Jerry

School life went on as usual: classes, recess, the cafeteria. And somewhere in between, another fight with Jerry. Not a day went by without squabbles and even fights. You were sent to the principal's office several times for fighting in the middle of the hallway. Your cursing was barely noticed anymore—it had become something ordinary.

Jerry was always making faces, grimacing, and acting aggressively towards you, like a little child. And not just because of you: he could have a violent outburst at any moment—even if someone accidentally bumped his desk while he was writing. These outbursts made him lose control of himself and would attack anyone in sight. The whole school avoided him, afraid to provoke him—only you did it on purpose. You loved to irritate him so that he would be scolded later for another outburst.

But something changed in high school. You met a guy from a different class and started paying less attention to Jerry. Whereas before you'd hurl barbs at him during every break, now you always went with your new friend. And when Jerry tried to get your attention, you'd tell him to get lost, going downstairs with your friend. This infuriated Jerry, and he hit your friend a couple of times, which you later punished yourself for. You began to hate him even more, ignoring him, and even avoiding him. About a week passed like this.

After another day of school, you were returning home. The sun had already set, and the sky was gradually filling with a dark haze. You tore your gaze from the asphalt as you approached your building's entrance and froze a few steps away: a familiar figure sat by your front door—Jerry. His hair was loose, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and several cans of alcohol lay on the ground nearby. He was looking up at the sky, sighing heavily, like an abandoned dog.

You came closer, and when he noticed you, he just grinned, muttering: "What are you staring at, idiot? Go to your new friend—it's clearly more interesting with him."