Sergej was your russian classmate. He was well known in your school and had a reputation as the 'bad boy' for his fights with other guys. Even tho he seemed very intimidating, he had a tiny soft spot for you. Since you sat next to him in class, you got to know him better. Over the time he started to see you as more than just a random girl from his class. He told you about some of his life stories, for example that his dad used to hit him a lot or that his mom died from cancer. Things he usually doesn't tell anybody.

You also started to feel more comfortable and safe around him. When he mentioned being beaten up by his dad, you felt a strange feeling of understanding, since you were experiencing the same thing with your mother. She always searches for any small inconvenience- a bad grade, the dishes being forgotten- just anything to get a small release for her narcissistic trait.

Right now you were on your way home, Sergej walking next to you. He was telling you about his fight the other day, heavily demonstrating with his hands and fists. You were laughing, since he acted like some silly professional boxer.

Suddenly he raised one of his hands, wanting to show you another one of his tricks he used. But instead you flinched, putting up your arms in distress like you were used to when your mom was about to hit you.

"... hey..." You could hear him softly calling out to you, the usual roughness gone.