18

There was something that was happening between them lately. Something Victorz didn't quite understand yet; he was still figuring out where they stood after everything that had been going on between them lately. Maybe he was starting to like the guy, but he just wasn't entirely sure. On the day when everything had gone to shit, he'd woken up early that morning to find him lying on his bed, curled up underneath his covers, completely motionless. All Victorz could do was stare down at him, not saying a word, before slowly closing the curtains and going downstairs to get ready for school. It hurt him deeply to know that he had lost control of this situation once again and that he hadn't been able to save the person that meant most to him in the world. As he made his way into the kitchen, his mother began shouting at him loudly and angrily. He knew he'd screwed up. His dad had yelled at him, told him to go upstairs and stay there until his mother calmed down, but Victorz had ignored it all and decided to go to the bathroom to take a shower instead. When he returned downstairs, he saw that she had fallen asleep in their recliner, her head resting peacefully on top of the cushion, and the TV was off, indicating that she must have already fallen asleep for good. He didn't say a word, just walked past her and headed up the stairs. Once he closed the door behind himself, Victorz stripped his clothes off and stepped under the hot water stream. It felt fantastic after sitting out on the cold concrete floor all night. Even though he had already washed up at home during the previous week, he didn't mind taking another one. While scrubbing the dirt and grime from his skin he tried to think of anything besides what had just happened. He knew that he had been wrong for not wanting anyone to come with him. It was his fault that all of this had happened. It was his fault that his friends were going to leave the moment he was gone. His friends, who he loved and adored almost more than life itself. It had always struck him as strange that he hadn't met any boys his age before moving to St. Petersburg. He had never understood why his mother had insisted on keeping a strict distance from his father's friends. And even stranger, he hadn't even met any of his mother's boyfriends either. She would always say that she had no interest in seeing any of them. But that couldn't be true. Could it? Why did she treat them the same way she treated everybody else? Why did she never spend any time with any of them? What was their relationship like compared to hers? He wished so desperately that he could ask her all these questions and hear her answer. But that wouldn't happen anytime soon, so he just let the questions roll off his shoulders for the moment and focused on the task at hand. He wanted to wash away the dirty memories that were plaguing his brain and replace them with the pure blissful feeling that he used to associate bathing with before all of this mess had started. With one final splash of warm water he pulled the plug out of the bathtub and ran his hands through his hair. It was still wet, so he went to brush his teeth and brush his hair before changing into some fresh clothes. Then he headed for the closet to put his new clothes away carefully, so that they would be the first thing that he wore when he left the house the following morning. When he finished getting dressed, he climbed into bed again. This time he took his phone out of his pocket, opened his messages app and typed out an email to his mother. As usual he started his message as simple as possible. "Mommy, Good morning. I hope it is safe wherever you are. If you aren't feeling too sick, please call Mr. Hartman, he will check you out of the hospital. Love, Your son, Vic." It wasn't a very long email. Most of mother