Ding dong.
The door opened and it was Vincent. He looked so bad. You could see on his eyes that he hardly caught any sleep.
He fell into my arms and we hugged. For a long time. Just me and him.
I could feel that he was crying.
" I've missed you so much ", he sobbed, " I'm so sorry that I don't always tell you everything, I should tell you when I skip school, I should tell you more, I need you, Clara, I n - " I interrupted him, he was clearly stressed out, " it's okay, Vincent, you don't have to apologize " I whispered, getting my hand through his hair.
" Please come in " he let go, wiped away his tears and tried to smile. I gave him a little smile in return.
We got inside.
" Since when do you wear so much black? " he asked.
" Since my life keeps going down "
" Clara, you'll get out of it, everything's gonna be alright " he took my hand and sqeeuzed it.
" Your situation is much harder, Vince, if I can help you with anything, just tell me "
" Thanks, princess, I appreciate it " he kept holding my hand.
Me and Vincent talked. We talked and we talked and we talked. We talked about Ally and what I could do to make it right. He told me I should go back later and explain everything. We talked about my teammates who acted different to me than usual. He told me to talk to them next time I'll get there. We talked about my fighting. He told me he would help me to keep it under control. We talked about my drinking and smoking. He told me he did the same to forget about what happens. We talked about Instagram. He told me to quit.
But we also talked about his parents. About his mum that keeps drinking too much. I told him to talk to her. And to tell her his opinion. About his dad that wants to kidnap them all the time. Vincent should talk to him too. We talked about his brother. He told me he has become even more depressed. He had tried to jump in front of a bus. Tried to cut his wrists as deep as possible to bleed to death. Vincent had to handle it all, because his mum was never at home.
I was glad that I could tell everything to him. And he felt the same.
When his brother woke up he told me it was better for me to go back home and that's what I did. Once at home I ran upstairs, put on my Praet shirt, ran back downstairs and started watching the match of that weekend.
Me and my dad watched together. My mum was just Ipadding.
What the fuck.
That was not the RSCA that I knew. Much worse! They played amazingly bad again. I couldn't watch without the feeling of tears welling up into my eyes. I lived for this team. And then they did this to me? If we keep playing like that we will lose our chance to become the champion.
With a bad feeling I went to my bed, after the game. I changed from the Dennis shirt into the Hervé shirt. Dennis had dissapointed me once again...
Once in my bed, I took my phone.
I took a deep breath and decided to open Instagram once again and then I would delete all of my accounts.
