The Lovely Death of Nicole V.

OLD FRIEND

"Hi, Nicole!", said the large man; he had a way of always coming around when she least expected, and somehow that was always the best time for him to come. In many ways he was a strange piece, that man. "Are we alright tonight?"

"It happened again" she replied, lying on the bed, school uniform still on her body and backpack still in her hands.

"What was it today?" he wanted to know, but he didn't seem much curious about it "Did they hide your clothes again?"

"There was a fair. There was food. It was bad. This will never stop".

"And who in the world told you that?", he asked, in a very particular sound of joke, while poking around everything in her room. He had been here several times, and he had repeated this action in every one of them. He played with the necklaces by the lamp and the plastic puppies by the shelves. He touched the clothes in her closet and replaced some of her shoes. Then he stared at the camera and tripod set by the window, and paid special attention to the battery charging on the wall, "No one can foretell the future".

"Those girls hate me", she confessed out loud. She was sure of it, there was no point denying it.

"They don't know you", he decided without a thought. Nicole kept her head on the pillow; it was so soft, it was the best thing from her hole day, if she could, if she had the chance, she would never ever leave that pillow, "They don't think anything of you".

"Yes, they do. And I can't do a thing about it", she told herself that this very morning, while brushing her teeth, she whispered that on the way to the bus stop and as usual she thought that when she first saw them on the hallway. There's nothing you can do, Nicole. Just breathe. Easier thought than done, "Sometimes, I think they know".

"Know what?" He knew exactly what, but he was playing with her. Trying to make her stronger in a way. It just made her stomach flip and turn.

"Why we had to move here".

That secret. That openly unclear secret no one could talk about, but she had to live with everyday. The secret became her life, her future, her misery, her nightmare. But there was nothing to be done now, except pretend it wasn't there, even though it was. The best way to keep a secret, is to make it a casual day by the beach.

"Does it make a difference if they know?", this too, was a line of his to make her stronger, but then again, flip and turn and twist. Secret keeping is an exhausting habit.

"It did to everyone in the Capital"

"But does it make any difference to you?"

That was a particullarly good question. Now, good questions used to make Nicole excited and thrilled. Nowadays, it only brings more of the flip and turn and twist and roll. Sometimes, it was in her stomach, like now. Sometimes, it was her hands, or her tongue, or her eyes. The worst of times, it was her lungs. Flip and turn and twist and roll. Impossible to breathe.

Good questions hadn't been good in a really long time.

  "I think your father is worrying again",  the big strange man said to her, after finally being satisfied with the poking of her bedroom, "I think you should talk to him".

She could feel the grip of guilt by the side of her stomach. Nicole watched every trace of her life as it was now and she couldn't believe the pathetics of it all. She was a cliché, a predictable mess, a stupid thing. Everyday of her life she begged to be invisible, but all she managed to achieve was to be unlovable.

"Then it's a good thing that's not your choice. I'm not telling him".

  "Adolescence is a vicious rollercoaster, Nicole",  flip and turn and twist and roll. Yes, rollercoaster seemed fitting, "Almost everybody survives it, but no one does it alone".

"That is a lie", she felt she said it loud, but it came out as a whisper "I know for a fact".

"Really?" there it was again, that sound of joke he had, "Do you know this because of your vast experience after being a teenager so many times?" 

"I hope nobody ever has to go through this more than once.", she got bored of the conversation before she finished the sentence, which was just ordinary of her.

"Well, I've lived and seen teenage more than I could bear, and I know this: you should talk to your father."

"Yes",  she agreed, but her head was flipping, her heart was turning, her hands were twisting and her tongue was rolling. She was, as she knew very well, lying for the sake of herself , "I'll do it later. Now I need to sleep. Goodbye."

She closed her eyes knowing he would not leave her until she was really sleeping. Afterall, you can lie all you want, but nothing will help you pretend you're asleep once Death is in the room.