The First Time. 🇺🇸

Chapter Four.

They were many...

Five or maybe even 6...

I ... I am unable to know exactly.

My memories are as crystallized. In my mind, I'm looking for where the information on this small group has been gathered. Running between each ray of my mental library.

Five men, I believe.
Yes, five men.

I see them.
Not very distinctly, but I see them.

One of them more precisely.

The feeling that I have when trying to remember him petrifies me.I have known so much pain, fear, anger...
But this sensation is unlike any other. As if I felt it for the first time, and no comparative memory came to my mind.

I'm still standing for a moment. Attentively, my eyes followed her group.

They moved quickly and talked to unknown girls. And then left without eating, 3 girls followed them without a word.

When I come back in the reality, I notice that I am not the only one to stopped moving.

A boy, a little older than me, is also motionless.

Except that his attention is not turned towards the output of the new group, but of course me.He stares at me without seeming embarrassed at all. I hold his gaze, forgetting that to dwell so much on a face would stick to me dozens of useless pages on one of my shelf.For the first time in a long time I wanted to observe someone's expression.To understand his attitude ... Or to satisfy this character trait that defined me so well.I should not have.
But my eyes have explored every part of his face. I threw myself into a pit that had until then been only a reminder of what I had been.

Every detail became imbedded in me, from the crease of his lips to the regular contraction of his jaw, to the jerking motion of his hand on his cheek. He was vulnerable, stuck in the abyss of my mind forever.

This certainty gave me a feeling that I knew only too much, the power.
The haughty smile, growing in my face, proof of the return of my demons, freeze a fraction of a second on my face.

And as if he had just understood, he got up violently without looking away from me before go out by one of the swinging doors that still swayed after the passage of the unknown group.
I was flabbergasted, panting from this brutal connection stop.

Laura smile at me, with a sneer. I do not know exactly what she has seen about my exchange of glances with this stranger, but what is certain is that she did not understand how much I had just screwed up.

My efforts of the last months had just exploded in flight. I had lost the little consciousness I had left. I already felt my mental library tidying up herself differently,. The shelfs took again the sections of before, that of a time where my memories were weapons and not tools.

The memory of the telephone theft quickly took refuge on the new evidence section. I use my hand and my pain.

I squeeze the edge of the table to help me regain a semblance of consciousness, but the pain that electrified my fingers, plunged me five years ago.

Sitting alone on a bench, a little girl, Hainea, approaches me. I do not know her yet, but her face inspires me confidence. Everyone seems to reject her, like me.

I hate school since mom told me I was not like everyone else.

My mind is different, I see books and a room in my brain ... Mom calls that my mind, I learned in science that it's called the brain, but I did not want to hurt her so I nodded.

My frail little fists are tight, ready to defend me this time. Dad is never here, and I could not ask him if to fight was wrong or not. But I do not really have other solutions. I had friends before, but they all left with them. I think they are scared ... Me too. Except that no one asked me if I wanted to be friends with them. They make fun of me, and humiliate me, but I do not know how to stop it. In class, we learned that there was only one end to conflict, war. That's why I decided to fight. But I am very scared.

That's what I think when she approaches me. I do not think she wants to be with them. She is often with the older ones and no one is bothering her too much. Or maybe more. I have a hard time knowing who is like me, there are so many memories in my brain that I can not sort them. And when I'm scared, it's worse. Sometimes I stutter because of the number of words that reach my brain.She walks towards me, and sits next to me, with a timid smile. I am not suspicious. Hainea is new, she does not know that I am different. She asks me if I want to play, and I'm relieved to hear that word. I have so few friends that I did not play since months. The playground is a torture for me, and I really wanted to become a little girl, despite the bad words of the doctor, and other students. But the children are so nasty and hurtful...

I take the hand she gives me. She talks to me about a new game, and proposes to me to find a discreet place not to make us annoy. So she knows. She knows that no one loves me, and she still wants to play with me. I was so happy that I decide to show him my secret spot, where I take refuge so that no one can bother me or find me. She gives me an interested look, and I see only what seems to me to be enthusiasm. I am young, and I train an unknown girl in my sanctuary, because I need to be loved. My little corner is where adults come to use cigarettes. I do not really agree with that, but I can sneak between the metal frames of the wall to be hidden, alone in a small corner. From here, I can hear the ring, and I'm protected.Hainéa hesitates before slipping between the two wall face of the concrete wall and the other metal, but I go ahead, and it motivates me to follow me.
By attending this memory again, I realize how naive I was. The little girl's smile was not nice, it was scary.

A jolt on the table drags me from my memory. My hand is sore from squeezing the table, and Laura's gaze on me speaks volumes.

I clench my jaw, aware that a memory as buried as this one would never have to go out.

The section where for months no memory comes out has just reopened.

And that does not bode nothing well ...