The way home is quiet and my mind full of thoughts, as usual. Once I'm in front of the door, I get nervous and something stops me from entering. Maybe it's the fear of my mom seeing me, or maybe... the fact that the last night I slept here, Casy was here too... and... well, it was the night she... got closer? I don't know what to call it because I don't even know what it was. The thing is, those memories are popping up in my mind right now and they're obviously affecting me more than I thought they would.

I sigh, shake my head and take the key out of my backpack to unlock the door. I try to be quiet, but the door makes an inevitable noise that, thankfully, is barely audible.

Once inside, I automatically realize that no one is here. The lights are off and no noise can be heard. I have a clear path, or so I thought....

I calmly climb the stairs, but I immediately freeze. My eyes go wide and my brain is completely blocked. I am totally confused and stunned. No, no, no, no, no, no, no... this can't be. No, no, I'm not hearing that... no. No, those sounds can't be...

I want to go downstairs, open the door and leave, but I can't. My feet are glued to the floor and I can't move. My mind is screaming for me to get out of there, but my body doesn't seem to react. What the fuck is going on?

"God Cris..." says a panting female voice, who seems to be under a spell of sexual pleasure.

Okay if I was in shock before... now I think I'm going to faint at any moment. But... what the fuck?  This makes no sense at all; absolutely no fucking sense. My mom with... but if... he's not... and why... God!

I go down the few steps I climbed up the stairs and run out of the house, not giving a fuck if I make noise or not—they're busy, they won't hear anything.

Once outside I expel all the air my lungs were holding and start inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling. Trying to calm down, but I only manage to get more upset.

"God!" I shout while kicking the root of a tree a few feet away from the entrance of my house, which makes some people turn to look at me. I smile shyly and embarrassedly at them. Way to make a fool of yourself Hannah.

I sit on the curb, two streets away from my house, spread my legs a little apart, rest my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands together, as I mull over what I just heard.

Okay, so, I just heard someone moaning, my mom to be more specific, nothing strange, something normal, I am aware that sex is normal and of course it doesn't terrify or frighten me. Anyway, hearing precisely that sound after having witnessed that thing I witnessed at the school bathroom... makes it a completely different situation. My brain literally froze when I heard that sound again and, if we add that it came from my mom's room, it's logical why I was in shock. God, my life is like a pretty complicated novel.

But there is still more—of course there has to be more because there always is—, my mom said "Cris" which is short for "Cristian". And that's my dad's name... What a fucked up situation this is.

God, my dad was there... how did this happen? Or is it another Cristian? I doubt it, I'm sure that's my dad. But... God, I don't know. There has to be a logical explanation for all this, but I can't think of one. The only thing I can think of is the bracelet I found in my mom's bedroom and she coming back home later than usual. But no, I can't think of any connection between those situations. Nope, nothing—I have nothing.

I laugh at the situation because I honestly don't know what else to do or think. Everything that happened during the day left me speechless. I can't even cry, scream, or anything. I am in shock, completely in shock. And, if I had millions of questions going around in my head and I thought I was living in uncertainty before, now I have lost count of these and I am not living in uncertainty, I am falling down a black hole. Yes, I feel like I am falling down a dark and creepy black hole that seems endless and has no final destination. At least for now.

I get up from the curb, wipe the dirt off my ass with my hands and start walking, directionless. And suddenly I remember what happened exactly yesterday—although, of course, it seems like ages ago—, when I was in this same situation, walking the streets without knowing where to go, which was when I found the bookstore where I think Casy's aunt works. However, now my life is worse than yesterday because yesterday I was oblivious of what would happen twenty-four hours later.

These are indeed hectic days.

So, I'm walking, and soon I dare to close my eyes. I don't care about people thinking I'm crazy or bumping into someone. I just close them and keep walking, slowly, inhaling the humid and warm air, kicking the thoughts that torment me to the back of my mind so that my mind clears for a while and forgets everything that happened in the last few hours.

Suddenly, I'm not in San Pedro, I'm not in this town—I'm in New York, my favorite city in the whole world. I'm there, in Manhattan, in an expensive and luxurious building that I will never be able to afford, but that I long to have. I'm with a Starbucks chai latte in my hand and my cell phone in the other. I'm dressed in a gray tube skirt and matching blazer, with a white shirt underneath. Classic and elegant. I'm not good at fashion, but I figured that living in New York, I would learn to dress well and get to like fashion. After all, it is one of the fashion capitals, isn't it?

I open my eyes for a moment, surprised that I haven't bumped into anyone and haven't been hit by any cars. I don't want to tempt fate so I decide to sit on a bench. These days I've grown fond of these benches, it seems. I think as I sit down crossed-legged.

I close my eyes again and my New York fantasy reappears in my mind. There I am, just as I saw myself minutes before, wearing heels that stylize my legs and a Gucci bag that I bought with my millionaire salary that I will never have, of course. Things like that are only possible in my dreams.

And there I am, walking through the crowded streets, with the traffic that characterizes that city and the background sounds of horns, people talking, shouting, street vendors, and everything you can imagine.

I still remember the day I told my mom that when I grew up I would live in New York. I was 6 years old then. She laughed, patted me on the back and just told me 'no harm in dreaming, right?', then she left for work. I stood there, watching her as she walked away, with a sad expression. I expected my mom to tell me something else, but no, that was it.

Then I told my dad about my dream, and he was surprised. He didn't expect a reserved, lonely, quiet girl like me to choose a city full of people, with different cultures and a hectic pace. And, truth be told, I was surprised too. But, the reality is that I am not lonely and reserved by choice. I am this way because of everything I went through in school. I am this way because of the laughter, the mistreatment, the teasing, and everything I had to go through. I could never be the real Hannah with my classmates, never. I would hide, I would go to a corner to read in peace, I would close myself off and not allow myself to meet new people because I knew what was going to happen next. I knew I was going to be disappointed. That's how I began to create an armor for myself bit by bit, and that's why my parents thought I was solitary, closed, quiet and calm. However, the reality is different, and that is that I was never myself with anyone. No one knows me well either, and even I don't know myself sometimes. Honestly, I was hoping that all this would change when I changed schools, but it's already Wednesday and the situation is only getting worse. I have no friends and more problems than before. Great.

The thing is, it was surprising that I chose New York and named it 'my favorite city', but the truth is that it gave me hope. It gave me the hope I didn't have—well, I don't have it now either.

It made me think that, maybe, in the future, I can start all over again. Start a life from scratch. A happier life, surrounded by new people, good friends, a good job, parties. Surrounded by everything I could never have and that I long for so much.

I remember reading articles about New York. Articles that said it was 'the capital of the world' and 'the best place to start a new life'. I would even look at pictures of the different multicultural neighborhoods, like Chinatown and Little Italy.

I would also see pictures of people walking down the street, wearing whatever clothes they want, doing whatever they want, and no one criticizing them, as it should be. That was the exact moment when I knew it was my city, the city I wanted to live in when I grew up—when I saw that there was something for every taste and that you could be yourself. No restrictions, no one to criticize you, just you.

Thinking about that city completely distracts me from my present. At least for a few minutes, because when I see Leo walking across the street my heart stops and with it, the rest of my body. Fear grips me and flashes of what happened hours ago in the school bathroom reappear in my mind.

God, he was the last person I needed to see right now, but luckily he doesn't seem to notice me. Of course, that is until he looks in my direction and we both make eye contact.

For fucking fuck's sake.