IRC-Galleria

Getting into the backseat of a cold car, in a winter evening.
The seat, the seatbelt, cold to the touch. Your breath misting up to a small cloud of smoke when you breathe out.
Drawing a smileyface or heart to a window on your right.
It´s dark out and it isn´t even 6pm.
Just after dance practice, legs feel weak.
A mother crying into the steering wheel just after she pulled out of the parking lot, not getting far after receiving a call.
Sobbing quietly to not disturb her child.


After an uncomfortable silence and words unsaid she turns, and says..
"Wille isn´t here anymore."
Somehow knowing exactly what that meant even if you do not own any perception or understanding of death.
But you knew.

The sad ride home, both of your sobs filling up the car.
Getting home and calling the only two people you know to call, your best friend and your father.
Father coming to our house to comfort me and cry along side me.


The following day, and the only thing worth remembering..
The blue walls and tables of an elementary school canteen.
The empty seats beside you, wondering how long it has been since class started.
Not even realizing you were left alone.
The lunch-lady standing beside you, not allowing you to leave unless you've eaten at least a small bite.

Looking at the vegan meatballs on your creamy white plate.
The food doesn't look appetizing.
Taking a small bite, not enjoying it- almost gagging.
The lunch-lady letting you go, and you go out to empty out your plate.

Spitting out the burnt-tasting meatball.

Going home to find you aren't in your own room.


Yet you never were.