The night was terrifying and silent. The void let the other emotions burst freely on the surface. It was the first time in months that a raindrop touched the earth without any hesitation. It fell abruptly from the eye and the second one followed. I was feeling the humidity in the air days now, but the heart of stone did not believe in giving in. The mind of the sinner refused to drown and fought hard to unravel the tangled thoughts. The meteorologists and my heart had predicted a thunderstorm. After the first raindrops, the others followed easily. It was hard to sham the pain as every thunder hit the bones of the thorax. The filmstrip seemed infinite. Myself and the tawny woman, both rubbed our forehead and covered our eyes. I could feel the skin under my nails hurting but the rain had to be stopped. I had created an ocean in which my sadness could reflect itself as if it had taken a human form; fine beauty, long curly hair, sparkling eyes. I wondered what is the source of that sparkle; radiating happiness, disturbing melancholy or painful regret?
The way he blinked was obsessing her. In a few hours he lost his boyishness. She was staring at him, waiting for the right words to come out of his mouth. His glance was empty and his soul had grown. He was saying nonsensical words, hoping that he would confuse her.
That morning the sky was clear. Even the navy clouds were afraid to confront his temper. Her bed was warm, the creases of her blanket tightened her body and she wouldn’t leave that bed if the alarm clock wasn’t so persistent. Hours later she found herself insulted by his manners. Clouded by that feeling of disavowal, she was still studying his movements with the edge of her eye. She used to do that quite often as it was such a pleasure to observe a man’s wildness fighting the child inside him. “Men must believe us stupid when thinking that we don’t know!”, she quoted. She was repeating the same preposition to herself. That was the truth that she didn’t want to live by.
She was a bit charmed and half excited. He was unpredictable and that was the thing that agonized her.Even if he became what she couldn’t stand to encounter, a part of her was thrilled to read another chapter of him.
Today in class we were asked by our english teacher to describe in a composition the person that influenced us over the years and made us what we are. Being asked this question I had to answer. At first it seemed easy, but then…writing about it got complicated. I couldn’t keep myself to those 120 words and after I presented her the first page, I continued the story for myself. I got hit by the memories and I couldn’t stop my hand from writing.
” I had those butterflies clenching in my belly, reaching through my lungs, blocking my words from spreading around. The fire was burning so that I could feel my skin boiling . The reflection of the flames burnt into his maroon eyes and all he could give me was silence. It was obvious we were nervous around each other. Mostly, I was. The chair he was standing on was hot and my uncovered legs started shaking as the wind blew like a quick tornado. He was still silent touching my hand in a gently was that all my insides got worm and loving. I wanted him but I was limited on touching him. I don’t know why but his body language made me feel that way.
After a few seconds the silence was covered by his words.
”I’m nervous around you and I can easily lose my words.” His outloud thought was an interpretation of my clenched stomach. I smiled as I saw the flames in his eyes but the fire was shutting down. I wouldn’t let it die though because I knew that if it died, the heat will go away with it too and I’ll be lost in my nervousity. I stood up from his side and collected some wood which I threw with a quick move above the ashes. The fire got life again and for a second time we were lost in our silence.
He grabbed my hand and made me sit on his lap wrapping his hands around my belly. That moment I was reminded of Charlie in The perks of being a wallflower. As he said, that moment I felt infinite. I had everything but I knew that if I’d stand up I’ll lose it all. I had the warmth of his body and the lost-kid look on his face which hid so much pain. In a way I was pleased by the image of his face as it was an opportunity to see his true character, a deeply frightenned one. His every day joy and always smiley face didn’t convince me of real happinness. On the contrary, I knew behind that smile was more than that.
That moment I saw it. I saw part of the kid that cared too much and had lost too much. That made him indifirent and myseriously attractive. I was surely one of his predators, drown in my own thoughts, locked in a cage of memories. His existence though was a motivation to find the key and free myself.
Today, I did it. I’m free from that steel cage, locked again though in a messed up world.”