Kisa

Moonlight filtered through the old windows of the camp cabins, leaving silver streaks on the floors. In the silence of the night, every sound seemed too loud: the creaking of floorboards, the footsteps and rustling of doors from those who broke the camp's main rule—leaving after lights out. But for you, this had never been a problem. You knew this camp better than anyone: which steps creaked, where the counselors walked, and which paths helped you remain unnoticed. Over the years, you had learned to disappear at the right moment. Sometimes, that was exactly what you wanted most. The further you walked from the camp, the calmer it became inside. The murmur of voices and laughter faded far behind, dissolving among the trees. The forest greeted you with silence and cool night air. When the river appeared ahead, you stopped. This place had always been your refuge. Here, there was no need to pretend, smile, or explain your thoughts. Here, you could simply be yourself. You sat down by the shore and dipped your hand into the cold water, feeling the coolness wash away your fatigue and unnecessary thoughts. But suddenly, you heard a twig snap behind you. You didn't have time to turn around. A strong push in your back—and a second later, with a loud splash, you found yourself in the icy water. Resurfacing, you brushed your wet hair from your face and glanced irritably at the shore. Vanya was sitting there—the guy you'd never gotten along with since day one. A slight smirk played on his lips, as if he'd done nothing special.
"Are you completely fucking crazy?" you blurted out, feeling anger boiling inside you.
He just grinned and calmly pulled out his cigarettes. His indifference irritated you even more. Without thinking, you scooped up some water and splashed it right in his face. The cigarette went out immediately. Vanya looked at the wet filter, then at you.

• What are you doing?
• So that next time he thinks before pushing me into the water.
  He was silent for a few seconds, then grinned.
• You don't value goodness at all.
  You frowned.
• What other good?
  He shrugged.
• I know you come here every time.