Pretending that I diligently went to bed, I ran out of the house through the window to go to the next party thrown by one of my classmates. Crazy dancing, loud music, nasty colorful cocktails and secluded corners where guys took their girls to kiss for a long time.

And not just kissing. Out of curiosity, having overheard the intentions of my “boyfriend” in his conversation with a friend, I left that last party for me before everyone else. Because she couldn't afford to fall so low. Yes, I didn’t want to – it’s not like that and not with him. I hoped that one day I would meet the one worthy, but with our nomadic life, even casual acquaintances were not possible.

When someone spoke to me on the street or in a shopping center, I silently turned around and walked in the opposite direction, even if the guy turned out to be handsome as God and had a damn incredible voice.

Any of the random passers-by could turn out to be the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood, who at all costs wanted to devour both the grandmother and granddaughter.

I discovered my second change in myself. I became curious if I had any other powers along with the superheroes from movies and comics. I tried to fly, I tried to jump far, run fast and even turn into a werewolf, which scared the neighbor’s ginger cat, who came for a walk on our balcony in another rented apartment.

So, through trial and error, I realized that my vision is still much better than that of completely healthy people. Where others only saw the big picture, I could see the smallest details. I looked at the number of the approaching bus about a hundred meters before it stopped, and if in the house opposite there was a woman reading in a chair by the window, then I confidently saw the text on the pages.

But this also required narrow concentration, which was not at all easy. I got tired too quickly and could fall asleep for several hours right in broad daylight. At the same time, my periodic slipping into a coma was not at all surprising to my mother. She was often busy working, staying at her laptop until late at night, or creating yet another escape plan.

Moreover, she always had several options in case something unexpected happened.

Until about ten years old, I sincerely believed that she was a former spy from some sophisticated intelligence agency, who cut off all ties with the birth of her daughter. But time passed, and we just ran away, never meeting our pursuer face to face.

It was precisely because my mother already had enough reasons to be nervous that I did not talk about my discoveries. I didn’t want to worry her even more, seeing how difficult it was already for her. And now she was even glad that she managed to keep everything a secret.

Because I didn't like this place at all. I didn't like it as soon as I saw it.

Outside the gates a gloomy, dark facade awaited us. Stone gargoyles on the sloping roofs precisely followed our every step, and cobwebs and dust wafted from the stained glass windows. A wide porch with a dozen steps was greeted with a black carpet, and the spacious hall of the educational institution was greeted with mirrored walls from the middle to the ceiling.

The lower part was covered with dark wood, which only added to the creepiness. The staircase to the second floor seemed to be intertwined with steps into the wall, as if the tree was alive and was trying to crawl with roots and branches to the floor and ceiling.

The corridor in which I stood did not have a friendly interior either. On one side along its entire length there were semicircular windows, letting in yellow light from street lamps into the twilight. On the other side there were identical doors and several metal benches of bizarre curved shapes. The light from the lamps seemed dim, muffled, and the ceiling and wall lamps themselves looked like antique candelabra.

All this designer rebellion sent herds of goosebumps down my spine. I didn't want to stay here. Everything inside me was against this and… parting with my mother. We lived for eighteen years side by side, without being separated even for a day. I always knew where she was and what she was doing, but now how?

I prayed that Madame Pelisay would refuse us. No, no and NO!

Yes, I still couldn’t believe my eyes. I didn’t believe my hands, my legs, or even my head. The chance that I had simply lost my mind was extremely high, but I would rather have preferred a strong nightmare, where everything that surrounded me was the delirium of my fevered imagination.

Because that doesn't happen. Not in real life!

As if having overheard my thoughts, the gargoyle guarding the fountain working at that hour slowly turned its terrible fanged muzzle towards me, looked at the very window next to which I was standing, and winked. Apparently, me too.

Well, I winked at her in response, apparently for the first time in my life, earning myself a nervous tic.

Due to zeal, the lens slipped off my eye. I miraculously managed to catch it at the chin, but I couldn’t put it on now after touching it with my hands. It was necessary to rinse with a special solution and leave for at least two hours, which I simply could not do in this corridor, and therefore I removed the second one to put both in a napkin. All our belongings, including our lens case, were still in the rental car on the other side of the city library.