In the classroom, silence reigned like a heavy cloud. The students diligently focused on their tests, pencils scratching across paper. Alexei Morozov sat quietly, trying to concentrate despite the buzzing whispers around him. Near the blackboard, Irina Sergeyevna, the strict teacher, paced slowly back and forth, her eyes carefully watching every student’s progress. Suddenly, a knock at the door drew her attention. She left the room briefly to answer.

“Hey, Morozov! So, did the bums pitch in for your prom tuxedo?” sneered Genka Rodkin from the front row, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.

The classroom exploded with spiteful laughter.

“Wait, our Morozov couldn’t find the right size!” Lena Timokhina added with a giggle. The mocking chorus grew louder. Alexei slumped in his seat, feeling small and invisible amidst the cruel jokes. What could he say to so many? He felt empty inside, wanting nothing more than to escape, but he dared not. Irina Sergeyevna would surely write a harsh note in his diary, and at home… his mother, Natalia, wouldn’t hold back. He remembered the thick belt she sometimes used when angry. So he endured the taunts, telling himself it would all soon be over. The holidays were close, and he would leave this place behind. That hope kept him writing, his pen moving steadily across the paper. Luckily, he was good at schoolwork—without that, the other kids would have torn him apart. Nobody liked a failure.

Soon Irina Sergeyevna returned, and silence fell again. The students feared her strict discipline. She was known for calling parents to the principal’s office, lowering grades arbitrarily, and treating students with harsh judgment. None wanted to be on her “blacklist” of troublemakers.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the test. Alexei handed in his notebook and slung his battered backpack over his shoulder, leaving the classroom quietly at the back, trying to avoid attention. He dreaded crossing paths with Rodkin or his gang, who always targeted weaker students.

As he neared home, Alexei’s legs grew shaky. Another unpleasant scene awaited him. Sometimes, he dreamed of running away to the farthest corners of the earth. His mother was likely drunk again, which happened far too often. Endless parties with strange men filled their small apartment. Natalia snapped at Alexei, especially when she had been drinking. He feared the belt and the shame that came with his mother’s wild lifestyle. He never told anyone—he feared being mocked or worse, sent away to an orphanage. But adulthood was close; soon he’d be free. He dreamed of finding a job, living independently, far from this pain.

If only he didn’t wear those ragged clothes, maybe no one would mock him. He had learned to wash them himself, as Natalia never cared. Their home was always a mess—filthy and chaotic. Natalia wore a threadbare robe, her eyes swollen and red. Deep wrinkles betrayed years of neglect and sorrow.

Neighbors often shook their heads upon seeing Natalia. “Hopeless,” they whispered.

Alexei pushed open the front door, immediately smelling the heavy scent of alcohol and burnt food. Voices echoed from the kitchen—men’s laughter and women’s cries mixed together. Once again, his mother had brought home a stranger and was drinking. She paid no attention to him. And soon was the prom—Alexei wanted to look decent, but had nothing suitable to wear. No festive clothes, barely enough to eat. His mother’s boyfriends consumed whatever food was left.

He dropped his bag in his room and slipped outside. In the garden, green strawberries ripened quietly. Hunger gnawed at him, but the bitter taste didn’t matter.

“Hungry, dear?” a kind voice came from over the fence. It was Grandma Anna, their elderly neighbor.

“Hello,” Alexei greeted awkwardly.

“Come in, I’ll feed you,” she offered warmly. “Don’t be shy. I made pancakes with jam and sour cream. You’ll waste away if you keep eating green strawberries—they’ll only upset your stomach.”

Alexei followed her hesitantly, too hungry to refuse.

“I’d hang your mother by the ears!” Grandma Anna muttered as she set a bowl of browned pancakes before him. “The poor boy starves at school, and she brings home every drunk suitor she can find. She drinks all your benefits away!”

Alexei stayed silent, ashamed of his mother’s recklessness.

“Are you full now?” she asked gently after he finished the last pancake. He nodded gratefully.

“Thank you so much,” he said sincerely.

“You’re welcome, dear. Glad to help. I hope it holds you till evening. If you need anything, come over. I’ll cook borscht—we’ll have dinner together,” she smiled kindly.

Alexei returned home sleepy and decided to take a short nap.

Years ago, he remembered a day at the amusement park with his parents—so joyful and carefree. Ten-year-old Alexei had held colorful balloons in one hand and devoured a cream and chocolate ice cream with the other. His mother laughed brightly, pointing somewhere distant, and his father smiled warmly. That memory lingered in Alexei’s heart—a beacon amid the darkness.

But tragedy struck on their way home. “Dad, did you forget your seatbelt?” young Alexei asked.

“It’s just a short drive,” his father had answered.

A sudden collision with a truck shattered their lives. His father died instantly, leaving Alexei and Natalia alone. Natalia grieved deeply, and to dull the pain, she began drinking. At first, she managed to work and care for Alexei, but soon the sorrow consumed her. She stopped caring about life, dragging Alexei down with her.

Alexei’s nightmares sometimes echoed with drunken shouts from the next room. But he remembered his homework and studied late into the night. School was his refuge. Summer days beckoned with football games outside. Sometimes, he played with the neighborhood boys, craving normalcy.

After finishing his lessons, Alexei quietly sneaked out for a walk, careful not to draw attention lest he be sent to buy more vodka for his mother’s latest drinking friend.

His walks often ended at Grandma Anna’s house, where he helped in the garden or around the home. She treated him like a grandson, always ready to feed and comfort him. Once, she had almost contacted social services but reconsidered—Alexei’s time at home was almost over, and she hoped to help him find a better future.

One day, Grandma Anna surprised Alexei with news:

“There’s a car wash nearby. I know the owner. I told him about you—you should work there and earn some money. Graduation’s soon, and you don’t have any clothes.”

Alexei was thrilled. Jobs were scarce in their small town.

The next day after school, he started washing cars. He worked hard, and clients appreciated his effort, sometimes leaving tips. For the first time, Alexei felt he could afford something beyond hunger—maybe even repay Grandma Anna’s kindness.

But home was still difficult. Natalia and her boyfriend took the groceries Alexei bought. He dared not protest, fearing bruises.

Grandma Anna scolded Natalia for taking everything, promising Alexei she’d keep his food safe from then on.

Alexei cried quietly, pouring out his pain to the one person who cared.

---

Graduation day arrived. Alexei had earned enough for a decent suit, thanks to Eduard, the kind man who ran the car wash and once knew Alexei’s father.

At the ceremony, classmates mocked him loudly. “Where’s our Alain Delon?” sneered Genka. “Morozov’s still picking out some ragged suit!”

But then, Alexei appeared—stepping out of a shiny blue suit, his hair styled neatly. Even Irina Sergeyevna gasped, impressed by his transformation.

Svetlana, a girl Alexei had admired for years, approached shyly. He took her arm. Together, they danced the beautiful school waltz, the envy of the room.

Afterward, Alexei walked Svetlana home and finally confessed his feelings. She smiled, having waited for his words.

That evening, Alexei returned home to find something he hadn’t seen in a long time—a clean house, fragrant food, and his mother, Natalia, apologizing sincerely.

“I’m sorry, son. I want to make things right.”

Alexei hugged her tightly, grateful beyond words.

Natalia gave up drinking, found a job, and learned to care for her son. The house filled with warmth and hope.

Years later, Alexei worked at Eduard’s company, studying to build a better future. He married Svetlana, and they had a daughter, Masha.

Grandma Anna lived with them, her kind spirit a steady presence until the end.

Alexei often thought how far he had come—from the lonely boy who suffered mockery and hardship, to a man with love, hope, and a bright future.