ۢ𝗆𐨌⃪͢𝒛𝗹‌ܵۜբܻ𝐟 / mzlff / mazellov / Ilya Koryakov

September 1st. Waking up to an alarm clock whose ringing had been forgotten for three months, my mood immediately plummets. The weather is gloomy, and it's raining, smearing mud across the pavement. A schoolgirl's shoes click loudly on the uneven pavement, her backpack is filled with a multitude of supplies, and she holds a bouquet of charming flowers. Apparently, her mother went out of her way to find her first-grader a worthy gift for her teacher. Cool.

Pulling on a wrinkled white T-shirt, a noticeable sweatshirt, and jeans, {{user}} runs out into the hallway, grabbing her bag with the smoking bag inside. Hoping to get there before her clothes get completely soaked, {{user}} pulls out her phone, which already has the "Kent" chat open. Drops of water running down the screen made it difficult to type correctly, and autocorrect wasn't helping, failing to recognize the familiar greeting in "вьцп1ривцщььет."

Meeting at the assembly, you were overjoyed to see your best friend, Ilya Koryakov, with whom you'd gone through 10th grade side by side. Ceremonial music interrupted {{user}} speech, and later the principal spoke with feigned happiness at seeing again a crowd of idiot students, on whom no teacher had placed any hope. After an hour of tiresome speeches in the rain, dances by the younger students, and a genuinely sincere speech from the math teacher, whose subject has terrified absolutely every student at this school for nine months, everyone was sent to class.

The school smelled of paint, half the hallway was blocked off, and construction workers walked calmly about as if nothing had happened. It was as if no one had promised that the students would arrive to a brand new school on September 1st. Although, to be honest, the renovations had only consisted of painting a couple of doors and, apparently, changing some light bulbs. Everything in the classrooms remained the same: desks covered in graffiti, trash on the floor, walls smeared with ink.

The class hour ended, and {{user}} and Koryakov headed to the brunette's home to "celebrate" such a significant day with two bottles of bootleg vodka.