The sky is a deep blue with touches of clear gray clouds. Sun rays appear intermittently warm but not hot, reflecting the golden and red colors of the trees, and bringing back an old memory to my mind.
A light cold air seeps through the car window gap, gently stinging my face loud music echoes in the air, belonging to my mother's favorite song which she never tires of although it's somewhat beautiful, it doesn't match the rhythm of the car lacking the speed, the speed and not the slowness with which my mother drives You would think you're the slowest thing in the world.
I need the rhythm of death to get rid of all the pain, from the past that pushed my mother and me to flee and head to Rome Everyone who heard this word was transported to an infinite number of beautiful things, but it was the hell I would sink into.
The car's wheels stopped, the music stopped, and my breaths did too My mother turned her head towards me, gave me a serious look, and said, "Dear Emma, we've arrived at the starting point of our life in Rome. Let's hope for a better life."
I nodded in response and smiled at her gently. I opened the car door and got out, took out the simple luggage, while my eyes wandered to contemplate the place In my life, I'd heard about palaces but never seen one. I never saw a beautiful and elegant palace like the one in front of me. What grandeur is this, what power could afford such a palace?
I opened the car door and got out, seeing my mother carrying two bags and leaving one for me. She called me, reminding me to lock the car and follow her. She walked first, and I followed her with my steps, my eyes lost in the surroundings, the beautiful garden of the house.
My mother stopped at the door and waited a bit until it opened by itself, as if I were in one of the American movies that depict the life of the rich. We entered, and how beautiful it was! I've never seen such sparkle in my life. Damn, I feel so out of place.
A woman appeared from nowhere, greeted us with a smile, and continued talking to my mother, pointing to the kitchen for her to start work. We were two, my mother and I, not here to live like princesses in this palace, but as servants.
My mother went to the kitchen, and I dragged my feet to the servants' room. My mother and I would share it; at least there's a roof to protect my head from the rain, and I'll have a pillow to cry on in silence, right?
After knowing the room I'd be staying in, I arranged my belongings and books. I sat on the bed, lost in thought, thinking of a crazy idea to break the boredom, and it occurred to me to go out and meet an old friend in Rome.
I changed into black, loose clothes, and white shoes with a black butterfly symbol. I headed to leave through the back door for servants, my legs leading me to the lively neighborhoods of Rome, specifically Via del Corso street, which stretches from Piazza Venezia to Piazza Porta Pia.
There are restaurants, shops, and cafes, and shining lights that might blind you with their brilliance. People of different ages and nationalities might meet here, even aliens, and you wouldn't be surprised. Everyone is carrying shopping bags, talking, and laughing, as if everyone has just started their day.
But I don't like this street; yes, I came here, but it's not my goal, all this brilliance. I turned into a narrow, dark alley, walked to the end, and stopped at the entrance of a small store. I pushed the door and entered; a young man with thick black hair faced me, his back turned.
The young man said, "Sorry, the café is closed." He turned his body, our eyes met, and there was a shiver, a heartbeat, and eyes that spoke of reproach and longing before the tongue did. He dropped his hands, and a glass cup fell to the ground, shattering into pieces, but he didn't care, and his tongue spoke in surprise and wonder, "Is that... Emma?"
I smiled and nodded, and he quickly rushed towards me, embracing me, muttering unbelievably, as if he saw the dead walking. I hit his shoulder because I was choking from his hug, and he understood, backing away to leave space between us.
Our eyes met again, I smiled, took out my phone, tapped on it, and pointed the screen at him, "Hey, stupid James, I've missed you." He laughed loudly and replied, "I thought I wouldn't see you again until we meet in hell."
I tapped my phone again and directed the screen at him, "I've come back for our promise." "Ah, I remember, but it's still early to fulfill that promise." I walked past him, sat on a chair, ignoring his words, because James is my dear friend who is five years older than me, and despite his beautiful qualities, he's a big talker.
