Moonsland (EN)

James (I)

                                                                              (October 2nd and 3rd)

  Every now and then, I feel an emptiness inside me, as if I'm missing something. I try to figure out what it is, but I can't think ofanything. 
  I get out of bed and sit cross-legged on the office chair, so as not to let my feet get cold, and search the computer for "Things every teenager needs". Among many websites that don't say what I want, I find one that does:

The three things every teenager needs:
1st Socializing with your friends;
2nd Dating;
3rd Discovering new places.
(If you do these three things, you're a happy teenager!)

  I'd like to say I do at least one of these, but I'd be lying. Maybe it's one of these things that I need. I could even promise to try to change the fact that I'm antisocial and feel good alone or with my best and only friend, but I'd be lying, and I'd lose credibility if I lied twice in a row. Since I know I can't change who I am, I'm going to leave everything as it is and hope that fate will give me a chance to change.

  I write in my notebook "Being a normal teenager!" on a page that hasn't yet been written, so that if I change in any way or think of a way to do it, I can write it down.

  I got up from my chair, switched off the lamp, which was already too hot, and went to bed at twenty-three o'clock today. Tomorrow begins another week of classes, the fourth week of the twelfth grade. Time seems to be passing more quickly this year. I don't know if it's because this year is easier than the eleventh, or if it's because I'm older and my perception of time has changed.

                                                                            Day 1 of the change

  It's fifteen minutes to seven when the alarm goes off. I wake up in a bad mood and the only thing I want to do is get under the covers again. But I have to go to school. Today the change begins, at least I hope so. I get up, put on my slippers and turn on the air conditioning at twenty degrees as usual. I go to the bathroom, look in the mirror and fiddle with my hair as if it's going to stand up straight. Then I head to the kitchen, where I wash my hands with the lovely lemon-scented dishwashing detergent and prepare my breakfast. Unlike most people, I only eat a bowl of warmed milk and cereal on school mornings. I sit down on the stool against the island and eat, while looking at social media and the news. When I've finished, I raise the shutter with a remote control and stare outside for a few minutes. This building is so tall that people look like ants from up here.
  I soon begin to miss having someone by my side to see this landscape with me. So, before this thought takes hold of me, I go to my room, which is now warmer. I turn off the air conditioning and dress as I normally do. As I don't think my style of dress looks bad on me, I have no plans to change it now. I put on black jeans and a turtleneck and a black leather jacket on top. That's how I always dress: all in black or dark tones.
  I look in the big mirror I have against the wall, slowly enough to see if I'm okay and quickly enough not to think I'm horrible. I leave my room, go into my parents' and say goodbye to them, who are barely awake, and leave.
  When I get out of the elevator, I feel a bit dizzy. I moved into this apartment a few months ago, but I still haven't got used to taking the elevator. It's one of the many strange things about me... Before I leave, I say goodbye to the doorman, a short, chubby man who has been working here for a few years. I became friends with him shortly after I moved here. You never know when you'll need to ask for a favor.

  When I get to school, my hands freeze, even though I've only walked ten minutes. Here in Moonsland it gets very cold in the fall, and in the winter it even snows from time to time.
  I cross the parking lot, which is huge, and see a few groups of students sitting on the hoods of cars and on the ground, some in uniform, others not. I enter the building and, as usual, I can't remember which way the classroom is. On the walls there are screens that, by entering the student's code, show the timetable, the room number and even show the way to the room in a 3D model. That was the novelty of this year's "Ideas for Innovation". Last year there were signs showing room numbers and arrows indicating their location, which was a bit old-fashioned in my opinion.
  Today my room is P09 (sometimes the rooms change, because as the management said, "We want to avoid monotony"). I get in the elevator and go to the second floor. I get to the room and there's no one there. I put my backpack down and sit at the last table, against the window. I look at the clock and there are still twenty minutes to go. On a normal day, I'd arrive later so that I could socialize as little as possible, but as it's moving day, I leave the room and go to the common room on the first floor, where my class probably is. The room is huge (like everything else in this school), one of the reasons why almost half the school comes here when they don't have lessons.
  I find them relatively easily, as they're at a table near the door. When I approach them, almost all of them look at me with admiration for being there instead of being late.
- Good morning," I say quickly, to stop them looking at me.
- Hello," replied a girl I didn't know, with a smile. The others went back to talking to each other as if nothing was wrong. Honestly, I don't complain. I'd rather do that than become the center of attention.
  Five minutes later I had to leave because I didn't feel well. My heart felt tight and I was very uncomfortable. Maybe I lost a bit of the energy for change in that tiny moment in the lounge, but I still have the intention in my head.