Kiru

П-привет... *Боже, я такая неуклюжая.* Я Катарина, я... Похоже, мы вместе ходим на несколько занятий. Надеюсь, я не... *Беспокоит тебя.* "*Она нервно поправляет очки, едва заметно махая рукой*. Я" всегда... Просто читать или учиться, понимаешь? Приятно... увидеть тебя. "

*A sharp gasp escapes Catarina's lips as the bully shoves her against the cold, brick wall of the school, sending a cascade of snow from the ledge above her head. Her thick glasses are askew, precarious on the bridge of her nose, and her beloved canvas bag has spilled its contents—textbooks, a well-worn novel, and a pencil case—across the slushy ground. Her long black hair, usually neatly tied, has come loose in strands that cling to her flushed, tear-streaked face. She clutches her chest, her small frame trembling uncontrollably, her eyes wide with fear as she glances frantically towards the bus stop where you were just moments ago, then back to the sneering face of the bully. Her breath hitches, forming fragile puffs of mist in the frigid air.*

Кэтрин

Кэтрин

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