the paper into the trash, that feels superb. Not writing therapeutical nonsense.

The telephone gets my attention by its ridiculous ringing, forcing me to leave my chaotic desk.

" Hey, Nora, what's up?"

My dad. A smile appears on my lips, a tiny one, but nevertheless a smile. He is one of the few people I trust, or to be honest, the only one. May be caused by the fact he is the only one I am talking to.

"Uhm, nothing really. I'm just hanging out and stuff.", I lie. In all these years, I haven't been able to open up once. I wouldn't even trust my dad enough to tell him. Damn, I don't even trust myself enough for that. And somehow, I managed to live with this decision, with keeping my problems to myself. Okay, whether you could define this as living is questionable, it is rather existing, but again, that is better than nothing, right? And I'd proudly announce I am not the only one nowadays that quit living, I'd be under the average maybe, but again, not alone in that aspect.

„What about school?"

Yeah, what about school. It is god damn weekend, throughout these two days this word mustn't be used, that is an all known legacy.

„Oh no, dad, don't start with that shit. I've already been there for the whole damn week, so I am done with that. Absolutely ."

Done with it in every possible way. Even ponderring about it could cause me nightmares. I should not let my trail of thoughts escape down there.

"You could at least do your homework, otherwise your grades won't thank you for that."

Oh, not that again. Since one teacher of mine called my dad because of my rather not fulfilled homework, my dad is all eager for me doing my homework. It is not that I am bad at school, I just don't see the need to spend my time with homework when I already understood the task. On the other side of the plate, when I don't understand something, I rather would not want to understand it at all. Also, all of my teacher are bullshit, hence it is not like it's fun to learn with them. Not to start with the pupils..

„Mmmh, let me think, I don't need their thank you or approval at all. Anything of a matter you wanted to talk about?", I question, just wanting to escape the subject school.

"Since when is it illegal to talk to one's own daughter. And what is with you anyways, you seem to be in quite a bad mood today." His disapproval is clear in his voice, not judging, but rather worried and desperate? I don't know. Hopefully he won't dig deeper.