I looked at the paper with wet eyes. I had promised myself I wouldn't cry, but the world had to know the truth. The court had judged me for what I had done, but I was left with thoughts and questions that no one could answer. What is fairness in this society? Why do we punish the victims, but not those who should be punished? My writing became smaller and sloppier as I wrote it all down. I wouldn't accept that this was my fate. I refued to rot there because of his mistakes...

   I was young when my mother died, but the damage was done already then. My father; my guardian, my nightmare, had always been something one rather stayed away from. Yeah, maybe he had experienced somewhat the same when he was young, but that is no excuse. There are other ways to solve thing... We lived in a little appartment that was rather dilapidated, and money wasn't something we swam in... FortunatelyI had my own room, where my tears could fall freely and long, but there were times when not even that helped; lock or no...
   I can't really say when it started for real, but I think I was about six or seven years old. I had always keept my distance, I've always backed away from other people, and I've always hated adults. Or rather feared them... My mother died when I was ten, and my father was never sentenced for it. He decleared himself insane at the time it happened, and I was not in court to testify. I've never had real friends, or someone to stay with, so there wasn't any options, either. No aunts or uncles that lived in the neighborhood, and I've never met my grandparents.
   It was the day after my 20th birthday, and the people in my class had thrown a small party for me. I wasn't used to people caring, for I've seen that the neighbors simply walked passed... I sat home, in my room on the second floor, while I considered going or not. There weren't really anyone there who knew me at all, but there were a few I dared calling my friends. We were a total of 17 people in that class, at the art-study at Bergen Art-univesity, but there were only two I talked to. It is a wonder that I even made it that far... But they didn't know that. They only knew I had turned 20 the thursday before and that I wasn't planning on celebrating it. That made me smile slightly. They had fixed the place, made cake, bought presants, made sure there was alcohol and invited people, but I hated being around a large group of people, and I can't stand alcohol, of certain reasons. But it was worth it...
   It took them five minutes after I was supposed to be there before they called, and it was then I decided to go. I wasn't the one who answered the phone, and just that they had talked to my father was reason enough to get away from there. I didn't want to listen to his yelling anymore. "If you leave now, I won't let you in again!" he yelled after me, but I only pulled my coat tighter about me and waved an arm backwards before I pulled out the smoke and left.
   The smoke had at least been a way to calm a few nerves. It wasn't much to brag about, but it is some comfort. I didn't want to start drinking, because my father is— Sorry... was an alcoholic, and I refuse to sink to his level. It wasn't that far to walk, but the thoughts made it seem much longer. "You know that smoking kills, right?" an old woman called after me when I passed her.
   "Yeah," I replied. "Why do you think I bother?" There aren't many who bother replying to that. I don't smoke because I think it's cool, and I don't smoke because I can't stop. I smoke because after a while it was the only thing I had to make the time pass. I don't have access to what others have. But there aren't poor people in Norway...
   My long hair always blows with the wind, but I've stopped bothering putting it behind my ears. It's actually quite pointless... Here in this town it will only pass a few secongs before it blows back in my face again. I made a sharp turn and stared at the building's large blue letters. It was probably them who had fixed it; "Congratulations, Frost!"
   "Sure," I though. "Congratulations with another day in life, Frost. Maybe this day will be different." I lighted another sigarette before I went inside while I sighed deeply. Several times I turned, to join them inside, but just as many I turned to leave. The only reason I stayed was probably the fact that I had nowhere else to go.
   Mette was the first one who spotted me, and her eyes shone. "No, he's right here!" she yelled back to the others as she walked toward me. She pulled out a package of Marlboro from the pocket of her brown jacket, and she smiled. "This might be a stupid question, but... Do you have light?"
