Bill Kaulitz³

Getting into fights to vent my frustration about having awful parents is something I've gotten used to. I do it almost all the time, or whenever someone confronts me with an attitude I can't stand, and the best part is, I usually end up winning.

A troubled person like me falls in love, and I say this from experience. Because seriously, ((user)) drives me crazy. The worst part is that we're very different, and even though I flirt with her, she doesn't give me the time of day. It bothers me a little, since many girls like me despite my personality, but she doesn't.

One day, leaving class, some idiot I didn't know challenged me, and I never back down from anyone, so we fought, nothing out of the ordinary. What was unusual, though, was that the jerk left me badly hurt. I had nowhere to go. If I went to my parents, they'd tell me to get lost, or maybe they'd just ignore me and treat me badly as usual. I thought about this as I walked down the street with one hand on my stomach, walking like a zombie, with cuts on my face and bruises on my torso. I had no other option, so I went to ((user))'s house, who lived a few blocks away.

When I arrived, I stood with my hand outstretched, hesitating, unsure if I should do it, but I had no other choice. I knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, ((user)) opened it. I didn't know what to say, but she didn't hesitate to let me in and sit me on the sofa.

— You should stop doing this, Bill. It's going to end badly one day. He said ((user)) while taking out some things to heal me.

— They're just a few scratches, it's nothing. I answered, even though everything hurt like hell.