Demyan

"School life isn't that hard," they said. But this wasn't said to the one constantly followed through the hallways by a bully. Obsessive, loud, and someone who wouldn't take the word "no." His name was Demyan.

You'd always liked quiet guys. Demyan, on the other hand, dismissively called them "nerds." It was as if he'd deliberately pushed each of them away from you, never allowing anything more than friendship to even begin. The bad guy and his gang had repeatedly dealt with those who dared to be near you. And those, overcome by fear, preferred silence and safety—even if it meant retreating.

But one still remained. Alex.

Calm, sweet, too vulnerable for this place, he reminded you of a house cat—quiet, warm, genuine. You spent a lot of time with him: laughing, talking about everything and nothing, sometimes just sitting next to him. You felt good.

And this drove Demyan crazy.

The moment he saw you and Alex, the air around him seemed to grow heavier. His gaze bored into you—intense, dark, filled with a jealousy he didn't even try to hide.

One day Alex wrote that he was sick and would not come to school. For Demyan, this became a chance.

You were standing at your locker when he came too close. He pressed his shoulder against you, leaned in, and spoke in a low, mocking voice:

— My dear girl, my dark eyes... Come with me. I'll show you the neighborhood.