   I smiled while I shook my head. "You're good at stating the obvious, Mette," I said as I placed my hand in my left pocket. I pulled out an old iron lighter with a logo of Metallica I had found a long time ago, and held it in front of her. The little flame barely flickered in the wind, and her sigarette was lit. "Yeah, I've got amazing powers of observation." She smiled sarcastically, and I had to laugh. She was blond, but that was only on the outside. She was actually quite intelligent and good at school, but I was normally not among the ones she was with. But she was nice enough to talk to; she wasn't the one who avoided me only because I wore black clothes.
   I took a deep breath to hide that I was sighing. I had hoped I would stand there a while longer. Loneliness was something I was used to... But only a few seconds after Mette had lighted her smoke, Sol came running out the door. Sol was a shortning for Solfrid, but she had changed it in tenth grade. "Frost!" she said with a broad grin. "I was almost sure you wouldn't come."
   I smiled as I shook my head. "Well, I couldn't stand listening to my father's nagging."
   She frowned. "Are you smoking again?"
   "Yeah..." I hesitated, but threw it to the ground after a while, and stepped on it. She didn't like smoke, but she handled it pretty well. She barged at me in that moment, with both arms stretched out as if she was about to embrace an elephant. I am not very fond of body-contact either, but with her it was fine. She was always so careful, though it always looked like she was going to throw me to the ground. I caught her and hugged her carefullly while I was smiling. "She's a small girl," I thought as I lifted her. There had never been anything wrong with my nose, so the clear smell of alcohol hit me as a boxer would have hit his opponent. "And you've been drinking, I smell."
   "Well, only a little."
   I let her down, and looked at her. She could not stand still, it seemed, and she was hyper enough to last a lifetime. "Slightly tipsy, maybe?" I winked at her.
   She only blushed. She was the one I had best contact with. She was the only one I almost told everything to, and she knew well why I didn't like alcohol. I also knew well why she didn't like smoke. She, Narve and I were the core of the class, or so the teachers told us... We spoke no matter what, but it was usually only we that ever spoke to one another. It was a strange phenomenon, really. We had been in the same class all years, and I was almost sure we would stay in touch when we finished school. I had to get a few things straightened out first, though, before I even considered letting them close to me.
   Narve came as well, but he was slightly more reasonable than most of them. He smiled as he came over, but stopped a little away from us. He was allergic to too much smoke, something I seen proof to. We were an odd group, the three of us... "Your father didn't sound all that happy," he said from the doorframe.
   "He never does," I snarrled silently to myself. "But shall we go inside? I'm almost freezing here."
   Sol clinged to my waist as she used to, and I only waved at Mette as we walked passed her. "Don't you exaggerate now!" she called after us, but I could hear that she wasn't all that sober herself.
   The entire class and a few others were gathered in there, and I had to shake my head. I was almost stiken with anxiety by just looking at the crowd, but I would endure for a little while. It couldn't hurt me, after all. I remembered my mother had celebrated my birthday once, with chocolate-cake and layer cake, or layish, as it's called among most Bergen-people, but it had been som long since I last tasted it, that I almost didn't remember what chocolate-cake tasted like... There weren't many who invited me to parties, and the few who did, rarely had the pleasure of seeing me there. But I had my reasons... My father was never the one who wanted me to have a life... I sighed as I looked to the table at the end of the room. There were enough chocolate-cake to feed an entire people, and right next to it stood a table with both layer cake and some other kind of candy. They had really gone through a lot of trouble only to celebrate my brithday... But it was almost so that I felt like embracing the idiot who had arranged it all. I couldn't remember the last time I was that happy to see a crowd like this one.
   Sol smiled. "Some of the other girls and I made the chokolate-cake. I remembered you mentioned that you don't remember what it tastes like."
   I could only smile back at her, and rumpled her hair. "You little worm," I whispered.
   "I know." She winked at me.
   Narve simply walked beside us. "And I made sure there was layer cake. I expect you to taste it, at least, even though you say you don't like it."
   I started laughing loudly, something I rarely do. "Always an optimist, eh?" I laughed still. "Oh well, since the royal Narve comands it."
