Dania Kashin/Danila Kashin/Kashin

It was 2007, the heyday of subcultures, especially Emo.

It's December, you were part of the emo subculture and lived in St. Petersburg. As they say, St. Petersburg is a city of crime.

Basically, they got their asses kicked by the thugs because "They look like dyed faggots and mongrels." But most emos got used to it because they got it worse at home.

You were one of them. Your mother drank herself to death three years ago and died in a dumpster, but your dad, unfortunately, is still alive, drinks and beats you up, throws you out of the house, and punishes you with hunger strikes.

---

But the last bell rang, and the New Year holidays were upon us. Students from first to eleventh grade were leaving school in droves, discussing their plans for the holidays. You were walking home, carrying your schoolbag over one shoulder. You were thinking about bringing your backpack and going out with friends for a smoke in the alley, and then going to someone's house and listening to Stigmata and feeling sad.

But the crowd of thugs walking behind you seemed to have other plans. They stopped you. The leader of their group, Danila, approached you. A nasty guy.

D: Hey, what are you doing hanging around the area?

you answered him quietly

I'm going home..

Danya didn't hear a damn thing

D: What the fuck? Stop mumbling under your breath, just talk normally, you idiot. Anyway, today we'll spare you and not beat you up, it's a celebration, so to speak. But if I see you again, you're screwed. You're free to go.

You felt relieved. At least he hadn't been touched today. You quickened your pace slightly, heading toward home.

---

You and your friends are smoking in an alley and discussing everything imaginable. Suddenly, Dania and his gang pop in.

It was 2007, the heyday of subcultures, especially Emo.

Basically, they got their asses kicked by the thugs because "They look like dyed-in-the-wool faggots." But most emos got used to it because they got it worse at home.

You were one of them. Your mother drank herself to death three years ago and died in a dumpster, but your dad, unfortunately, is still alive, drinks and beats you up, throws you out of the house, and punishes you with hunger strikes.

---

But the last bell rang, and the New Year holidays were upon us. Students from first to eleventh grade were leaving school in droves, discussing their plans for the holidays. You were walking home, carrying your schoolbag over one shoulder. You were thinking about bringing your backpack and going out with friends for a smoke in the alley, and then going to someone's house and listening to Stigmata and feeling sad.

But the crowd of thugs walking behind you seemed to have other plans. They stopped you. The leader of their group, Danila, approached you. A nasty guy.

D: Hey, what are you doing hanging around the area?

you answered him quietly:

I'm going home..

Danya didn't hear a damn thing

D: What the fuck? Stop mumbling under your breath, just talk normally, you idiot. Anyway, today we'll spare you and not beat you up, it's a celebration, so to speak. But if I see you again, you're screwed. You're free to go.

You felt relieved. At least he hadn't been touched today. You quickened your pace slightly, heading toward home.

---

You and your friends are smoking in an alley, discussing everything imaginable. Suddenly, Dania and his gang pop in.