Free Crazy by Benjamin Lebert

time? After your first time you’re a man? Now you’re really standing on your own feet? Farewell to sweet youth? Now you’re a grown-up? My first time’s over now, and I still feel small enough to piss in my pants. Which is okay too. I don’t want to become a grown-up; I want to remain a perfectly normal kid. Have fun. Hide behind my parents when I have to. And all that’s over now? Just because I put my cock in Marie’s hot little hole? But nobody saw. And I’m not going to tell anyone.
    The good Lord should cut me some slack. We can behave as if nothing happened. The whole thing is beginning to get too complicated for me. Why do I ever have to grow up? Or to put it another way, what moron ever came up with this idea in the first place? Why don’t we all just stay small boys? Who want to have fun? Screw, laugh, be happy. I pace around the anteroom. I’m upset. As if a dream has died or something. As if something is over. I’m still shaking. My skin’s gone white. I feel alone. In the whole damn wide world. In this shitty boarding school. And it would have to be called Neuseelen— “New Souls.” My soul is new, all right. That’s for sure. My shitty soul. I miss home. My parents. Why do they fight? Where’s my sister? And why the hell am I turning so aggressive? I’ve just screwed a girl, goddamnit. One who was drunk. With big tits and a hot cunt. And who apparently didn’t even notice. Stroke of luck, huh? I splash some water on my face. Then I go to take a piss. I’ve been needing a piss for a long time. I think I may have wet my pants a little already. I’m still wearing this disgusting condom. It’s hanging down slack. My cock’s not hard enough anymore. I chuck it on the floor. It can be their problem tomorrow, if the cleaning woman finds it. If whoever finds it. I step to the edge of the toilet. Lift the seat. Piss. Piss off to the side as well. I don’t care. For a moment I even piss deliberately against the wall. The way they always do in Tarts’ Alley. It’s great. It all runs over the floor. Almost a flood. I get a real laugh out of it. Then I go down on my knees. Throw up. And keep throwing up.
    Today was a bit too much for me: instead of a night in bed, climbing a fire escape, drinking everything in sight, screwing around a little, and growing up along the way. Enough for one night. Enough to make anyone puke. I stand up and stagger out into the anteroom. There are a couple of stains on my pajama top. So what. The yellow condom’s lying on the tile floor. The white stuff’s collecting in the tip. You can see it clearly. Someone’s going to get a kick out of that tomorrow. Maybe Malen. Maybe one of the tutors. I go out into the girls’ corridor. Look at all the pictures on the wall. Look at Malen’s picture and the pictures of the others. Listen to the sound of my footsteps. I’m on my own. Nobody’s giving me a hand. I stand outside room 330. Malen’s room. A normal door made of gray plywood, with a normal brass handle. I push it down.

Chapter 7
    How do you describe life in boarding school? As difficult? Boring? Demanding? Lonely would be another. I feel lonely. Even though I’m with the others all day long. Let’s take a perfectly ordinary day: I wake up at six-thirty. Landorf, the teacher in charge, is standing in the doorway.
    “It’s time,” he says.
    Slowly I raise my head. Look over at Janosch. All I can see is his mess of hair. We still have another half hour. Janosch chooses to use his for sleep. He never washes in the morning. I get up. Take my shaving kit. Shuffle down Tarts’ Alley. Breakfast at seven-fifteen. Rolls, Nutella, yogurt. Classes begin at seven forty-five. First comes learning. You just sit there for half an hour and learn. They call it Silentium. Only in boarding school. Usually you hold up a book in front of you and nod off. Sometimes it falls over. Embarrassing. Then classes start. Six hours a day, Saturdays included. A long break after the second,