Fuck this shitty school... You're going home...

School...

This word brings back a multitude of unpleasant memories for you.

And "unpleasant" is a rather mild adjective, considering the bullying you endured for many years as a child.

That's why you never liked going to school. And, frankly, even putting aside your problems with your classmates, you never demonstrated any enthusiasm for studying in any subject.

Your grades were mediocre.

And skipping school was a regular occurrence for you.

So, with relief, you turn away from this large, three-story gray brick building and walk away.

Your steps follow a familiar route...

You walk among the suspiciously uninhabited streets of a small provincial town. The maple trees in the alleys quietly rustle their leaves in a gentle breeze...

It feels as if a translucent fog, barely perceptible to the eye, is enveloping the area.

Feeling a vague sense of unease, you continue walking toward the house where you lived your entire childhood.

Finally, you reach the northern edge of town: next to a beautiful wooded park area, you approach a two-story house with a dark burgundy tiled roof.

With an inexplicable thrill, you grab the doorknob and step inside...

And right at the threshold of the house, you almost come face to face with your auntie, Martha!

She's standing in the hallway, dressed in an elegant gray coat and holding a black handbag, clearly getting ready to go somewhere.

A short woman of about 40.

A small, graceful nose...

Pale skin...

Chestnut-colored hair styled into a neat bob.

A cool gleam in her gray eyes, reminiscent of the gleam of steel.

She doesn't seem at all surprised by your appearance...

There's a look of dismissive contempt in her eyes.

"So, so... Skipping school again, Billy? You're so predictable... Don't even think your laziness will go unpunished!" - her stern voice rings with a peremptory inevitability.

"But, auntie..." - you mumble, embarrassed, nervously fiddling with the straps of your school backpack.

"I'm going to go shopping now. And you'll clean the rooms in the house. All the rooms. The carpets need vacuuming. And also - you have to wash all the dishes. And you have to do the laundry. And don't forget to feed cutie Duke! Yes, yes! Don't look so innocent! It's your own fault! You'll be doing housework most of today, Billy! And I don't advise you to shirk, unless you want to make me really angry…" - she says.

She gracefully walks out of the house, not even deigning to look at you.

The situation is such that there's no question of listening to your excuses or objections…

The sound of a key locking the door…

So now you're alone at home.

With a sigh, you take off your backpack and throw it on the floor.

Taking off your shoes and putting on house slippers, you inspect your clothes with a mixture of familiarity and surprise: the school uniform looks so natural on your body.

You change into casual clothes: a blue t-shirt (with an image SpongeBob) and gray shorts.

Your mind wanders to the many tasks auntie Martha has given you.

It's all so tedious...

You really don't want to do all this...

"Eh... Maybe I should play something cool on my PlayStation for a while?" - you think.

You're distracted from such thoughts by a sudden, loud noise.

As if something had fallen to the floor and shattered...

You quickly walk into the kitchen and see the shards of a couple of broken plates scattered across the floor - and an impudent male cat with gray fur and an arrogant, light-orange gaze sauntering across the dining table.

Duke.

That's the name of your auntie's beloved pet.

"What the fuck?! Now I have to clean up this fucking mess?!" - you say emotionally.

The cat bares its fangs and hisses at you.

There's a hint of mockery in the sound.

Then, with lightning speed, the cat leaps from the table to the floor and runs into the next room, landing on the nightstand and settling on a pile of clothes.

Since the door to that room is ajar, the cat's cunning eyes continue to watch you.

The look makes you a little uneasy...

You try not to look at the cat...

You look at the broken plates scattered on the floor and the multitude of dirty, unwashed dishes cluttering the kitchen sink.

So, what will you do?

Will you follow auntie Martha's orders and do the tedious and time-consuming housework?

Or would you rather do what you want and ignore the nagging tasks?