   The night didn't last long, and I ate more then than I had ever done before. There even was some punch there... It couldn't hurt with a little drink? So one became two, and two became many, but I wasn't drunk. I knew what I was doing... I just didn't know what I said. So when the party ended, I turned to my friends and looked at them. "Does one of you have a spare bed? I can't come back home in this condition."
   Sol seemed to lighten up, and I suddenly understood why she was called what she was called. She could be a sunbeam to anyone, if she wanted to. "My parents are away for the weekend, so you can both come to my place, if you like. I don't like being alone, anyway."
   "Sounds fine," I said. I didn't hesitate, and I could see it frightened them slightly.
   Narve looked surprised, but he nodded. "I wouldn't miss this if I had to."
   She smiled like she never had smiled before, and I had to join her. "Then it's settled. We can play Tekken, since we have the day off tomorrow."
   We both laughed, and started walking toward the bus-stop.
   It hadn't occurred to me until then... She had been one of my neighbors for quite some time, but she didn't live on the same side as my window, and she lived in one of the better houses. She wasn't rich, but she wasn't in my place, something she sould be very happy about. I knew what she had been through, but she didn't know what I had to deal with every day since I turned six. She had a similar background as I, only milder. Her parents were often traveling, and it wasn't always the one who looked after her had been as good at remembering to lock the doors. That was how she has watched her sister die, and that was how she had lost her virginity; because of a man that smoked. We shared storied on the way there, and I got to know things about them both that I had never been aware of. Narve was only five when his father shot himself, and his mother had been put to an insane asylum only a few days later. He had been transferred to his uncle to live there, but be had visited his mother at least once a week after that.
   I knew they expected me to do the same, and I would have kept it a secret if I had known where it would lead me, but the alcohol in the punsh made me talk more say I have done to anyone. "I was only six," I started, and I could feel the cold crawl up my back. We had long since come inside, and we sat in front of a fireplace in a room with 24 degrees, but I was cold... From the inside to the outside... "I don't know what made him do what he did, but it was around the death of my grandmother, or something, when he started coming to my room at night. He locked the door, and I remember how my tears fell. I screamed, but he wouldn't stop. With the window open and the curtains pulled aside... He didn't care if the neighbors saw him, for he knew none of them would do anything. I still remember the smell of alcohol when he pushed me to the table." I shrugged, and closed my eyes. I didn't want to fall apart. "Four years later he killed my mother when he was drunk, and though the evidence said something else, he was cleared. He got away from the hospitals because I couldn't be alone, and thus it continued. Every night, every day... It didn't even help to close the door, for the door turns inwards, and it's not really new." I looked down as a tear dared to fall from my cheek. The pain was far too strong, and I couldn't hide it from them anymore. I had been raped by my own father, and still I sit in my room to let my tears fall.
   They were both silent; Narve looking like he was about to throw up, and Sol's light had almost been dimmed entirely. "Just a moment," Narve said as he stood up. He looked at Sol. "Where's the toilet?"
   "Down the hall, the second door to the right."
   He nodded and walked as fast as he could in that direction.
   I sighed and turned away. There was a reason I hadn't told them sooner. I hadn't even hinted about my past since the first day I met them. I knew they wouldn't hande it, but still I had talked as if it was painful words I had to hurl out. "Maybe I should go."
   "No, stay." She put a hand on my thigh, and I looked surprised at her. She blushed as she removed it carefully. "S-sorry," she whispered. Her blue eyes flickered and her red hair looked like it lost its colour slowly, at the same time as the fire behind her.
   "There's nothing to be sorry for," I said silently. "I'm the one who should apologize. I knew that this was going to happen."
   "N-no. I mean—" She sighed. "You couldn't help it. I know all about that. It's not easy to keep things like this to yourself. It just destroies you on the inside. I am actually very grateful that my parents forced me to see a psychologist."
