Indelible (EN)

Chapter 15

"In a world of moral constraint, donning the costume of the tempting demon can be a form of civility" 

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— Magic isn't real. I said as I watched the big white bird return to the man's shoulder.

— You have to believe it or you're doomed. Whispers a voice behind my back.I turn round to face a tall figure in a cloak, his face completely hidden.

— I don't believe in God or magic. I shouted as I made my way out of the park, ignoring this enigmatic stranger.

— That's the problem. The voice is following me.

— What the fuck do you want from me? I stop, standing in front of the man. His face still unapproachable.

— Your faith is wavering, you're on the verge of slipping, Xiona.

Surprised, I tilted my head slightly to one side, gauging whether the man standing a few metres away from me was dangerous.

— How do you know my name?

— A lot of people know who you are.

— What the hell are you talking about? Furious with impatience, I had to know in order to leave the town of Puento or not.

The man turns around and by the time I turn my head for a second, to check that no threats are coming from the sides or behind my back, he's gone in the blink of an eye, literally.

My blood was boiling, bringing with it a heartbeat that was far too fast. My eyes scan the crowd in the distance, families, groups of friends, children and the people who were walking their dogs earlier, moving further and further away, going about their business, which I imagine to be uninteresting.I look for the man with my eyes, but to no avail, my feet anchored to the grey cobblestone floor where a few sprigs of grass and a few daisies manage to grow, at least before they wither. 

Tetanised, I keep repeating the words of the man whose face I haven't been able to see. Somehow I tell myself that the feeling I have of being followed is real. There are several scenarios, some plausible, others seeming impossible. Was this the man who had been following me to my front door? Is it possible that I know him? How did he know me? Should I run away?I replay the sound of footsteps in the dark behind me, light strides, sometimes far away and sometimes far too close, leaving no shadow at all.

For fuck's sake... I've got to pull myself together. The resilience I've developed over the last few years allows me to lift my right leg, with difficulty, as if it weighed two hundred and fifty kilos, in order to take that first stride. My ears are ringing, I can hardly hear anything around me, but when I put my left foot on the ground, a pain and a noise wake me up from my psychosis. A good slap, I admit.Facing me is a tall woman with long, blonde, ringed hair, traces of mascara under her reddened eyes, dressed in a short leather skirt. Behind her, the little princess hides.

I'm relieved to be out of my mental prison, even if it costs me a swollen cheek scarred by the shape of that bloody woman's slender fingers.

They leave without waiting for the slightest reaction from me. The 12 centimetre high heels clatter on the stones of the square and the girl's hair flies in unison with her little victory hops.

The crowd dispersed and in no time the park was completely empty. I find myself alone in the centre of the square, lost in a universe over which I have no control.Shit, I need a coffee, three of them. 

I leave the park and head for Léon's café.

12h43 -

I place my hand gently on my hungry stomach. In front of the shop window, I read the handwritten menu of the day, posted outside on a slate board, and my eyes jump to a particular sandwich. I enter, the sound of voices and customers laughing fills the space, while the smell of cakes, food and coffee permeates the air.