Approximately forty minutes later " considering the amount of cars in traffic" the sea came into focus, skirting the feet of the city like a carpet designed by the gods. Even when we went down on the pier, knowing that much of the trip would still take an absurd time to be calculated, the sovereignty that exhaled from each small wave below us was like a calming effect. Kendall and Tristan were not intimidated to pay attention to what my father and another man were talking about; maritime instructions, I noticed.The speedboat that would take us home was huge, and due to my father's familiarity, I was sure that he would have driven something similar someday, even if he was not the captain on our journey. I led myself to the bow, taking Kendall with me, and we sank into the benches that surrounded the vessel. Tristan and my father went to the cabin, and the man who was helping them returned to the pier, throwing a small nod that only Kendall responded to.I tried to ignore the nervousne
"You French people exaggerate too much," I grumbled, crossing my arms. "In fact, you shouldn't even know what happened.I didn't wait for Lizzie's reaction, and I had the impression of hearing a bad word with her loaded French accent. I had to sigh to contain a scream. That place would never be my home.The steep path that led us to the huge house with a marble facade was long. We passed through villages and houses as my sister ran, citing the weddings of old neighbors and professional successes of the lives of others. She seemed uncomfortable when she said she worked in a nightclub, saving her the detail that it didn't make me a call girl or something like that. My grandmother, however, just stretched her body through the space between the two front seats and hit me lightly on the leg, saying:"A firm ass must be very well used, ma chérie.We parked in front of a house with walls shaded by copper roofs, and ivy trees that stood out of the garden on the other side. I registered each t
My cell phone played a constant whistle as I balanced myself on the bed with the heavy suitcase. Kendall had just entered the bathroom of the room we would share, and sang louder and louder a song that existed only in her wrong language. At the first moment we entered the room with pink walls, completely foldered floor, and padded and angled backrest bed, next to nightstands that merged with the same pale color of each piece of furniture scattered over the amplitude of the room, we were in shock.My closet was the same as in childhood, only two doors attached to the left wall, surmounted by golden notches. Everything was too clear for me. Too childish for my personality, and I almost threw up when I noticed the floral print quilts.There was a dressing table in the corner of the room, next to the huge window covered by pink curtains. The chair in front of a small face mirror was soft and with spirals drawn on the backrest, as if it had been handmade.We had been locked in that room sin
A spark of what seemed to be pity appeared in his eyes for a second. "I know that the feeling of guilt is overwhelming, but I can guarantee that it will pass. "He slid one of his fingers over his lower lip gently. "When you come back, maybe I can teach you how to release anger, without killing someone. "I laughed, unintentionally, and he added: "With no ulterior motives, just a way to defend yourself. Better this way?I let out a whistle, trying not to sound like the high school that seemed to be interpreting. "I would never be able to fight a man, Zachary. Look at my size! I mean, the lack of size.He laughed, loud and genuine. I gave you another smile. I would admit to anyone who asked that that conversation was being the only thing in days that brought me smiles and laughter. Zachary didn't need to know about this fact."First rule, Camila. "He raised one of his fingers. "Size will never define practice. You must know that.It took me a while to understand, and I even fell my head t
The city was stained with pink and gold, bathed in the dull light of the sun that disappeared before meeting the greenish waters of the Seine River. I just sat at the table where the gentle waiter with reddish cheeks suggested with a gesture of head, and absorbed the most banal behavior that pedestrians on Rue des Francs Bourgeois had. Someone laughed next to my table, and I realized how strong the Parisian accent was, differentiating them from the other French.I turned the contents in my cup of coffee, causing small swirls in the strong drink softened by milk, and sighed, happy to feel so comfortable in miles away from the people who stained the image I had of my country of origin. It was as if the fresh air mixed with the candy of each confectionery around the length of that street could replace the smell of salt, lemon and verbena that Cannes had.Couples crossed the sidewalk commenting vigorously on random subjects. Single people passed in front of glazed stores and admired the i
I didn't dare think too long about anything, fearing spending hours with my brain on fire for questions that didn't deserve an answer: How many times was that woman devoured by her vivid memories? How many times did she wish the death of the one who had ruined her? Would you have been able to forgive him?I carefully observed the features forged on his pale skin, slightly flushed at strategic points. She had a beautiful smile, although a wide scar interrupted the side of her lower lip. His hair curled below his shoulders, shining in platinum strands. He wore a weak makeup, highlighting his lips by a discreet red.My eyes evaluated the midnight blue dress that wrapped around her thin waist and exposed her thick thighs. There were folds on the skirt of the dress; not enough to leave it full, just a way to cut the straight length. The neckline consisted of a triangular shape, although the sleeves were long and lacy. She pushed away her sunglasses and kept them in her bag, slightly raisin
