Trembling door handle.

Suni opens his eyes.

Sits on the bed.

Paralyzed. Doesn't know what to do.

The handle keeps shaking.

Thankfully, Suni always closes his door. Always.

Whoever there is - they won't enter. He hopes. 

It keeps going. Loud. Angry.

Until it stops. Just like that.

A moment of silence.

Suddenly - starts again, with more noise. Almost ready to tear the handle out.

Suni catches his breath. Fear doesn't let go, it clasps him in its arms.

"Stop," he whispers, seemingly trying to materialize his wish into existence.

And it does. It does stop. But for how long? Long enough for Suni to regain control.

The sudden fear doesn't make him awake, on the contrary - the intense feeling pulled all energy from his body, making him exhausted. Extremely so.

And while his body wants to fall back asleep, his mind is fighting it - worrying. The latter doesn't win, no matter how hard Suni tries. The exhaustion is just too formidable.

A few hours later, the table clock rings the alarm. Time to prepare for college.

With reluctance, Suni pushes himself to wake up.

Looks at the door. Calm. The door handle, obviously, isn't moving.

Was it a dream? Reality? He isn't sure what happened back then - just a few hours ago.

"Should've taken the pill," he sighs. He is convinced that they let him sleep better, but at the moment - he preserves them.

Only three left.

And there is probably no way to get the medication in this backwater.

"Are you getting ready?" the mother shouts through the door.

"Yeah," he replies while collecting his uniform.

It's different from the one he wore in the city's private college. Private organisations are rare these days, the one in this province belongs to the Central Decree. Thus, the fabric is cheaper. The badge is battered.

Says on the badge: College of humanitarian studies № 34.

There are only those left - humanitarian, every other sphere of study is limited. A lot of them got closed. They say, those studies were dangerous for the populace. That's why - desist from the practice of everything, involving science, especially medical. Even such things as studies of engineering are under restrictions.

Dangerous.

Suni figures, it's all going to be the same. Same topics, same books, same articles - which he got tired of.

And his statement isn't wrong.

"So, your ideas: why did our planet decide to be an isolationist state?" the teacher at the new college asks the class. Suni swears, he has heard this question many times.

"I know," someone raises from the seat. "To preserve our habitat. To not let the influence of the Bloc to destroy it."

"Right. But is there more?"

"Yes," another pupil raises their voice. "So it would suck to be us. To be the loser above all. The chosen one."

One could say, such answer is brave. Another, that it is reckless. Done out of courage, or for the reason to anger the teacher - isn't known.

The teacher pinches her eyes. Such unbelievable heresy. In a public place.

"Huh. In the cities, you would get your tongue cut out for this," she searches for someone in the auditorium. "Right, Suni? He is from there, he knows."

"Right," he nonchalantly answers. Truth or not, he doesn't have the energy to argue.

In fact, he doesn't pay much attention. Fixated on his thoughts and worries, as usual. And there is also - the neighbor's kid, the childhood friend, the freezing lake adventurer - tries to guess Suni's mood by throwing quick glances.

Without success, yet.