Einen kleinen Ausschnitt gibt es für euch vorab.
She tries to make herself as small and invisible as possible on the hard chair, staring straight ahead with empty eyes. The first few chords of Metallica’s “Nothing else matters” come from the earphone slyly pushed into her right ear, with the volume turned low enough that only she can hear the music. She had meant to use the other ear to listen to her history teacher droning on about the effects of the First World War, but instead she hears that quiet and cruel voice once again in the overcrowded classroom – and not a word of what Mr. Atkins was saying. Her seat in the last row allows her to see her classmates look around at her inconspicuously – at least that’s what they think they are doing - only to turn back to each other and whisper. Although the music prevents her hearing every word of their quiet conversations, she can feel their mean glances burning into her. These hateful looks feel like a noose around her neck, tightening just enough to become uncomfortable and sometimes hard enough to make her gasp for air – but never enough to actually squeeze the life out of her.