Hi guys! Oh my god I got a lot of clerks and everyone was bursting with praise! * Ganzrotwerd * You can't imagine how happy I was! * still I am *

@ Fortune: Oh oh, I guess I got something wrong. I'm really sorry if I confused you! * Can you step mirinar * Only the last two paragraphs were a dream, the rest of God is all too real! By the way, I haven't remembered any of my dreams for a long time, I guess I've lost the key to my soul! * gg *

@Cat_Babe: 1. your clerks are by no means pointless, after all they make me so happy and 2. you can write very well, better said you have really totally cool ideas only when it comes to implementation haperts a bit and besides you can you draw really cool and I can't do that at all! And 3. I really love you very much!

@ Maron01: Your clerks are absolutely amazing!Thank you, thank you, thank you for this HUGE praise !!! * Ganzfestknuddl * I'm always so happy when I get a pick-up, I always freak out and would love to hug the whole world! And if it's as dear as yours, everyone has to hide so that they don't get cuddled to death! But shouldn't prevent you from continuing to write clerks to me! And spelling mistakes are really not an issue for you!

@Kira_w: Thanks for this huge praise! My stories only live through the feelings my characters have. The rest is unfortunately never very good, maybe because I'm pretty haphazard about how the plot should go on. At the moment I'm just raising new questions and not providing any answers. I'm sorry!

@Alice: Hello, nice that you drop by and then you even like my ff! * happy *

And last but not least, bussibär: Thanks for your clerks! There aren't many thoughts in that part, but a bissal a plot, I hope you can read it to some extent.I would like to dedicate this part to you, because you signed up especially because of me to support me with my picking addiction and that means a lot to me! * I really love you *

so I've now filled a whole page with all my thanks, I'm really sorry! Now the ff comes first otherwise it never ends!



The relief is short-lived. It lasts exactly as long as it takes me to realize where this pain is coming from. Confused, I look at the back of my right hand. A long needle is in it, or rather a cannula. And then I notice the hand. My gaze slowly glides upwards and finally I see Rolf's face. A wolfish grin plays around his lips. I want to free my hand from its grip, but I still have no strength. Sleep did not bring me any recovery, it only weakened me even more. I want to say something, but I can only manage a hoarse croak.My throat is as dry as dust like I've just swallowed sand, and my tongue feels like a foreign body in my mouth. I try to impale Rolf with my eyes, but he doesn't pay any attention to me, turns around and leaves.

I want to sit up, but I just don't want to succeed. I only manage to push myself up into a semi-sitting position before stopping, exhausted. My heart is racing and my arms are shaking uncontrollably. I feel so detached, every new movement takes more strength than the previous one.



Only now do I get around to taking a closer look. This room resembles the room I have been in to the smallest detail, except for the tray on the floor. I look at it in amazement for a few seconds. Eat! And water! I can hardly believe my luck. I blink a few times just to make sure I'm not just imagining this, but it stays that way. The tray is still there.

My spirits awaken to new life, a renewed rise of my will against the weakness of my body. Filled with new strength, I quickly crawl towards the tray, close a plastic cup with my shaky fingers and start drinking. The cool water runs wonderfully wet down my parched throat, but it cannot quench my thirst. I drop the mug carelessly on the floor and reach for a sandwich. At first hesitantly, then faster and faster I stuff the food into myself. It's like I'm half starved. I ate everything way too quickly.



And then it comes as it had to come. My stomach cannot cope with this unexpected amount of food, and I vomit whatever I just so hastily crammed into myself. My stomach spasms until I just spit out more bile. How much stupidity can you expect from a single person? How can I be so stupid as to cram everything into myself straight away, even though I haven't eaten for a few days.Nowadays every child knows that you have to vomit everything again. This mixture of bread and butter, bile and stomach acid stinks badly and if I hadn't choked everything out already, I would have thrown up again just because of this stench. Disgusted, I turn to the side and wait.

What am I waiting for? I think I'm waiting for something to happen. No matter what, something should just happen to which I can then react accordingly. Not that I'm in a position to do anything right now, but this helplessness, this uncertainty is driving me crazy.



