No, let me explain... the boy hissed, his voice becoming more and more broken.
I... she stared at him blankly, while she grasped the knife that she was about to unleash.
His wheeze, caused by her fist on his larynx, sobered her up. She released her grip, leaving him to fall on the ground.
She returned to her apartment and came out shortly after, holding his sketchbook. Having secured the door with the lock, she approached the kid and threw the album at his feet. I dont want to see you ever again were her last words before slipping down the hall and leave the building.
She wandered for a long time through the streets of the city, she wanted to run, but she no longer had the burning desire to escape; she felt drained and, for the first time ever, she realized she had to face an issue she kept avoiding for a long time.
She entered a semi-hidden alley of the city when the sun was setting and stopped in a small open space which was the loading and unloading area of some warehouses abandoned years earlier. The dirt around her, the gloomy silence interrupted only by the traffic of the main road and the light that gave everything an orange-pink hue, made the place look almost surreal.
Fade thoughtfully stared at a particular point of that place for a few minutes.
What is this place? Asked a familiar voice from behind her. The girl gasped at the unexpected question, and turned around. Jag was sitting with his legs dangling on the small protruding sill of a bricked off window.
How the hell do you manage to follow me around? She asked, without any more resentment against him.
I have magic powers he joked with an open smile.
She replaced her usual sullen expression with a half-smile, Yeah sure... then she returned serious.
Here, she continued after a moment's hesitation Is where it happened.
She approached the point that she was staring at. This is a place abandoned by everyone, where even criminals have to give up their business, because at night it turns into an arena for desperate people. The concrete of this road has absorbed the blood of many and, that night, there was me and the boy who challenged me.
He continued to irritate me, she went on with effort he was a brat but he had a sharp tongue, he said things that made me lose my mind...
What kind of things?
He insulted my parents, but he didnt go on for long: I broke his nose with a kick...
Ouch... said the boy, imagining the pain that can be inferred by giving a kick with rollerblades.
But it wasnt enough for me, I wanted him dead. I pulled my knife and I attacked while he was lying on the ground whimpering for his broken nose. He started to beg me, telling me that he didnt want to die, that I'd won and that he wanted to go home... I dont know what came over me but suddenly the anger was gone. I didnt feel sorry for him, I was just disgusted. I stood still, so he took the opportunity to grab a hidden knife, stick it in my leg, push me backwards and then jump on me in turn. I instinctively raised my arms and I stabbed him in the stomach.
She hesitated a moment, as if afraid to tell the rest of the story.
I still remember his expression, his eyes staring at me as they slowly closed, the words dying in his throat and the blood coming out of his mouth and dripping and staining me for what I had done...
He died like that, when I no longer wanted to kill him. She confessed softly. I had to roll him off of me and escape, despite my leg sodden with blood and the pain that almost made me faint.
How did you save yourself? Asked the boy quivering.
I have a friend, or should I say a saviour, she murmured to herself, whom I met the first time I came to live here. Hes a Doctor and, although it may seem absurd, he took me under his wing without asking too many questions. That night I managed to reach his house and he gave me stitches. Then... she concluded There was a violent storm that wiped away the traces of blood and the police found that to be an excellent deterrent to continue the investigation: these roads have long been at the mercy of poor devils and the law doesnt visit them willingly... she implied.
Before Jag had a chance to ask any other questions, Fade declared: Now let's go, this place wont be very safe in a short while.
The child nodded, he jumped down from his spot as improvised spectator and walked toward the alley from which she had come. She followed him sadly, brushing off her leg, and turned back to look at that place for the last time. She pointed an imaginary handgun formed by the index and the thumb of her hand.
Bang, she said quietly mimicking a shot toward something unknown and then left, as if she had closed the chapter of a book for which, for some time, she was searching for a convincing end.
The dark allure
The next morning Fade woke up again because of the noise that Jag was making in the kitchen. The microwave signalled the end of the heating cycle with a noisy sound.
The girl sat dazed on the mattress and looked at the opposite side of the room, a number of rags rolled into the shape of a mattress brought to mind the night before, when she had prepared a bed for her new and very weird acquaintance.
The boy presented a plate with a steaming waffle covered with a sticky sauce, which she eyed suspiciously, but she didnt hesitate to eat it.
After an endless amount of time, which the girl needed to finish her hairdo, the two were on the street and began to quarrel about a question left open the day before: the brat insisted that it was impossible not to know the group of which he was a huge fan, because they were world-famous; the girl, for her part, retorted that she didnt give a damn about a stupid band. The argument went on until they entered the place where they were directed: a music CD shop. He rushed inside, leaving her, dumbfounded, at the door; she didn't even know why she was there, but the excitement that the little boy put into everything he did managed, somehow, to cloak the mess that was getting tangled in her head. She skated inside, finding herself surrounded by shelves full of CDs with many different graphics.
She observed the illustrations of a few covers for a while, and then she reached the child who was standing in a corner, wearing some headphones that were too big for his head. He seemed mesmerized by the music and he sang the song he was hearing, while holding a CD case. When she approached him, he took off his headphones and said, Here! Listen to this!
Are you kidding? Ill ruin my hairdo!
Then look! He said, handing her the album that he was holding tight. Fade half-heartedly took the case and glanced at the cover. It was a picture of a group of four people in front a totally black background. Dull she thought, and began to consider the members of the group: two boys with a girl between them, modelling in a cool pose; behind them loomed a curly-haired boy of considerable height, his stature would probably have been overwhelming in person.
The two in the front stared at the camera with diametrically opposed expressions: the first, with an extremely 'Emo' hairstyle, had a thoughtful look that seemed to communicate what his whole life was a continuous torture; the other displayed a grin which seemed to tease you because he had achieved success and all you could do was envy him. The latter, especially, stood out for his dress code. A half unbuttoned dark shirt showed a jumble of ornaments around his neck. Finally there was the girl, smooth black hair, deep shiny eyes as dark as the night. She stood in the centre of the page with her arms crossed. Her eyes observed you from head to toe, as though you were a nullity and she dangled a cigarette from her mouth. The smoke, clearly added with a miserable editing intervention, rose up to form the band name. Momuht Fade read.