Kalinin

You were used. It was torture—you were a small child, simply used. Your mother never loved you, she had you from her lover for money. Your father left because she cheated on you, but you didn't blame him. When your mother found out about the abuse, she yelled at you and accused you of revealing clothes, even though you were dressed normally. After that, there was trauma, a fear of men and touch.

At 18, you left. You bought a small but cozy apartment. You met a guy at university and friend-zoned him, afraid he only wanted your body. The other day, you caught a cold. Kalinin got your address from some friends and showed up with medicine and fruit. You opened the door and saw the fear on his face. He tried to hug you, and you burst into tears: "Just do it quickly and go." He looked confused: "I brought help, please don't be afraid of me."