The list of sinners

...Celia...

People are not like rain, nor like snow, nor like the delicate leaves of autumn. Unlike these, we humans do not appear as beautiful and radiant when we fall...when we fail...when we cry...when we are shaken by the truths kept secret. All these secrets seem like a weight in my heart that deeply suffocates me with enough pressure to turn into a true pain. They kill me every day more and more, taking away what was once my inner light and turning it into a darkness that covers every moment...every breath.

These secrets seem to be the fuel of my anxieties. Another reason for me to struggle to breathe when a new shock comes. I prepare for it. I let my eyes absorb a variety of nuances, even though they are all coffee-colored, but made unique by the black creaks of tick-tock, of the parquet floor. I was sitting, leaning my head against the wall. I hadn't slept a wink. Just as I tried to sleep, my mother appeared in different versions of brutality.

I had suffered panic attacks several times, and it seemed like my heart wanted to leave its place. The tears shed from the suffocating pain, as good companions to my state, had left me with a terrible headache as a side effect. I covered my face with my hands, feeling fresh tears on my wrinkled cheeks. With the back of my hand, I wiped my face and nose. I got up from the floor. My knees started to shake, making me unable to walk towards the kitchen to get a paracetamol.

With the little strength I had left, holding onto the walls, I managed to go to the kitchen. The shelves were half empty as always. For some reason, the shopping was not done on certain days. I moved aside the remaining boxes to find a pack of paracetamol. Nothing seemed visible on the horizon.

I had to go out and buy it or my head would explode. I threw a long soft shawl over me and, dressed in home clothes, I descended to the nearest pharmacy. My body was shaking and I felt a wave of heat coming out of my body. I was exhausted. The air that surrounded me flowed so freely that it didn't feel my presence. It's like I wasn't there...like I was a ghost and nothing more.

Throughout the day, I stayed indoors, looking out the window at the snow trampled by people's feet. I hadn't gone to school. Sometimes I didn't feel real, not if I didn't hurt myself now and then...it's not that I wanted this state but I was just used to it...I was getting used to it. I didn't know what to do with it.

The afternoon found me at work serving the few customers who were circulating. With the difficult times, I was only able to make $8.31 a day. I tried to put on a smile for the customers, but my appearance showed the complete opposite.

The time to go home came faster than ever. The snow had started again even though a few days ago there was not a single flake. It was cold. I put on my jacket, tied the scarf around my neck, and threw the bag over my shoulder. As I was leaving, I remembered that I hadn't taken an umbrella.

I closed the store and sat down. I stood in front of the closed cafe door, leaning against the wall. If I stayed and waited for the snow break, I would have caught pneumonia. I had no choice but to walk. I took a step when a car horn honked.

"Miss Cardiff."

"Mr. Martinez ?!" I asked almost in surprise.
"Is something wrong?"

"Oh no no." he said.
"I saw you standing here and thought to give you a ride home before the snow gets heavier."

"It's not a problem, we can walk..."

"You don't have to, miss." he said.
"I insist."

I was truly surprised when he led me to the back of the car. Mr. Martinez didn't even hesitate to insist. Maybe he had found the right time with my miserable condition.

"You look very tired."

"Studies...I have exams very soon."

"I understand." he said.
"Where is your house, Miss Cardiff?"

"Cetellmam Street."

"Good, we're almost there."

After that, no one spoke. Only the noise of the working air conditioner and the ice crystals squeezing from the tires could be heard. My work was not far from home and by car, the road took about five minutes. The car stopped a bit further from the house.

"Wait, don't get out."

I followed the order. I watched Mr. Martinez as he approached my door. He opened it and a hand was waiting for me outside.

"You can get out now."

I saw him taking an umbrella for me. I opened the car door even though it seemed unnecessary when the backyard gate was very close, not even a meter away.

"Thank you, Mr. Martinez."

"It was nothing. I hope you don't catch a cold tonight..."

The other hand, not busy with the door, began to brush off the snow from the back of my coat. Mr. Martinez's hand was under my jacket. My whole heart was shaking with anxiety. The cold drops covered my body.

"Maybe we can do something about this." he said, trying to tuck his mouth in between my hair.

"Mr. Martinez, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, hearing my voice echoing quietly under the falling snow.

"Nothing forbidden..."

"Let me go now." I said, pushing his hands away.

"You little bitch." he said, pushing me roughly.

The dampness of the snow became one with my skin. The strap of the bag was pushed further, and the scarf slipped off my shoulders.

"Don't you dare come close, I swear I'll scream and everyone will hear us." I said, making a hand gesture to stop him.

"Really?"

He took a few steps towards me.

"Don't you dare come close." I said, feeling my throat trembling almost in tears.

"Shut up, you heard me." he yelled, grabbing my arm.

I was scared. I was very afraid like never before in my life. It was clear in my whole being. His face, which was getting closer, was very close to mine.

"What's going on here?" a familiar voice was heard.

I turned my head to the right to see who was behind Mr. Martinez. Through the snowflakes, I managed to see Cameron approaching.

"Cameron." I called.

"Celia?!" he said surprised. "What...what's happening? Who are you?"

"He...he was trying to..."

"I was helping her after she fell."

I shook my head in denial, trembling.

"Let her go now and it's best for you to disappear from here." Cameron said, approaching me.

"Be careful with your words, young man."

"Take another step and believe me, you won't get away with it." Cameron said, pulling out his badge. "Thank God I have no evidence of what happened."

Mr. Martinez got into the car with gritted teeth. He turned the steering wheel and accelerated. I stood hidden behind Cameron's back, holding onto his arms tightly.

"Celia, are you okay?" he asked me. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine...thank you."

I hugged his waist.

"Can I do something for you? Do you want me to take you to Donzo's..."

"NO!"

"Why?"

"I want to go home...I just want to go home...please."

"Okay, Celia, as you wish."

I broke away from Cameron and picked up the fallen bag. I took small steps to the backyard gate, dragging my feet, and entered the house.

I stood with my hand leaning against the closed door. Tears began to flow freely. I felt so weak, naive, foolish, and above all, humiliated. I was afraid. Since I had come to this place, everything had been turned upside down. In every street, I encountered wild animals. I was afraid that these creatures were ready to attack, to stop the laughter. Above all, I wanted to change. I wanted to become stronger for myself and walk with my own feet through every storm. But every effort I was making was similar to a parent's effort to keep a child away from scratches.