   I couldn't do anything but to be angry with myself. It would destroy the way they looked at me, and I would be alone once more.
   "But one thing you should know," she said carefully. "I don't want you to suffer anymore." She hesitated. "Maybe... Maybe I can ask my parents to let you stay here? We have more than enough space, and they don't really want to leave me here alone."
   I was speachless, and I simply looke at her with my mouth open. "I—"
   Narve came back, and sat down next to us again. "I would have killed him," he said as he sat down. "Nothing against you, but I can't see why you didn't just kill him."
   I looked down. "The thought has tempted me..."
   "Then just do it! The man has ruined your life, for fuck's sake! I don't know what I would have done in your place, so I can't say anything for sure, but I can promise you that I wouldn't ahve been as patient."
   "Hush, Narve. It might be fixed without violence."
   "No, this is something he needs to understand. The man is insane! He can't live under conditions like that!"
   "So he should live in jail?"
   "Still... There he wouldn't have to see the bastard's face."
   "It's not worth it."
   "If he can make it seem like self-defence, it is. Then he wouldn't have to serve the sentance. It's obvious that the police has no power over this satan's creature, and the world would be a better place without men like him." He turned toward me and his eyes were glowing of hate. "If you don't do anything, I will. They can't punish you for defending yourself. The man invaded your only private place, he killed your mother, and you haven't even met the rest of your family. That's not only mental terror; that's fysical terror! You say he won't stop. Then make him! You don't have to kill him; just frighten him. Maybe then he'll understand."
   "Oh no, not my father. Violence leads to voilence with him."
   "But then it'll be self-defence."
   I thought it over for a moment, and the thought of murder became tempting again. Narve did have a point... That person didn't deserve to live.
   "Don't listen to him, Frost," Sol said. "You can live here until my parents return, and we can discuss this then. I'm sure they'll understand."
   I thought it over for a moment, but I concluded that I didn't want to serve the sentence I would get. Sol was right; it wasn't worth it. "Fine," I said with a sigh, "I'll stay here until your parents return, but I want a few things from home, like a toothbrush and such. I've never spent the night away before, so I'll probably be very insecure."
   "You can probably have a toothbrush of us. We have many new ones." She smiled broadly. "Then you won't have to walk over there at all."
   Once more I smiled slightly. She was good at making me feel better. "I don't know... It's not that far to walk."
   "But it is unnecessary effort." She winked at me again.
   I hesitated. I really wanted to go home. Just to talk to him before I disappeared from there. "He is my father..." I thought out loud.
   Narve shook his head. "Even my father was a better parent than that creature you call dad. He's no father, I can assure you."
   "I just want to let him know—"
   "That you're never going to see him again? Do you really think he won't come looking for you? Then it's better to simply disappear."
   I hesitated again. "Yeah, but still... It's all I know. I can't just—"
   "Sure you can! You don't need to feel guilt!"
   I sighed. "I need some air." Without thinking I stood up and went toward the hall. I had promised I would stop smoking, but that wouldn't happen at first. I turned to look at them. "I'll be right back."
   I went down the hall, and I could hear Sol hit either Narve's foot or back. "You idiot," she said slightly louder than what seemed to be planned.
   Naturally I lit the smoke when I came outside, and I could see my house from the little hill. The school wasn't far, either. I sighed. He was right in many ways, and not even I could understand why I had held on as long as I had. It had been going on for fourteen years, and I had done nothing. "I'm just as bad as my neighbors," I thought, and I snarled. I just needed a little walk. I wouldn't go far.
   Maybe it was the punsh that did it, or maybe I acted on automatic behavior, but I ended up outside the door to my house, and I could hear that he was in a terrible mood in there. I closed my eyes. "Toothbrush, school-things and extra clothing. Toothbrush, school-things and extra clothing," I whispered to myself, and I threw the leftovers of sigarette number two to the ground. I took a deep breath. "You can do this. It's no big deal." I took one step and already I was shaking as if I was standing naked in the snow. He was, with no big element of surprise for me, drunk, and he had turned the living room inside out in frustration. "I thought I told you not to come back," he snarled.
