The Shadow That Smiled At Me

Chapter ten

Our family decided to spend the summer in Paris, just as they promised. My mother spends so much time in Paris that she already bought an apartment there, in the city center with a view of the Eiffel Tower, instead of sleeping in hotels. In short, she spends half the year in Paris, a quarter of the year in Los Angeles, and the rest somewhere in the world. And in her absence, she still finds a way to control my life. Funny, isn't it?

The attic apartment was large, modernly furnished. My room was facing west, I'm a night owl and hate mornings, so I asked for it. I also find the sunset more beautiful than the dawn. And in addition, I have longer light in the evening, while in the morning I can sleep undisturbed until lunch.

My mother showed me her favorite places in the city – the Louvre, cafes, restaurants and especially boutiques. I went shopping with her in exchange for her suffering on my sightseeing tours. Simply put, I'm a typical tourist.

After two weeks, I got my bearings in Paris enough, so I walked everywhere alone. We basically went back to how it was in LA. Me and my parents didn't see each other as the day was long.

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In the middle of the summer, Mother and Father sneaked off somewhere to the sea. I don't know where, most of the time I had no idea where they were. I stayed there for who knows how long, alone. And so I took a day trip to Versailles.

I took a tourist bus to the gates of this magnificent residence, the former kings of France. The golden entrance gate hinted at the wealth hidden behind it. From the outside, the palace looked magnificent, but when I stepped inside, I lost my breath. Inside was the true, breathtaking beauty. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I ran out of words. Gold and marble covered every centimeter of the interior surface. The tinsel from the old days, the time of Louis the Fourteenth, the Sun King, has persisted to this day.

It is the most breathtaking place, after Samael's mansion, that I have seen in my life. However, the two places cannot be compared. They are two incomparable kinds of the word wonderful.

How is it that even though I haven't seen him in so long, it seems like forever, I still have him on my mind?

The noisy noise of visitors carried through the vast space. The echo multiplied it even more. There was a magical atmosphere. I felt like I was in a land of illusions when everything around me was shiny and sparkling. I walked through corridors stuck in the past. I examined every detail with my eyes, engraved the image in my mind.

I was suddenly taken aback. I took a few steps back. I stared at the picture hanging on the wall. The portrait showed a man dressed in black. Nice, young facial features. Strands of jet-black hair fell into his eyes—golden eyes. I admire the art of the old painters, their talent to capture reality so truly. It seemed so realistic that it seemed the image should blink every now and then. Well, nothing. He was motionless. He remained dead. The artist captured Samael better than I ever could, and my room is filled with his drawings.

The longer I looked at the picture, the more real it seemed. As if he was standing right in front of me and I was lost again in the golden swirl of his eyes. After a long period of silence, the call was heard again. "Arya....... Arya....... Arya......." However, this time the voice did not scream with the desire to disappear from the world, to evaporate without a trace and never to return, it was calling him, calling for his presence.

I laughed. I thought it was funny that I found him here. It was slightly confusing but funny. I'm guessing I'll probably never get rid of him. Even when I'm not with him, I see him everywhere.

Passing tourists stared at me, not knowing what I was laughing at. They looked at me like I was crazy. I ignored them. I shook off the dumb look and moved on. The smile never left my face. I would be interested in the story of painting on that canvas. But I'm afraid that even if I asked Samael about that painting, he wouldn't answer, or his answer would be, "Maybe one day when you're ready."