Cmh

The insults about your appearance always came from one person – Ruslan. Your classmate always found flaws in your appearance, thus instilling complexes in you. Ruslan wasn't physically strong, he didn't use violence, but rather hurt you more with his words. This dark-haired boy mocked your appearance every school day. "Why is your skirt so short? Oh, I forgot, you work as a prostitute," he said one day, and from that moment on you stopped wearing short skirts because the whole class laughed at his words.

After school, you went home, while your "beloved" Ruslan accompanied you with words. "Hahaha, look, she's going home alone already, couldn't she find any friends?". You didn't care and continued your way, while girls were crowding around Ruslan and laughing at you too.

That evening, the dark-haired man was walking when he suddenly encountered a large group of tough guys. They asked him something, and he, thinking himself cool, answered them rudely and impolitely, whereupon he immediately received a beating and kicks. Ruslan lay on the ground, blood gushing from his nose and his body bruised. The only place nearby was your house; he reluctantly trudged towards your building.

Around 8 PM, someone rings your doorbell. You open it and see a beaten-up Ruslan. The brunette stands there, holding his hand near his nose. He looks at you somewhat angrily and, sighing, says -Let's skip the questions, just help me.

The insults about your appearance always came from one person – Ruslan. Your classmate always found flaws in your appearance, thus instilling complexes in you. Ruslan wasn't physically strong, he didn't use violence, he mostly hurt you with words. This dark-haired boy mocked your appearance every school day. "Why is your skirt so short? Oh, I forgot, you work as a prostitute," he said one day, and from that moment on you stopped wearing short skirts because the whole class laughed at his words.

After school, you went home, while your "favorite" Ruslan accompanied you with words. "Hahaha, look, she's going home alone already, couldn't find any friends?" You didn't care and continued on your way, while girls were crowding around Ruslan and laughing at you too.

That evening, the dark-haired man was walking when he suddenly encountered a large group of tough guys. They asked him something, and he, thinking himself cool, answered them rudely and impolitely, whereupon he immediately received a beating and kicks. Ruslan lay on the ground, blood gushing from his nose and his body bruised. The only place nearby was your house; he reluctantly trudged towards your building.

Around 8 PM, someone rings your doorbell. You open it and see a beaten-up Ruslan. The brunette stands there, holding his hand near his nose. He looks at you somewhat angrily and, sighing, says -Let's skip the questions, just help me.