I looked closely towards him, and saw when the sun's rays touched the diamond tip of the ring that served as a pendant for his necklace and caused a rainbow reflection on the table. I saved my speech, limiting my statement with a nod. Distracted, Abigail wrapped the necklace with her index finger, almost folding the steel."Believe me, if he were dead, you would still feel that way," she said, sounding sincere. "For all the others who have never managed to escape or who have never had someone to protect them. Without a doubt, the feeling of injustice is usually worse than physical pain.I looked away on purpose, bothered by the way Abigail looked at me. It was as if she could see every piece of what I hid. As if you could have the clear vision of the girl who one day prayed to have a united family, and who one day allowed herself to be loved by others. But I regretted it when I found the desolate countenance of your handsome boyfriend. He pressed his lower lip with his teeth, depositi
I hated my bridesmaid dress with all my strength.Not that he was a mess of cloths and colors. It was just too fair for my conscience to be convinced that the exaggerated shapes of my body would not attract enough attention alone.At another time, I might love the gigantic slit on the side of my left leg. I would feel proud of the metal notches that drew a vertical line between my breasts and descended in the cut below my navel. I would love to know that much of my skin was exposed by crisscrossed spans, sewn on the sides to hold the skirt that slipped down my legs with all the delicacy of pearly chiffon. But now, I could only feel uncomfortable with the neckline that bowed to highlight the volume of my breasts.My grandmother had a huge smile when she entered the room, and I forced a cheerful expression with all the naturalness that my scarce makeup could provide. She praised the red-heeled Prada shoes I chose and murmured to herself about my choice of hairstyle. The choice was not t
A few years later“Every night, while I was just a girl, my grandmother used to sit next to me in bed reciting for me the same story of the princess of the seas that I'm about to tell...”"Oh, no, mom," grumbled the little girl with red and thick hair, with the blanket partially covering her small body at that moment. "I don't want to hear stories of princesses again. And Ariel's story isn't even that cool."Laughing, his twin brother agreed:"It's true, Mom. The stories are repeated every night. In addition, it is practically impossible for a girl to give up her legs for a boy," he yawned and supported a hand below his chin, as if his argument did not leave gaps for refutation. "Tell me more about how you and Dad met."I couldn't help but smile. My story with Zachary had been full of ups and downs, tragedies and happiness, but he had also given me an invaluable gift. The love of two children who were not in our plans, but became the axis of our worlds.At that time, we had been togeth
In the summer, a television program decided to sponsor meetings between strangers, offering vacancies for women to apply in search of finding the love of their lives.The registrations took place through the site, anonymously and safely, until, if your file was interesting enough to draw attention, the production of the program would get in touch and make a dinner on its own. Generally, in closed places and with the entire technical team on the backs of couples, where mostly they passed from men and women between the ages of twenty and thirty.No one persuaded me to try the chance to find true love in a reality show. Not even Kendall, whose obsession with finding me a boyfriend was already going beyond the limits. She said that being stuck at home, just writing and crying, would not help me find the love that I said so much existed in my stories. But she ignored it when I said I wrote so I wouldn't have to look for someone for real. My friend didn't understand that literary disappoint
One year later"Do you mean that now you write real novels? "As asked one of the men in the circle of girls.I nodded, pushing my hair away to my shoulders." Some people like to live love, I prefer to write about it.His face changed from curiosity to admiration in a snap of fingers. I had trained that answer in front of the mirror several times before that one. First because my family didn't seem to understand what my profession required of me, and then because it was the easiest answer to give in an interview. Short, thick, and at the same time what they would like to hear. My agent would be proud."A toast to success! "Said the blonde next to me, raising the full cup."Do not mix alcohol with medicines," advised the man next to him, pulling the cup to his own lips.The blonde stretched out to take the cup back, but the man leaned back and ran away from his reach. When she got tired, she sat on the chair and blew the strands of hair that fell on her face. A single reddish strand sho
