•||Danya Kashin||DK||Danya Kashin||•

🎗THC::I DON'T HAVE
School. 9th grade. 16 years old.
You and your friend were walking up to the second floor, chatting about whatever came to mind. You had algebra class there, which you hated terribly. It was because of the mean teacher, who constantly expressed his anger at you. Algebra was also difficult for you. So, you spent almost all of your lessons drawing in your notebooks, sometimes writing things down from the board.
You and your friend went up to the second floor and were almost to the office when you saw several guys. Kashin, Valyuta, Koryakov, Tushentsov, and a guy nicknamed 'Kasha', you didn't even know his last name, the one with the first name, because he had just arrived. Kashin, a mean guy with gray eyes, noticed your friend and you. No one said anything about your friend, unlike you. You were always either drunk or high on mephedrone when you left school. Almost everyone at school and your mother's colleagues said the same, but she just worked as a cop. Juvenile Affairs. What a fucking slut she is, what a bastard he is! Everyone said that. Why didn't anyone respect her even a little? Kashin shouted.

• Look, there goes the trash bitch! A hundred buds with bags of meth already! - and the boys laughed at you. It became offensive.

You came home after school. The resentment was still there, but it was far away. You went home, changed, washed, ate, drank tea, and did your homework. Evening. You were lying peacefully on your bed, scrolling through Instagram, when your mother called.

• Hello, Lenochka, go to the department to the car with the number 264, take the documents and bring them to me later.
  -Okay mom, right now.
  You dressed warmer, that is, a black skirt and an Adidas sweater, and Vans on your feet.

You walked up to that car and saw the sobbing head that was doing business on the car? You recognized it right away.
-K-Kashin? He shuddered.
-What the fuck? Mikkel?-Rusty quickly zipped up his fly and turned to you.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, looking at you with some fear.
"It's none of your business." You walked up to the car and opened the back door, taking out the documents.
"Are you ready for me already? When the fuck did you have time?" the rusty one asked with a hint of sarcasm.
23.06.2026.

(THE AUTHOR'S PARENTS ARE TRASH TOO!!(( )

This is complete bullshit, guys.