"Magic is a dream for children, a show for grown-ups, giving the illusion of enchantment that shines in your eyes but blows in the wind".
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11 h 10 -I woke up a little later than usual and I'm quite surprised I didn't take any sleeping pills last night. The pain must have been so great that it finally wore me out. My wound hurts like hell, I admit, but the bandage seems to be holding and the stitches are neat and precise, at least for me, who's not a surgeon.
I look out of the window and a light rain is falling. I really need a hot cup of coffee. I'm putting on a T-shirt when the sound of the doorbell makes me turn around. I walk over and open it slightly. Ian is standing there in his sports kit, his hair dripping wet.
— Why are you here? I say curtly.
— To ask you out for a drink, remember? I've got a date with you tonight. he hastens to throw in my face, smirking.
— Oh no, you don't. You're dreaming.
— Yesterday, you didn't have a problem showing off your body to the whole neighbourhood, half-naked, but going out with me is a huge pain in the ass, seriously?
He's making puppy-dog eyes at me. No, it's too much, I want to throw up.
— You didn't see anything. I growl.
I tried to slam the door in his face, but his foot got in the way.
— You were half-naked with a big bandage around your abdomen, and I think I even saw a wound on your arm. So, technically, yes, I saw almost everything. he says, purring.
I wasn't expecting this conversation, especially not before a cup of coffee, before 11 o'clock in the morning, and on top of all that, not with him. What a bloody good start to the day.I open the door a little more and turn to him.
— Well, yes. That's right! Happy now?! I thunder, my chest heaving rapidly.
—I'll see you later then?
— Don't get your hopes up.
He nods, and as he moves away from the door, a few drops fall on the floor. Ian turns his head in my direction and waves before walking away.
I close the door and head straight for the bathroom. I switch on my loudspeaker, which plays slow, dark, sensual music. It's time for a good shower, combined with the pain of the scalding water that rekindles my wounds. There's nothing like it to wake you up completely.
Now underwater, I wash my hair with shampoo and let my body soak in the shower, enjoying the sound of the water hitting the tiles and the feel of the wet drops against my skin. The smell of lavender, lemon and mint fills the room.
With the tap turned off, I dry my body with a large, fluffy towel. I shake my long brown hair dry. I run my hand through it several times to untangle as many knots as possible, because yes, I don't have a hairbrush, my fingers do the job just fine.
I return to my room, throw the wet towel on the mattress and open the cupboard, which reveals my small collection of clothes. A black leather jacket with a hood and zips, a white T-shirt.
Sitting on the bed, I slip on a pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of black boots, a little detail that goes well with the top. The wound hurts when I bend over, and I notice that my forehead is still burning.
I grab my phone, look at the screen and the date. It's Saturday, and the last time I went out on a Saturday with a man was five years ago, on a blind date with Cassie and two other guys. As you can imagine, she forced me to go out with her. I cut the date short by spilling my drink on the face of the guy in front of me - 13 minutes was the most I could take before I gave up and left them in the lurch.
I took a key from the cupboard, slipped it into the lock of a small black box carved with flowers and the lid swung open. Inside is a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a cross, the one my brother Aaron often wore. My fingers wander over it and my throat tightens, I'm suffocating. I can't breathe. My eyes blur. I can't take it any more, my tears fall on the jewellery and I hold back a cry of pain. I put the necklace around my neck, closed the box and hid it at the back of the cupboard.
Facing the mirror, I wipe away my tears and add a thin line of black eyeliner to my eyes.
I get out, close the door behind me and take the lift. As soon as I stepped out of the building, I immediately saw a large crowd in the middle of the garden of the residence. There are people of all ages, children and parents. They are gathered around a tall man dressed as a magician. The clouds have parted and a few rays of sunshine are now warming the drenched little flowers.I approach the crowd, take my place at the back and try to listen to what the man is saying.
— And with a snap of his fingers, the dove appears on my shoulder.
He snaps his thick fingers and the bird flies over the audience. The children laugh and raise their hands, trying to touch the white bird standing in the air.
— With this flower, I'm going to make a magic potion.
He pulls a flower from his sleeve and waves it vigorously. He holds out a glass of water and places it in it.
— Now, ladies and gentlemen, with a little magic, you're going to see a miracle happen.
The crowd begins to whisper, excited at the prospect of this magical trick.He puts his hand over the glass and, at that very moment, the flower starts to grow and grow and grow, overtaking the man's skull.
I can hear a little girl giggling beside me, her mouth wide open, her eyes filled with wonder.
— It's only a magic trick, I can do it too. I mumbled.
The little girl, three apples high, turns to me, her little fists on her hips, and answers in a very high-pitched voice. She looks like Cassie and also like that rabid Chinchilla that Ian showed me the day before.
— You don't understand, you have to believe it to make it real!
— But it's not real. I replied, sticking my tongue out at her.
— You're ruining everything. Magic is the most powerful force in the world.
— Not the gods? I arched an eyebrow.
— It's the magic of the gods. confessed the little girl in a slightly weaker voice.
— I don't understand, how can magic be real - if the Gods can do anything?
— If we believe in something, it must exist! She proudly states her opinion, pointing her index finger skywards.
— Don't talk rubbish. Grow up, kid. I growled in a deep voice.
I was about to leave when she threw the ball back in my court.
— You're the one talking nonsense.
I turned back to her and replied.
— Oh yeah?
— You're ruining the magic.I smiled.
— You're ruining it for yourself.
— No, it's you. Underline the child.
— You are. I add, like a 4-year-old.
— You. Insists the little one.
— You. I hurried to repeat, bending down to her level
— You! She retorts
— Mouaah-ha-ha-ha. I pretend to laugh demonically.
— Stop! orders the little scoundrel.24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2SCxzOAGAS
24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1NSeWszveJ
I can see her eyes welling up with tears. Inwardly, I'm gloating.
— Why should I stop? I say, staring into her dark eyes.
— It's no good.
— Tell me why. I say in a louder, more powerful voice, almost threat.
— Y-You're ruining the m-magic. she stutters, trying to hold my gaze.I've got to admit, this kid's got guts.
— But why? Explain it to me.
I raise my shoulders slightly, arms outstretched, showing her my lack of understanding.
— The magic is ruined.
— I'm glad I ruined your day, you spoiled little princess.
— Hey... You can't say that, that's mean.
— Watch me do it! I'm rubbing my hands together as if to make a fire. It's just that the temperatures are still a bit low.
— Please don't!I see her take a few steps back, a frightened expression on her face.
— Please don't. I repeated her exact phrase and intonation, to mock her.
— Y-Your whole existence is a-a problem. she stammers.
I widen my eyes at her remark. A big shiver creeps under my skin and a wide, forced smile slips onto my lips.
— Oh really? I reply, moving closer to her.
— Your presence disturbs me.She closes her eyelids, trying to make me disappear.
— What, princess, have you seen a monster? I whisper a few millimetres from her ear.
— It is you... T-the m-monster.
— What a compliment! I crooned.
I applaude myself and the sound made her open her steel-blue eyes. I took the opportunity to show her my middle finger.
— You're a monster! screams the little girl.
— Yes, I am, but be careful, I'll come at night and eat your toes if they stick out of the bed.
I move my fingers towards her, mimicking a monster licking its lips. I feel her stiffen and shiver. Ready to release a flood of tears.
She's scared. I've won.
— You've won!
— I know I did.
— I don't want to see you again, you witch! She shouts in annoyance and frustration before running off to find her parents in the crowd.
The man continues to perform his magic tricks, while a headache attacks the left side of my head.24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzhxeOJz7yy
