the Devil and the Sea

7| Echoes of the past

"I don't know, just a drawing." I casually toss the drawing away like it's rubbish, but I keep my eyes on the sheet until it reaches the floor again. 

Ricky, all sweaty and out of breath, bends over me and, enclosing my face in his hands, kisses me on the lips. Such a warm and familiar kiss. I can't remember the last time Ricky kissed me like that. It's probably normal when you've been in a relationship with a person for a year. When mutual reproaches and insults have accumulated so much that you no longer pay attention to anything else.

"I'm going to take a shower and go to the city, I need to visit my mom and Lars. Do you want to come with me?"

Ricky and I call Barcelona a city among ourselves, and Sitges is a village. Lars is his mom's dog. If you are into breeds - a pug.

"Maybe I'll stay at home." I speak while yawning, then lean back on my soft bed and stretch my whole body.

"Okay, I'll be back tomorrow."

Ricky goes to the shower, then says goodbye to me and leaves for Barcelona.

After Ricky leaves my room, I lazily get out of bed, go to the mirror to put my hair back in a ponytail.

I carefully comb the long dark strands up with my fingers and fix it with an elastic band at the back of the head - it turns out terrible, so I let my hair down. I shake my head from side to side so that my hair falls over my shoulders in the most casual way.

I look at myself - I like this view more.

My left eyelid still hurts, and once again I change the plaster, I try to stick it in the best way. I look at the wound and my thoughts go back to the guy from London that Phil told me about yesterday. Why didn't I ask him his name? Or did Phil say it, but I didn't remember because I didn't attach any importance to it? Why am I even thinking about someone I've never seen?

It seems that I'm a really unworthy girl , as my ex-boyfriend Mark used to say. Inside, everything shrinks at the memory of Mark.

Images of the past flash in my head, when I met with Mark and our mutual friends every evening on the football field. After a few years when my father gave up on me, Mark became the one who supported my involvement in this sport. We enjoyed playing football until the sun went down, and after that we went looking for trouble for our teenage asses. It was the best time of my life - so it seemed to me at that moment.

I examine the face in the reflection, the look of brown eyes has changed a lot since then: it has become colder and more cynical.

Since you were fucked and abandoned, the subconscious helpfully reminds.

Thank you Mark for taking the naivety out of me. I grin at my reflection.

I pick up my phone again and look at the big broken screen. Mark hasn't called me in months, but out of habit, even more out of curiosity, I still check to see if he's called. However, now I am sure that after our last meeting he will not call again. Before, Mark still tried to contact me. But not now.

I take a black rag band from the shelf under the mirror and tie my hair with it. I pull out two small strands so that they frame my face on both sides.

I spend all day in bed, ignoring calls from Jesus and Phil. Thinking about why I'm in a relationship with Ricky and why I didn't work out with Mark. I chew in my head the words that a stranger on the beach said to me last night. He was not the first to understand that I was a bad person, the first was Mark. After that, the number of people dissatisfied with me has only multiplied.

I'm texting Phil that I'm not in the mood today and that I'll see him tomorrow.

I sit down at the table to have dinner. Mom and dad went to the evening football match to support Joan, which they have not done for me for a long time.