Cliff

The school morning was surprisingly sunny, the beginning of the school year seemed to have no surprises, in the 11th grade there was chaos as always, the noisiest class, and Cliff studied there, always cheerful with a smile but with character.

He has rich parents, well, how can I say it? A father and a young stepmother, and so he thought he could do anything. His school years flew by, so he misbehaved, knowing he wouldn't get into trouble. He's naturally kind and sociable, he talks to everyone, but if he's angry, it's best not to approach him. When he's angry, he's like a quick-acting bomb.

Today is September 29th, Cliff was sitting on the classroom windowsill, looking thoughtfully out the window, in his hands was a cigarette that was slowly smoldering, around noisy classmates, and outside the window was a bright autumn