I met him in a life where a minute wouldn't pass without hearing a thousand words from him, so the best solution is to ignore. I sat, relaxed my back, wanted to order a cup of coffee or something drinkable, but he's quick-witt
James remembered details about people even after years, and that's what I love about him. "So, where are you staying? I remember you and your mom don't have a house here." I tapped on my phone to answer him: "Yes, you're right, we don't own a house here in Rome, but my mom found a job at one of the rich people's houses, so we're staying there temporarily." "I wonder why your mom agreed to come back here? Didn't she want to leave this city without looking back?" I stopped writing because I didn't know the answer, as my mom is unpredictable and always wanted to forget the memories she had in this city. I tapped on my phone again: "I really don't know, James. One day she came to me and said, 'Emma, let's go back to Rome.'" He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with happiness: "It seems your mom hasn't changed; she's still unpredictable." "Yeah... she hasn't changed." James told me about his days without me and how silly he was. Who falls in love with an old lady just because she brought him some cake? James has always been a sweet guy with black hair and a light beard, fair skin, and sleepy eyes. He's always been silly and loved speed, just like me. He didn't do well in his studies, but he excelled at getting me into trouble. I wanted to tell him this, but I couldn't. My voice was taken away from me. It was God's will, and I've accepted it without complaint. When I need to communicate with others, I use my phone. It's a simple thing that won't hinder me from achieving anything.
James's tap on my phone brought me back to reality: "Emma, I want to invite you somewhere you'll love. I'm sure of it." I nodded with a smile on my face, knowing he always tries to make me happy. "I'll send you the place and time we'll meet, okay?" I bid James farewell, took my phone, and left the café. I walked with the intention of leaving this alley. The street lamps lit the way dimly, and raindrops started to fall. A black cat ran past me, scared of getting wet. I wanted to laugh at its silly appearance, but my ears picked up unclear whispers and the sound of footsteps. I stopped, feeling my heart racing and my mind flooded with fears. I was scared but curious, so I moved towards the sound. In a small turn, I stopped, spying on some people standing, blocking my view with their backs. But when one of them moved, I saw a young man lying on the ground, his clothes stained with blood. Bruises on his face, and silver hair wet with rain, he looked like a corpse that hadn't decomposed yet. I wondered: Is he dead? Or is he just about to lose his breath? The emotional part of me wanted to save him, but the rational part told me how a mute girl like me, thin and short, could stand against five big men with sticks in their hands. Have you gone crazy, Emma? But as I've always known, the foolish part of me always wins. I took out my phone, turned on the police siren, and hid behind a trash can. I peeked at them, and within minutes, they were shaking and running away, leaving the injured young man. I rushed to him, checking on his condition. His leg was bleeding, and his chest seemed to be stabbed with a knife. The bruises were all over his body. I wanted to carry him away, but his body was huge and heavy, and I couldn't. "You, girl, don't take me to a hospital." He whispered near my ear, his voice weak and tired. Where's your logic, man? You look like a corpse. Where do you want me to take you, to a cemetery? Thank your God I can't talk. I nodded, took out my phone to text James. ~ James, I'm in the alley near your café. Please come, I need help moving a body. ~ I leaned against the wall, making sure he didn't lose consciousness. I heard my phone ring, and it was James. I answered to hear him shouting. "You monkey, a body! Emma, you arrived in Rome and started with a body. Ah, you!" Mercy, God, have mercy! Why am I like a magnet for trouble? I cut the line to write him a clearer message: "It's not like that, he's almost a corpse. Just come and help me." I sat waiting, and to pass the time, I pointed my phone's screen at the silly guy's face. "What's your name?" He barely opened his sleepy eyes and seemed not to read what I wrote well. I excused him; he was in a terrible state. I put my phone back in my pocket to hear his voice. "Oliver Cabal... And you?" I was surprised he answered, so I quickly tapped on my phone to write my name. "Emma Russo."