IRC-Galleria

The day after I learned you were gone, I went straight to school. Every teacher knew what had happened so I guess I was under a lot of surveillance.
I remember sitting in front of this canteen table, all of the lights being off because the whole room is empty. I remember the whirring sound of those dish-washing machines just drilling into my ears.
The cook just put some food on my plate and I was told to eat.
I remember not being able to put anything in my mouth. The thought, the smell, everything about that plate of meatballs disgusted me.
I stared at my plate while this lady was telling me I have to eat at LEAST one, then she would let me go to class.
I didn't have any kind of appetite for anything. And the thought of the school day being over and knowing you wouldn't be there to pick me up anymore, ever, was harder to handle than the thought of swallowing that one fucking meatball.
I took half a bite. Didn't swallow. She told me I could go, and while carrying my tray away I spat it out on the plate. Burnt as shit.
I can't recall anything else.
I can't recall some years.