I sighed. “Come oooon.” James chuckled, and I elbowed him, turning back to face my mom. Like sure, parents are really helpful and you may consider yourself lucky to have them alive by you’re 17, but it wasn’t exactly my case. I’ll get to that later, I think. Anyway, I turned back, facing my mom. I watched as her tired-looking face, adorned with two blue eyes and a little scar on her left cheek, making her look like she’s coming to get you when she’s smiling, come closer. She took my face between her hands. “Are you okay? I ran here as fast as I could when I heard the news! Did they harm you?” She glanced at James, then before I could even open my mouth, she went on interrogating me. “Who saved you guys? God, I must thank your teachers, or your principal at the very least.” I gently took her hands off my face and stepped back. “It’s all okay, mom. Can you let me go on this, please?” Of course, she wouldn’t: “Tell me, who am I to be grateful for saving the school?” I took one of the deepest breaths I’m pretty sure a human can actually take. “We did. Okay? Be grateful at me.” I looked at James. “At us.” Her mouth dropped open. She stared at James. I could tell that she was trying to understand. She disliked James, and his parents, and that probably had confused him when I told that we had fought off. She looked back at me, frowning. “You two? Saved the school?” “Not exactly, there were ot-“ James tried to explain that part till my mom shut him up with a deadly look. She leaned towards the left, trying to see across the hallway. Her eyes fixed on the bodies lying fifteen-twenty meters further. Then she turned her eyes on me. Then back at the bodies. Then at James. “Did you guys-“ “Yes. I’m okay. He’s okay.” I answered, trying to relieve her. “I am not!” she blurted. “My daughter killed people this young? What were your teachers doing? Cleaning the classroom, I suppose?” James poked me, and I looked at him. I nodded, and he walked off, leaving me and my mother alone. “Mom, can we talk this further somwhere else? Like, not in front of everyone?” (To be honest, we were totally alone there but just ignore that fact, will ya?) She shrugged, and I guided her into the principal’s room, knowing that it would be totally unpopulated, as the principal probably had already left the school. We took our seats on two barely-standing chairs. Our school sure wasn’t the best in any way, but it existed, and I knew that it was a crucial advantage I had in my life. She looked around, then at me. “So, tell me everything. I only know that there were people with guns rushing in, and now, it was you, Jim and a couple more kids. What the heck happened?” I told her how things developed. How they shot our teachers, and me and James were the only ones to actually start fighting back, gathering a bit more support, and helping more people out. Here’s what I skipped: I obviously didn’t tell her that I had been stabbed, since I was fine and she would keep me under surveillience for the next month. I also decided not to tell what happened with Gina, and how I kind of had fun burning people. Those would do nothing but make her even more worried about me. When I was done, I took one of the pencils on the principal’s desk and started fiddling with the long, wooden stick as I let the events sink in to my mom. After a couple of eternities, a.k.a. about 7 minutes, she violently shook her head, and cleared her throat. “Are you alright? From what I have heard, you killed people.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course I am! Murder isn’t that ra-“ “I don’t want my daughter to be a bloodthirsty trooper, and I will not let this event be repeated again.” Her words cut through me like I was sinking, inch by inch, down to the bottom of the Earth. I knew what she could do: she could get me off the training classes, which would be a bit sad because it was a rather fun class. Or else, she could make me wear some of the “ultra-protective jackets” she would get from her monthly meetings. I brushed those thoughts away with a flicker of my wrist, and stood up after my mother, following her out the room and into the now-crowded hallway. My eyes darted around to see who was there, and I saw James talking to his parents. His eyes suddenly filled with liveliness and he pointed at me, shooting words rapid-fire out of his mouth. They took some quick steps towards us. I smiled, answering James’s dad’s grin with his wolf-like features and his mom’s untamed smile which she didn’t seem like she could even try to hide it in the slightest. “Are you guys okay?” James’s dad demanded. He gave me a pat on the back, and I flashed a smile. My mom kept her stern expression. “We are, thank you.” “I was worried when I first heard the news but looks like we made some little heroes out of these two, didn’t we, Jessica?” James’s mom said with an excited voice. She could seem a little childish or creepy at times, but I found her strangely relatable. She always made me feel like she understood me. My mom narrowed her eyes. She most definitely didn’t like James, and his parents. She always told me that they were too “laid-back” and “not caring at all”. I never understood why she didn’t even try to understand them, neither did I ever have the courage to ask. “Depends on the perspective, Hannah. Depends on the perspective, and yours seem to be the broken one.” Then she turned around, grabbed me by the arm and walked away, pretty much dragging me besides her. I waved to James’s parents, and turned around to catch up with my mother.

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