Dark Dreams

SAY "CHEESE"

"What the..."

I turned, confused. Behind me was a girl whose identity I didn't know: shorts and a skin-tight top highlighted her perfect, olive-skinned body. Her black bob contrasted with her emerald green eyes, which were looking at me, intrigued.

"Don't tell me that's your best pose," said the girl, waving the camera in her hands. "Come on, stop looking at me like a dead fish and give me a real smile."

"Sorry... who are you?" I asked, increasingly confused.

"Oh, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I have to get a photo of you," she replied, pointing the lens at me.

"I'm sorry, but you can't," I said in a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. "I'm sure you can find someone better."

She opened her eyes wide, as if I had just insulted her whole family tree.

"Look, being among the photos taken by this camera is an honor!"

Her gaze fell on the object that she was holding so carefully in her hands: a small pink camera decorated with glitter and unicorns. It looked more like a toy than an apparatus to be proud of.

"This thing has taken photos at Goldmist's hippest parties," she said, placing a slender arm on her hip.

I wasn't at all surprised that someone like her hung out with high society.

"But I'm tired of the usual faces," she grumbled. "Today I was looking for a face that reminds me why I love photography, a face that tells me a story instead of just showing me a mask."

"And you got this by looking at my back?" I asked.

"No, stupid. I saw your reflection in the door."

Her eyesight was definitely better than mine.

"By the way, what were you doing outside the door?"

"Well, I was about to buy a costume for a Halloween party I'm going to."

"You know it's October 6, right?" she remarked.

"Yes, I happened to check the date more than once today but... well, let's say that the people who are throwing this party are a little strange," I said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't think I'll go."

"And why not?"

"I'm sorry to be direct, but I've never seen you before. Why should I tell you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm a psychology student," she replied, winking at me.

"And...?" I wondered, thinking that besides being beautiful, she must also be smart.

"And I'm a well of advice," she said, smiling self-assuredly.

It was not a great argument, but I told myself that confiding in a girl who I would never see again couldn't be a dangerous decision.

"Let's just say I don't think I'm worthy of the people who'll be at the party," I told her, averting my eyes.

"And who says so?" she asked me, frowning.

"They say so, society says so and well... I say so," I replied, biting my fingernails.

"You have no power over what others say," she said angrily, letting a slight accent seep out which resembled Fernando's, "but you have full control over what you think. You should never let others think for you. You can't control their thoughts, but you can control your own."

"You're... you're right!!" I said, full of newfound self-confidence. A broad smile appeared on my face. "You should be a psychologist!"

Click click.