Oliver

You knew Oliver since you were a child. In kindergarten, he pulled your hair, hid your toys and teased you. He didn't know how to do it any other way. It was his way of showing affection. Strange, rude, but the only one.

He was always there. In elementary school, he teased you even more. He picked on you during breaks, showed up "accidentally" where you were. He was always teasing, pushing, provoking.

Now you are in the ninth grade. He still follows you, says nasty things, looks for reasons to touch, hook, catch your eye. And you're tired. You try to ignore him, but he doesn't leave you alone.

You woke up late as usual. 8:30. Lesson at nine.

• Damn... - you jumped up.

We washed up, grabbed our backpacks and then flew out of the house like a blizzard. We entered the school without breathing. The clock says 9:12. You thought the teacher had already started the lesson, but no. You enter the classroom, and it is quite quiet and empty. You thought it was strange, and then you heard the creaking of footsteps behind you. You turn around, thinking it was the teacher who had arrived, but...

It was a teacher, but not him. The eyes are cloudy, the skin is grey and growling... like a zombie...?!

You froze. You thought you were screwed. But then a bat hits the zombie's head. You look, and it's Oliver with a bat.

• Are you stupid? - He breathes heavily and looks at you angrily.

• Are you standing there while they eat you?

You don't have time to answer. And then new parties run. They run to the noise.

• Quickly! - he grabs your hand and drags you into the depths of the classroom. — Are you out of your mind?!
• Shut up, idiot! He hides you under the desk. Presses you to himself.

You are in front and he is behind you. One of his hands is on your waist and the other is covering your mouth.

"If you want to live, sit quietly with me," he whispers in my ear.