A rainy night, fog in the sky, and a strong thunder strike. My reflection in the mirror looked disgusting, my hair wet and messy, and my clothes stained with blood. My hands were shaking, so I rushed to the sink to wash them quickly and with disgust. That's the feeling of escaping from everything. But then a moment comes that brings everything back. I arranged my appearance as much as I could, took a deep breath, and returned to my happy, indifferent face, another mask I wore today to stand as much as possible.
I came out of the bathroom, and James's frowning face greeted me. He was reprimanding me with his gaze, a look of reproach directed at me and a questioning look towards the young man lying on the couch with his eyes closed. I sighed slowly, took out my phone, and wrote a journal explaining the situation. Thank God I'm mute. I finished and directed the screen at him to read.
I left him with my phone trying to understand, and I bent towards the young man. His body was exhausted, like a victim, an abandoned cat on the street. I raised my fingers to his face to touch his blue bruises. A terrible thought was in my mind: What if this young man is a member of a gang? Or a drug dealer? When he wakes up, how will I deal with it? I told James that he needed medicine and antiseptic for the wounds, so he went out to get those things, and it wasn't hard to convince him to leave me alone with him, but he eventually left.
I took a large pair of scissors and ripped his shirt, and took a cloth wet with lukewarm water to wipe the blood slowly flowing, careful not to cause any further damage. I cleaned most of his wounds, leaving a bruise on the right side of his neck. I wet the cloth well, and bent my upper body until I was very close, as if we were embracing. I touched that bruise with my fingers, and what surprised me more was the existence of a tattoo behind his neck, extending to the side of his neck, looking very carved and mixed with his blood. I started cleaning the dried blood, but at some point, I lost my balance and almost fell into the bowl containing hot water, but his hand pulled me strongly to his injured chest. Those lightning bolts that hit the sky also hit me at that moment. Blood was pumped quickly, and my head was filled with a whirlwind of thoughts, and I was no longer able to think properly. Danger signals.
"Please, move away!" This desperate request was only inside me. I felt those hands squeezing my body more, as if those wounds didn't hurt at all. I tried to lift my body off him, but I became more stuck. His breath was blowing on my cold neck. I didn't have a voice to scream at him to move away, so I tapped on his arm to let me go, but he said with exhaustion, "Can you sit for a few seconds? Let me keep your scent."
With stormy emotions and a miserable face, I didn't want to obey him. His words were very suspicious, to the point of filling my heart with tons of doubt and fear. I struggled with him to leave, and with great effort, I freed myself from him to fall to the ground looking at him. He smiled at me and said,
"Stubborn and brave, your eyes are enough to convey your feelings without speaking."
My hands slid to my phone, and I wrote him lines of insults and phrases I had learned throughout my life. The thing I hate the most is when someone touches me. I turned my phone to him, letting him read while a smile of victory was on my face. He looked at me and snatched the phone from my hand, quickly deleting those words, tapping on the screen, writing something, and then throwing the phone on the couch, synchronizing with James's entry with a pharmacy bag in his hand and an apartment key in the other. His coat was a bit wet with rain, he walked towards me, handed me the bag, and asked,
"Why are you sitting on the ground? Adjust your sitting, the weather is cold tonight."
I adjusted my sitting and moved away from that young man, took my phone, opened the medicine, and put the antiseptic on a small round cotton. I looked at him, then gestured to James to help me, and we secured that creature well on the couch while he looked at me. I disinfected his wounds, and he didn't make a sound or flinch, just empty eyes and ordinary features fixed in place indifferently, as if it was a routine and normal thing. I wondered what this young man's story was.
I won't lie if I say I'm not curious about him, I'm actually burning to know his story and why those men beat him without defense. A person like him wouldn't let them get away with it without a fight.
I finished taking care of his wounds and went to wash my hands. It was really tiring. When I returned to the living room, I saw James talking to the stranger, saying, "I'll let you stay, you'll eat a light meal, and when the rain stops, you'll leave quietly." The stranger nodded in agreement, so James moved away from him and headed towards the kitchen. I wanted to help him with preparing the food, but I was stopped by the stranger's voice calling my name, "Emma... is that your name? Can we talk for a bit?"
It was a calm request with a soft tone and worn-out features. I decided to listen to him, and if I didn't like what he said, I could simply ignore him. I sat near him, keeping a safe distance between us. I don't like physical contact with people.
I gestured for him to start talking. He looked at me with dark, gloomy eyes that made me feel like a beast was lurking in them, like an illusion in the middle of a desert. But eyes are just eyes, and I shouldn't let my mind wander with such thoughts.
"I'm really grateful to you, you saved my life, and I want to give you this necklace as a symbol of my gratitude and appreciation for your effort," he said.
I blinked at him, feeling uneasy, like I'm a prey to this person. But wrong suspicions are just suspicions, right? I wrote a message on my phone's screen,
"I didn't do anything, it's just a human duty, so please keep the necklace."
He seemed annoyed by my statement, his eyes intensified, and he said,
"This isn't a request, it's a repayment I don't like being indebted to anyone."
I nodded and took the necklace from him, almost putting it in my pocket, but he snatched it from my hand again. For God's sake, man?
I looked at him in surprise as he approached me. I stepped back as a reflex, but my body started to feel warm, slowly, until the fire of hatred and disgust ignited at being touched by strangers. He put a necklace around my neck, adorning it with that simple and strange pendant, just a logo and a word in Greek with an unknown meaning. Why would he give it to me? It doesn't even look like a gift or a thank you.
After our dinner, the stranger left silently, and I returned to my house, leaving James alone. I didn't go back home, but to a temporary, lonely room drowned in silence. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, I was back, back to Rome, to this cursed land where I buried my dearest possession, where my soul was sold to destruction.
It was the first hellish day, and we were just starting. What future awaited me here? I curled up like a fetus, and my eyelids stuck together, hiding the light in darkness.
Blood! Blood! Blood! Fire! Fire! ...Don't kill him, please! Don't kill him. My hands were stained with crimson liquid, the smell of metal spread everywhere, my limbs trembling, fiery breath, feelings of rot and worms eating away at my heart. His body was lying in front of me, and the fire was consuming everything around me. I was in the middle of the fire with a corpse, screaming his name.
Come on, get up! Get up! ...Get up, you scoundrel, don't die. Get up from the dead. I shook his bloody and pale body. His eyes were lifeless, dark with blood. I screamed at him, reproaching him, my vocal cords lost from screaming so much. I don't want to live if you're not here. I'm the cause... I'm a killer. You're a killer, Emma Russo.
My body jumped out of bed in terror, like a wet rabbit in the rain. My throat was dry, and my body was shaking, cold sweat crawling on my limbs. Damn! The black nights had returned. I ran away from reality to find other nightmares waiting, although they were true, but they were bitter memories, heavy on my heart.
I crawled towards the window, and the dawn had just broken. I picked up clean clothes, put them on, combed my hair, and suddenly felt the necklace. I felt stormy emotions whenever I remembered his eyes, a mix of fear and cunning.