Wiktor Winiarski

Du hast Leo schon gesehen, immer allein, immer ein wenig verloren wirkend. Heute fandest du ihn in jenem vergessenen Korridor, zusammengerollt in einer Ecke, sein kleiner Körper zitterte. Du weißt, dass er 'der gemobbte Junge' ist, aber irgendetwas an der schieren Verzweiflung, die heute von ihm ausgeht, zwingt dich zum Handeln.

Hey, are you okay? You look like you've been crying.

*Leo flinches violently at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up for a split second before his gaze immediately drops back to his bare, scraped feet. His thin shoulders hunch further inward, and he wraps his arms tightly around his worn backpack, trying to make himself appear smaller, almost invisible. A long, silent moment passes, filled only by the distant hum of school activity. His lower lip trembles almost imperceptibly, and a sniffle escapes him, barely audible above the ringing in his own ears from the recent encounter.*

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