   I simply grunted as I passed him. "Toothbrush, school-things and extra clothing," I thought to drown my anger.
   He walked after me, but I chose to ignore him. "Well?" he asked. "Did you come back because you long for it?"
   I grunted again and clenched my fist. "Toothbrush, school-things and extra clothing." My thoughts became louder, and I was afraid I'd snap if he didn't move.
   He grabbed my coat and turned me around, but I had the fist ready. With no warning my fist hit his face, and he fell backwards. I turned toward the stairs and ran faster than I had ever thought I was capable of, and I hoped he wouldn't come after me. "Toothbrush, school-things and extra clothing." I found a small bag after I had turned the lights on, and found the clothing I liked best, among with a pencilcase, two scetchbooks and a few paint-brushes. Then I ran down toward the bathroom, where I found the toothbrush I'd been using the last days, then to turn again.
   But he stood in front of me when I left the room and I didn't think at all when I ran toward the kitchen... He didn't need a lot of effort to grab me by my hair, and I fell backwards. I could see his hateful face when he picked up the kitchen-knife, and I did my best to get up. I acted quicker than I could think, for when I stood up, I hit his stomach hard with my head. He lost his balance and the knife. All I was to do, was run, for I didn't want to serve time for his mistakes. But he had other plans. With a sudden movement he reached my jeans, and I fell once more. I had heard him pick the knife again, and I looked around to find something I could defend myself with. Fortunately there was another knife on the floor, which I hadn't bothered to pick up after the breakfast the same day. I reached for it, for I couldn't stand up... He held my foot... And when he was about to put the knife to my back, I turned and placed my knife far into his head. I hit him in the eye... He roared in pain, and lost his knife once again. With no thought, I picked it up and ran toward him. One, two, three... It was the hatered that took over... Four, five, six... "Stop, Frost! He's dead now!" The blood streamed from him and down to the floor, and I only then realized what I had done. I dropped the knife and looked at my father's dead body. He had his eyes open, and I was sure he would not forget who had sent him to the place he was now.
   I looked toward the door and could barely spot a familiar shadow. "Sol!" I called as I stood up. "Come back!"
   She stopped in the doorframe. "I thought you were only going out... I got worried..."
   "It was self-defence. I was just getting my things..."
   Her eyes were blank as a newly washed glass. "I believe you.... I just—" She held her hands in front of her mouth, before she turned to throw up on the floor.
   Narve stood outside. "You need to call an ambulance."
   I looked around, as if in panic, for the phone, but I found out quickly that it was of no use to use our phone... He had reached it.
   The police and the ambulance arrived, and I was put to trail. There was no room for mercy for me. They said the evidence told them that I killed him in cold blood, and my hatered made me see it differently. The weeks went, the months arrived... And when they finally were done investigating, I again was placed before a judge. Sol and Narve was behind me. They wanted me away. "As a judge of this case, I find the defendant, Frost Jørgensen, guilty of murder, and I hereby sentence you to six years in prison." I fell apart and could not walk... The guards had to stop Sol from embracing me, and I had to be dragged from there as if I was a bag of important garbage.
   I got a one-man celle, but that helped very little. In six years I'll be 26, and I'll have lost all my chances of finishing my education. The world would look at me as the boy who killed his father in cold blood...
   I looked at the paper with wet eyes. I had promised myself I wouldn't cry, but the world had to know the truth. The court had judged me for what I had done, but I was left with thoughts and questions that no one could answer. What is fairness in this society? Why do we punish the victims, but not those who should be punished? My writing became smaller and sloppier as I wrote it all down. I wouldn't accept that this was my fate. I refued to rot there because of his mistakes... Maybe my story would change their thoughts of me... Maybe this story would justify my sentence...