Kendall had plotted that date. I had no doubt."Severe," he hesitated.Containing the nervousness in my body, I asked:“How are your sisters?" Well," he replied, swallowing dry. "Doniya is still in rehabilitation, but Waliyha and Safaa are happy to return home. My cousins are fine, safe.My eyes easily wrinkled by the wide smile I threw at him.“I’m happy for you, Zee.He returned the smile, a little awkward. She looked around, into the empty room, at Kendall sneaking in with a box in hand, and watched as she helped me look for any object of sentimental value in the mess of shards and shards of glass."Are you definitely moving to your father's house? "His voice faltered a little.I shook my head, looking away."No, I'll be back to France next week.If a needle fell to the ground, we would all listen, so obscenely quiet that the environment became."Dd't you... make peace with your family? "He asked in a soft, soft tone.I shrugged."Eeven if I still hated them, I wouldn't have much
The doorman greeted me as soon as I passed the family concierge and let Kendall drag my chair. I had never thrown more than one look at the ramp passage that went up to the floors, always running through the steps of the main staircase, but now, it was that path I needed to take.I entered my destroyed apartment turning the wheels of the chair with my own hands, because despite smiling, Kendall was pale and sweaty for taking me through the steep path. I didn't like to think that she felt she had an obligation to help me, and she did her best not to have to ask. But life is very different from the pink world when you lose the ability to be free, and depending on others is the only way to live.We don't even need a key to open the door, it was propped up, torn from its hinges. A police containment strip surrounded the room and fixed itself on the corners of the walls, at that moment filled by the cardboard boxes with things stored. The windows no longer had glass, the pots formed a dang
Six months laterI was told that if it weren't for a miserable brain activity, I would have died the first time my heart stopped beating.Six months earlier, after twenty-eight hours of kidnapping, I was admitted to the emergency room with clinical death, and the doctors brought me back. Part of me was already dead, while the other fought for another breath of life. I didn't see the light, nor any relatives who died a long time ago. I just died. More than once.The shots that hit my body charged their price. The one in my chest lodged between two of my ribs attached to the sternum, but did not hit my heart. On the other hand, the one in my spine had the same impact as a hammering in my bones; dragging and compressing tissues and vertebrae into a cone effect.It was scary to regain consciousness with a complete medical team about me, and, even worse, outside finding out the diagnosis. My legs were heavy, asleep and uncomfortable, when I was told it was a spinal cord injury at T12 level.
The news didn't talk about anything else. The mistake was to believe that it was a terrorist attack. Mocking the news, Kendall stroked his burnt arm, feeling a sudden itching in him. There was proof that the intentions of that massacre involved more than political and religious interests.No one could ever say that she was not the kind of person who put his hand on the fire for a friend. She put her whole arm for Mila! And if he would throw himself completely into a fire for Tristan. Thinking about it brought him hilarious pleasure, and ended up having to fight against the hysterical laughter that floated in his throat. I was already more than crazy just for all that damn wait.He didn't realize he fell asleep until he heard someone calling her softly. He swore to have heard Tristan's voice, but when he raised his head from the hard and rough seats on which he leaned, he realized that another man stood on the door frame of the open.Stefan Turner seemed more dejected than usual. The h
Have you ever had the feeling of not being useful to the world?Did you ever feel that no matter how good your intentions to people were, nothing seemed like enough? Did you feel that you could disappear, even in front of a crowd, and no one would worry about finding you? Have you ever thought how wonderful it would be to live the world that exists only inside your head? That reality only served to overshadow the brightness of your dreams?Because Kendall Reedy would have an affirmative answer to all these questions.I couldn't complain about the friends I had, but if I were to take into account all the years I had taken to meet those people who received her as a family, I would die regretting the terrible family life I had.She was the youngest daughter among many brothers. The only one who cared about the vices and consequences acquired by the parents, both detached from the behaviors acceptable to society. I paid to keep them alive, away from debts with trafficking or loans with ma
I heard the sirens, the well-known friction of wheels moving over the floor, lights flashing red and blue. However, I wanted to be able to say that I didn't need care. That I didn't feel the pain anymore. But she returned, this time, straight into my heart, when the stretcher passed me and supported a large body carried by two police officers who wore black helmets. Zachary was raised, unconscious and bathed in blood, practically faint.I couldn't see where all that blood came from, especially because my attention was called to the police officers who were returning from the open door, pulling the injured mobsters in tight handcuffs. Among those who wore dark vests and helmets with the acronyms of the FBI, I recognized the robust figure of Dennis, Zachary's co-worker.The policeman pulled with unnecessary brutality a person smaller than him, covered by black robes and with an arrogant air in his footsteps. When the person raised his head and found me being immobilized by the team of f