Song: Young - Vacation
Meantime, the aforementioned was lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling with a lit cigarette on her lips, listening to the house breathing, trying to remember who she was a year ago or who she was at that exact moment. Was it something she could think of herself or only someone from outside could see?
"Michelle, come on. Wake up!" She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to put in her mind that that was reality and she needed to do something, be something. Ah, I want to sleep. No! She jumped and got up. I can't sleep right now, I've to study. Then revise my German notes, watch anime and I really need to end «Les sursis».
«Les sursis» was one of the books Michelle found behind her bedside table and started reading in the same second, curious about that french writer she had never heard of. Jean-Paul Sartre, by portraying and focusing on about a dozen men and women, emphasizes the universality and social nature of events of this type. Many men and women are afraid, not just one. The action happened in France, just before the beginning of the 2nd world war, and Sartre tried to describe what was happening from many different points of view.
The technique used in this book that simply fascinated Michelle and other readers was similar to the counterpoint technique in music, in which different voices coexist and intertwine maintaining their individuality. These continuous switches between the various characters created some sort of gestalt, something that is more than the sum of the single voices of the characters, Sartre created invisible links that nearly sounded like poetry.
A few minutes later she was so into the little book that she had forgotten the cigarette on the ashtray and replaced it with coffee. Things might have been happening too fast or just not happening at all in her mind. It was like the time had stopped, the time couldn't stop. Time hadn't stopped at all, because after three hours when she had finished the book and was reading out loud a German text, the bell rang.
"Caroline... What are you doing here?"
"Michelle." Caroline looked her up and down. "We agreed to study here for the Mathematics III exam."
"No, we didn't." Michelle nodded.
"Sara and James are in their way." She pointed, holding a smile.
"Fuck."
Caroline entered the apartment, feeling a strong sense of tobacco. "You are a mess."
"Shut up. Anyways, you want something to eat... or drink?"
The other girl ignored her and drove to the sofa looking curiously at every detail in the house, the mess she was expecting already. "What were you doing?"
What was I doing... What was I doing? Michelle was petrified with widened eyes looking at Caroline from the island. "I was... Oh, I was studying German.
"Let's study German, then!"
She was stopped when following Michelle to her room and listened to her classmate explaining that the room wasn't presentable enough. "You don't wanna see it. And I've been hiding it from Sage... " She scratched her curly hair. "Is not safe to enter."
The visitor was abandoned in the living room for a moment, staring at the small receptacle for tobacco full of gray ashes.
***
There wasn't any sun ray penetrating the heavy clouds hovering in the sky, the last days of October were purporting like a dull cold January. The birds had disappeared and now people had to be careful with the water puddles. Michelle was on the balcony of the apartment with her usual black grief clothes and lips glued on Aelin's, whose tiny body was between hers and the wall, taking advantage of the heat coming from Michelle's skin.
YOU ARE READING
I Hate My Roommate
Teen Fiction«It felt like things were going back to normal, their balance, the peace between those walls that sooner or later would reach a climax and everything would break into pieces, it would look like the damage is irretrievable and there's no turning back...
