2.2

Ben stared at the hand in front of him. He was uncertain how to react. This Claudia clearly was crazy. But what was there to do? Refuse a handshake?

After a few more moments of silence, he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and awkwardly shook her hand.

“Now excuse me I have some work to do. If you plan on staying here Amare will show you your room.” Said Claudia and bent over the map in front of her.

“Room?”

“But I’m not here to move in.” He said, frowning.

“Oh, didn't I mention that? Here you would be able to sleep in peace again.”

“Uh... no thanks,” Ben quickly replied. For sure he didn’t want to move in with that crazy woman.

Claudia just shrugged.

“All right, whatever you say. But if you do change your mind, just call,” she said, pointing to a phone on her desk. It was a black device with a dial.

Ben was puzzled, he wasn't even sure if this antique thing still worked. But he just nodded hastily. The sooner he was out of here the better.

After Claudia wrote down her phone number, the same boy that brought him walked him home. The whole way he kept a distance and seemed tense. This unsettled Ben. “What does he fear?”

Once home, the boy said goodbye with a stiff nod and disappeared back into the darkness.

When Ben entered the apartment, through the huge opening in the wall, some early birds were already singing and a first bright stripe was beginning to appear on the horizon. In the apartment, he noticed the slightly sweet smell of mold.

Strange, he had never noticed it before.

Ben sank onto the couch. In the dark, he looked at the place where his mother fell to the floor.

An empty floor. That was all that was left. A tear rolled down his cheek as emptiness spread inside of him. It swallowed him and didn’t let go until his eyes fell shut.

Ben stood in the clearing again. The traces of the figure were still clearly visible. The usually so pleasant sun shone glaring and cold on his face. The wind, which was normally liberating, gave him goosebumps and the trees no longer felt like they protected him.

Ben turned and started to run. He wanted to get away, out of this threatening forest and back home. He ran and ran but the woods simply took no end.

At some point, Ben stopped and leaned against a tree to breathe. After catching his breath, he noticed that the tree looked strangely familiar. It was the tree the creature had leaned against in his last dream. Dry and rotten, it stood out from the, otherwise so lively forest. Ben was standing in the clearing again.

The thunder of a passing train snapped Ben out of his dream. Through the glaring sunlight, the dust swirled through the air.

Tired, he got up and rubbed his eyes dozily

“I don't want to go to school today.” he decided.

The events of last night had not yet settled down. Ben doubted that they ever would.

So, Ben laid down in bed and fell into a sluggish trance. “How am I supposed to move on now, all by myself?”

He couldn’t answer that question.

Time whirled past him. Like a gray soup, bland and uneventful. Hours turned into days while Ben retreated deep into his thoughts of grief and sadness.

Finally, one evening, Ben was forcefully pulled out of his trance by the ringing of his phone. But he didn't answer. He didn't want to talk. Instead, he snuggled a little deeper into his blanket and listened to the song of a nightingale deep into the night.

When the first rays of sunlight found their way into Ben's room, Ben's throat was dry and his stomach was growling loudly.

He had hardly eaten anything in the last few days and hadn't even realized how hungry he was. Clumsy, Ben stumbled out of his bed and stretched.

After eating breakfast, he decided to take a closer look at the damage done to the front door.

The hole was about two meters high and one and a half meters wide. The door itself was lying on the floor in the hallway, smashed into many small pieces.

Would the insurance company pay for that? If not, Ben would have a problem. Money was already tight, even if he only had to support himself he could never afford the repair costs. Also, it was strange that not a single person passing by had noticed the door was broken.

But in reality, Ben didn't care about the door. In his mind, he was with his mother. Perhaps she had left something behind after all?

“Maybe there are still somewhere old pictures or something else to remind me of her.”

And so Ben spent the rest of the day turning the entire apartment upside down.

While raindrops pounded against the thin walls and found their way into the apartment through the hole, he searched every box, drawer, and closet for anything his mother might have left behind. Ben didn't care what, whether it was photos, jewelry, or valuables.

As long as it was something that his mother owned, and that could remind him of her.

But there was nothing. His mother didn't have a room; if she was at home at all she usually just slept on the couch. Apart from that, she almost always wore the same clothes. Ben had no photos of her. In fact, he had no photos at all, except for a class photo from the beginning of the school year.

After several hours of searching, Ben found only a few bottles of alcohol hidden in a cupboard. Most of them were empty.

Dejected, Ben threw himself on the couch and took a big sip from one of the few bottles that weren’t empty. Strangely, though, it didn't make him feel the slightest bit closer to his mother.

In the early evening, the rain had mostly stopped and it was only drizzling.

“Are you sure? You could have just written a letter.”

“You've known me long enough. You know very well that I don't like to deliver such news by text.”

“But boss!”

“Calm down, I've already made up my mind! Besides, a walk in the fresh air is good for my old bones.”

The two men drew closer and stopped in front of Ben's apartment.

“For heaven's sake what happened here?”

“Boss wait, this could be dangerous.”

“Take it easy. I'm sure there's an explanation for this.”

The men entered the living room. One was rather young, had short black hair, and wore a suit as well as an expensive-looking tie with matching pointed leather shoes. His narrow face gave no information about his state of mind.

The other man was much older and had a slightly bent gait. His comfortable clothes and gray hair gave him an open and friendly appearance.

“Good evening, I hope we're not intruding,” the older man said in a polite tone.

Ben frowned. The man looked vaguely familiar. Then he recognized him. In a flash, Ben was wide awake and sat up straight. Of course, he knew the man he was looking at. After all, there were pictures of him hanging in every hallway of Saint Deval. The man in front of him was none other than his principal.