“You need help?”

It's a cold December day and the little sun that remains of this cold month reflects between the shutters of my room. The alarm will go off in a few minutes, but the fight my parents are having in the living room forced me to wake up and listen to their discussion.

My mother is annoyed by the attitudes my father has with us, as he always comes back later in the evening smelling of alcohol, he has become absent from the family, and this is what has been happening for six months now: quarrels on quarrels as soon as there is neither the opportunity.

So i decided to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. I go in, look in the mirror and decide what to do: i rinse my face, brush my teeth and go to take my makeup bag and decide to do a quick and easy make-up so as not to waste time even though I got up earlier.

I put mascara on my thick lashes and then do two lines of eyeliner that are strangely symmetrical to me. Finally, i put on a flesh pink lipstick that highlights my full lips.

I take the brush from the cabinet and carefully brush my mid-length light brown hair, and they achieve a pretty decent result.

I open the door to my brother's room and he's still sleeping, i try to wake him up but i only get a pillow on my face and some insults. After some lecture to my brother, i go into my room, grab a pair of jeans, a simple beige sweater, and finally take my beloved Jordans.

I spray a little too much perfume and i'm ready for another boring school day. I notice that i have some time left, so i update my Instagram, and in the end, i decide to go downstairs where until recently my parents were fighting.

As soon as my mother sees me she greets me with the fakest smile on the planet and says:

I take a ham and mozzarella toast and answer after a bite:

She looks down, puts her hands on the table and says defeat:

I get up from my chair and hug her. I think she just needs a little love in this difficult time for her. I am only sorry that i can't help her in the right way. I'm not good at understanding the feelings of those in front of me, i often only create trouble.

I detach myself from the embrace and the greeting to go to school with my heart broken in a thousand pieces.

The road to school is not very far, but in this cold weather, i feel every single part of my body freezing. Mark is waiting for me, my best friend, not that crazy companion.

I've known him for 3 years now and he has always been close to me. He's different from me: he loves being with people. He's the classic guy who throws a party at home every weekend, and that's perhaps why we take each other so well, we're different.

Finally, the bus arrives, Mark and i get into our usual last two seats and i tell him what happened this morning. He listens to me and observes me, perhaps a little too much, and makes me uncomfortable.

I'm immersed in the book when i am interrupted by Mark who gives me a push to bring me back to reality. I take my eyes off the book and part my lips to ask him what he wants, and he says in a low voice:

I look around and i notice a very handsome boy looking at me. I stop the music from my mobile phone after he has noticed that i am also looking at him, he beckons me with his hand and I ask him:

.