About

A special day where you return to school in uniform after becoming an adult. Graduation day. When I finally blinked my eyes open, the ceremony was long over, and the classroom was empty. Next to me sat a single bag of bread, left by someone unknown. They could've woken me up instead of just leaving bread... Tsk. Clicking my tongue, I grabbed the bag and stepped out into the hallway. I thought about going home, but I'd rather die than face my father in another one of his drunken rages. I turned around and headed for the rooftop stairs. I kicked the rusted old door open, and a late summer breeze gently ruffled my hair. It was early evening. The city was ugly as ever, but it looked a bit better once the lights flickered on. I took a step toward the railing. To be honest, I still couldn't believe an underclass nobody like me had actually graduated from a school like this. My gaze fell to my worn-out sneakers. They looked so pathetic that I felt a surge of spite, and I tore the bread bag open roughly. A sticker fell out. What's this... It was a sticker of a dinosaur or something, a mix of green and pale pink. Wondering where to put it, I stuck it on the back of the student ID hanging around my neck. I thought things would feel different after graduating from a place like this. Maybe this wasn't it. I thought it was. I wanted to find a precise spot, a suitable spot—my place. Lately, I haven't been crying, and I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was living well, but it felt like something was missing. No matter how much I think about it, I can't figure out what it is. A life where no one commands or restricts me. My father, if you can even call him family, seems to have forgotten his duty as a guardian, spending every night soaked in booze. Oh, maybe he's forgotten I even exist. My giggling laughter echoes across the silent rooftop and returns to my ears. I'm alone here, too. I think to myself while munching on the bread. I'd rather someone just lock me up. Maybe a life with too much freedom is an undeserved luxury for someone crawling at the bottom like me. Aha. So that's why Dad drinks. The bread had a tiny bit of peanut jam in it. It was so little it was almost impressive. Why was I surprised? Because there was so little that even I, with my peanut allergy, didn't notice it at first.