I don't have to wait long. The door opens and comes in, what a surprise: Rolf. He closes the door, turns around again, wants to walk towards me, pauses and grimaces in disgust. He bypasses the vomit in a wide arc and stops in front of me. I look straight into his cold, steel-blue eyes.I'm trying to read something in them. Anger, disgust, anything, but I don't see anything. It's like looking into a deep hole. Suddenly I get scared. This empty look scares me so much that I can hardly think clearly. And then I do see something, only for a moment, but it's enough, I see that he is delighted with my fear. Relief flows through me. So he has feelings too, he's just hiding them. And as if he had recognized that I had guessed something of his true nature, he almost hastily averted his gaze.

He grabs me and pulls me after him with no problem. We go up stairs and through long corridors again until we stop at the end of a corridor. Rolf pushes me roughly in front of him and actually I am only held by his hands. I feel so weak that I couldn't even stand on my feet if he didn't hold onto me. I stumble into the room and Rolf pushes me to a swivel armchair.I sit down and look around carefully. The room is circular and paneled. The first tentative rays of sun penetrate the room through the window. I can feel the warm rays on my skin. I'm sitting in front of a massive desk. The files and folders are stacked on top of it. There are long numbers on the files in an ornate font.



Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. The swivel chair is turned around and I look into the face of a young man. He smiles at me and there is an incredible warmth in his smile, but when I look into his green eyes, there is nothing of this warmth to be noticed. Disappointed, I break eye contact and turn my gaze to the floor. This person doesn't mean it honestly to me either. His smile says something different, but his eyes give him away. His hand comes off my shoulder, he walks around the table and sits across from me. I turn to him, but no longer look him in the eye.The smile is still there. “Hello, my name is Jamie Anderson!” He holds out his hand in greeting. I look at her confused for a few seconds, only then do I have the thought that I should actually take it, but then he hastily pulled it back again. “Well, not exactly a successful start.” He smiles mischievously at me. "Of course it would be nice if you could tell me your name as well."



He looks at me expectantly. Silence spreads in the room. I look him in the face again. He's young, not 25. Has dark, slightly longer hair and an incredible smile, but the eyes speak a different language. This man is not as friendly as he looks. This man is up to something, I just don't know what yet. But I have to show myself a little more communicative, if only for that reason, so that I can get something to eat. My dry lips are difficult to separate from each other.I open my mouth slightly and hope my voice won't fail. I whisper quietly: “Leonie.” “Leonie, and next?” He waits for an answer, but I don't say anything more. “Well, your name is Leonie. How old are you Leonie?” I nervously pluck the skin from my lips with my teeth. “I'm thirsty.” “Oh, how inattentive of me. Rolf, will you get a glass of water, please. Well, back to my question, then?” “Seventeen.” “Only seventeen? You look older.” He notes something on a sheet of paper.



The door opens again, this time it is accompanied by a loud squeak. Rolf sets the glass down on the table top with such force that some water spills over. "Rolf better watch out! Now you've wet the files." He quickly pulls the files closer to him and dabs away the water stains with a handkerchief. "What else is there? You can go Rolf!" An unwilling snort can be heard and shortly afterwards the door slams shut.The person opposite shakes his head slightly. He then says more to himself: “What went wrong with that?” Then he apparently realizes that he has just spoken this thought out loud and he smiles at me apologetically.

First I reach for the water glass and begin to drink carefully. My whole body screams that I should just pour the water into myself, but I suppress this urge and now put the half-full glass back on the table. I nervously run my tongue over my bitten lips. I just don't know what to think of this guy. He looks so friendly and has such a nice smile, but I can see something different in his eyes. Maybe I'm too cautious or just imagining it, but I still have the feeling that this guy is just pretending to be me.



“What do you actually want from me?” He looks at me in amazement.“I want to talk to you.” “About what?” “About what you've done, but most of all about the 'why'!” “And if I don't want to talk? What do you want to do then? Do you want me back in lock this room? What if I don't know why I did it? What are you doing