-5-

Like always

It is Thursday, the day of my weekly visit. My parents came to talk to me, most of the time, to lecture me. They start off softly, ask for news about my latest activities, then move on to the silly things I have done, and finish off in style with my board failures.

Sitting in a room, which was generally used for relaxation breaks, or for the writing and reading workshop. Parents who visit their children come and sit here. I waited patiently for them, arms crossed, as did my legs.

- Late again.

I mumble as I watch the clock ticking in front of me. My foot moves frantically, in the void. As annoyance rises in me, the door eventually opens, on my father and mother-in-law.

- We make ourselves want, as always.

I point them out with a smirk, making my stepmother sigh.

- Hello to you too, excuse us for being late.

My father told me kindly, sitting down across from me.

- I'll be brief, there is nothing special. You can go home.

I reply by uncrossing my legs and arms. My father lowers his head slightly, in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

- Didn't you think we weren't going to find out about your unhealthy act? Poor idiot.

Slap my father's new wife looking down at me, with tight lips, to show his disgust.

- And so ? What more to say on the subject?

My brow furrows as I sit up from my chair, clicking my tongue on the palate. The woman in front of me rolls her eyes, suddenly placing her hands on the table, to show her anger.

- Enough, little plague! When you are asked to fix their case, you always find a way to make a disaster. We can't get enough of you!

She screams like a fury. My eyes narrow and I glance at my father, who still hasn't said a word.

- Next time, send me a fax instead of coming.

I get up from my chair and walk past my father. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he props his head up to look at me with sad eyes.

- Don't worry, it's temporary. I'll pull myself together.

I give him a thin smile and walk to the exit, then open the door on my way out.

- Come home fine, bye.

I close the door behind me, and automatically walk to the dormitory. A small, weary sigh crosses my lips a second time.

I don't like to make my dad sad, even though he still agrees with my stepmom. I know she's the one pulling the strings of his life. Since they've been together, it's been like that. I don't judge my parent, apart from paying my boarding school fees, he said absolutely nothing when I spent the ultimate sin with my teacher.

I ended up getting to the dorm, after a 10 minute walk. When I enter the large room filled with single beds, a young girl sitting with her back to me calls out to me. She was lying on the empty bed next to mine on my left. A travel bag, casually placed at the foot of the bed, makes me realize that it is new. Her long copper hair that falls on her lower back, her shoulders hunched forward, and light sobs cross the empty and calm room.

She mustn't have heard me coming, but when I take a few steps forward on the wooden floor. She turns around with a start, looking at me with eyes, bathed in tears.

- Hi.

I told him with a brief wave, then continued walking to my bed. I pay more attention to him and go to look under my mattress for tablets for the throat. I sit on my bed facing her and retrieve my little water bottle from the floor to drink. I could feel his tearful gaze on me, especially the pills I hold in my hand.

- I'm not a drug addict, my throat hurts.

I justify myself by turning the box towards her, to show the label. I swallow a pill then put my things away before sitting back down on my bed, both arms resting back.

- What's your name ? , I'm just asking.

Seeing her so sad pity me a little, but she reminds me of myself. The first time I arrived here was three years ago.

- Tania, Benier., Answers the young girl with a British accent.

- Justine, Koffer.

I extend my hand to him in sympathy. His brown eyes stare at my pale hand and then squeeze it shyly. I suppress a satisfied smile, then fold my arms, detailing her more deeply. Her face is dotted with freckles, and her lips are still trembling. Her long hair shines with Venetian luster, and her face resembles that of a wax doll. She's cute, without actually being. I could see that my gaze staring at her bothered her.

- How old are you ? , I ask him tilting my head to the side.

- I'm 18 and you ?

- 20 years.

His feverish voice cuts, to sniff into his white fabric handkerchief. She is young, I wonder why she is here.

- Did Lady Monique bring you back?

She nods gently, then slowly gets up, and puts her handkerchief in her velvet coat. I am sure she comes from a bourgeois family, judging her clothes. Children of families are common here, for the simple reason that their parents are unable to educate them properly. To be born in a cradle of money, to grow up like a little prince, to have everything you want. The kids there are more likely to end up in a residential school.

- Put the rest of your things in the trunk opposite your bed. Normally they've already checked that you're not personal. Then take a shower and wear the outfit of the day, it's the gray shorts and the white shirt. Don't forget to go to Dame-Louise's room to have her give you new shoes.

I explain to him by opening the large wardrobe which makes a whole wall, or is all our same outfits, for the week to come. I put the clothes on her ear head and walked with my hands in my pockets to the door.

- Thanks, but why are you helping me?

Her broken, sensitive voice reached my ears. I just turn my head and raise my eyebrows.

- 3 years ago, I was in exactly the same place as you.