Just try...

12

I paint my nails black,
I dye my hair a darker shade of brown
'Cause you like your women Spanish, dark, strong and proud
I paint the sky black
You said if you could have your way
You'd make a night time all today
So it'd suit the mood of your soul

Black beauty, Lana del rey

Louna: 

"You can't mena alvar?" I can't understand Jill, I kept the deal! I bought that dress but she just couldn't give up. Sometimes I wonder if she enjoys tormenting me or if she just can't take a no for there she stands with that fucking dress with that ridiculous red flower. She holds it up in front of my nose with such a ridiculous grin that Ambrose usually stuck to her face day in and day out and now I have to see him every day. I see how her grin awakens when she realizes my snooping of seeing the dress in front of me when I just thought I could make it a memory blue. 

"Don't you like it?" She gently asks without any trace of hysteria for a walk and no, I absolutely don't like it. I ignore her and ask the only question that pops up in my head. "When should I have it?" At the moment, it's my big question. When do you have such a dress? I can see the giant flower mock me with its clear red color, wondering if it is self-luminous? But Jill doesn't seem to feel my disgust but instead takes it as a sign of enthusiasm and her face shines. 

"Anytime!" She exclaims "On weddings and partys" before she continues she makes a girlfriend who I think gave me tinnitus "or maybe you should dress up for someone" she flashes with one eye to give me one hints I would rather avoid. 

"Who would I dress up for" it is laughter to think that by all people I would dress up for someone and above all not for a guy. I can see how her face goes quickly from excited to skeptical as soon as I say it. 

"Certainly" I hear her say with the added voice just to tease me which makes something so immense, she can't just drop something not even when you ask her. I keep my eyes on her sometimes I turn with the key in her hand against the door, the lock is jamming a little as usual and a squeaking sound is followed with it when it swings out. I can hear Jill's voice in the bar staff as I step into the empty apartment, the lamp on the ceiling flashes a couple of times before spreading an even light over the worn couch and scattered shoes that lost their spouses somewhere from the hall to the kitchen. The small shop in the center with its delicate display windows with its photographs from the perfect weddings that seem like dreams and the perfectly attracted hairs reflects a facade so neither mum nor me can afford to lose but it reflects nothing more than a perfectly studied shell that is the opposite of reality. It had taken its time but we became the perfect actresses for our business, but it is easy since all you do is build up a fantasy about a dream that will eventually become a reality or it is easy for mom in any case. We wear smiles that loaded weapons and with our heads high but never higher than the bride, we keep calm during the storm but get anxiety from the silence. As mom used to say when I just started standing by her side, "keep your head high, be beautiful but in control" I never understood if she was talking about the job or love. I could never promise her that I would keep my head high or be beautiful but I could promise that I would keep in control of everything I can even if it means that I have to pull on a puzzling guy with golfers as an audience.

"Do you have something to eat here or?" I hear Jill shouting from the kitchen as I see from the small hall, she has opened in large part all the gaps that gap empty. I know exactly what we have at home or rather what we do not have. 

"You can choose between flakes or cold china food" I laugh easily to get the truth out of what I say so it can be a joke but both Jill and I know the truth. We never mention it but we both think about it, there are people who are good and those who are better and we were the first ones mentioned. The world around us is unfair and one had to live with it, one had to adapt, that is what we and many others have been informed about from an early age and we can do nothing but live with it or love it. We became the ones who spoke about it, kept it to ourselves firmly from her, there may come some occasional complaint on the world order. But what is there to do? I used to wonder if there is a God who would tolerate these injustices but as the priest who keeps the worship every Sunday in the church at the square says "The Lord does not give us more than we can handle". At first I thought it was stupid, just a lot of talk but over time I start to stand there more and more. The words I once thought were just a nonsense from a man who crept into the fortune of the communion wine became my mantra the strong survivor and I shall be the strong one. Why just give me people to push me down?" It was a difficult choice for Lulu but it is clear that flakes are clear" she takes down the package from the top shelf and she keeps triumphantly up the bales even though we both know that it is almost finished. I throw away my sandals without worrying about setting them up, Jill has already opened the patio door to the little balcony. It is not very good with the apartment or even the neighbourhood but one of the few things you can't complain about is the view, the balcony is placed between two identical high-rise buildings and gives the view of the sunset in the northwest and the peaks of the nice little houses in the family-friendly areas beyond us .It is not much that can fit on the balcony more than a folding chair and a square away with its rust damage but it was perfect. 

"Do you want?" Jill holds out the flakes and shakes them lightly, I jump up on the table and it rocks easily before I pick up some puffs from the bottom of the package. The air was warm about us and everything was quiet except for a few cars while we were scratching our party puffs. 

Life is what you do it, it is a hell it is they are, but if you see it as paradise, the devil may be tired. But if you see everything as a hell you will end the devil without even marking it."You Lulu?" The silence is interrupted and time seems to catch up with us when you can hear rush hour rushing beyond us, the perfect moment was ruined and our bubble burst because two little ones were pronounced. 

"What?"

"Are you angry?" It was one of the few things I had not expected to hear, it would have been expected that something about a party would come up or if we could get the cold Chinese food. But the cautious question asked me I had been angry but the heat of the anger has released and I'm not even sure anymore if I was angry at all. Annoyed, yes I had been but angry I do not know.

"No" so simple it was, a small word that was true I wasn't angry and probably wouldn't have been that either.

"Good for it looked cruel to you," she said with her grin, there she was again I knew she couldn't stay away long enough, sometimes it is like Jill is suffering from dissociative identity disorder. She can be like a hurricane and bring me to one adventure after another so that, on rare occasions, become like an angel but unfortunately they do not last long enough. Our moment is never complete even now for the front door flying and my mother and a man I have never seen before coming turbulently into the apartment. The voices do not sound promising with their "everything is your fault!" And their "shut up bitch!" There is something about the situation that gives me shivers winding around the spine and, of course, I get up and go towards what I would rather avoid. I see them in the kitchen with their gaping voices heard in the neighbours and their flurry faces. 

I do not even understand how I got there but I suddenly stand between them with my back to my mother as if I can become a wall that can take her stroke, protect her. But the man I meet does not seem to appreciate my new role in the situation and becomes redder and redder."Can you put it down now?" I exclaim in his face resembling a ticking bomb waiting to explode. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Is everything gets out of it before he grabs my arm and without effort throwing me into the sink and I slide down on the floor, I can hear Jill breathe in response to the man's action. And as nothing has happened, their voices are raised again and they move with their tornado into the small bedroom. When they are out of sight, Jill rushes to me and lifts me up from the hard parquet floor. The hip aches a little and the arm he had had in his grip sweat. To both her and my surprise, I get some words from me that I didn't think I would ever say again. 

"You know what? Let's do some shit we're not meant to do "I can feel my own smile really brighten up. Maybe it's time to become "her" again for a while. 

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