Status: Sequel :)
The Reason
Crossword Puzzle
“What you mean?” – Professor Haner looks at me, apparently nervous, frowning, looking away for his book that he is holding and with his mouth opened waiting a single word to come out. Something that can justify his statement. I remember the note of this morning, what makes me walk back bit by bit, never taking my eyes of him, trying to understand why he said that. However, I feel my body crashing in other body, what makes me tremble with fright. I feel my head round and round with so much information that is crossing my mind at this moment and I look back quickly. I face, once again, Professor Baker, also a little surprised. He smiles at me but I couldn’t help but hide the fear that is invading my chest. I look at them for a few seconds and start running down the hall, crashing on everyone who cross my way, until I find the door to way out.
I confess that it seems I lose my mind with all this, losing track where I am, who I am, what is happening. I stop for some minutes to regain breath, leaning myself in the wall, resting my hands on my legs. I take some deep breaths to try to understand what’s wrong with me. Something happened or something will happen very soon and I can’t handle with this. I walk along these crowded streets, going though people as if I were invisible and always fixing my gaze on the ground to not have to face them. I think deeply what is happening. Someone is watching me and I don’t know who it is. Someone is with me, but I don’t know who it is. How long is he/she doing this? How long is he/she watching me? Am I in danger?
Look, there! The Bus. Maybe, I can come there at time.
***
I’m coming home, walking carefully to avoid stepping on the clothes that I have scattered on the ground. Don’t be surprised about this clutter in my house. Believe me, inside I’m ever worst. I put my stuff on the couch, taking out the packet of cigarettes from my bag, and also the lighter. I take a cigarette, light it, and go to the balcony. I don’t understand why I’m going to the balcony. It seems I’m being controlled. It’s like something is pushing me to go there. I watch people walking along the street. Some of them look at me but I look away to avoid absorbing their opinion on my mind. Down the street, there’s a tattoo store. I thought, a lot time, to get one tattoo or more but… all my body is full of signs of pain. I don’t have space of more signs. But I want to change something on my body. And I tattoo would give me more color, more life. At least physically. My eyes are still stuck in that door until something caught my attention.
The note Professor Baker gave to me this morning.
I’m still without courage to read it but I need to know what’s going here. I erased the cigarette and I’m coming back to the living room. I close the window of the balcony and look for a few seconds to the book where the note is. My hands are cold but also sweaty. My body is heavier than normal and I’m feeling a little bit unbalanced. I walk towards to couch, very slowly, taking the book like it was something of another world, like it was something very delicate and odd.
I open it, defoliating it slowly until I find the note, still folded in two. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and, at the same time, open the note. Unlike the attitude I had had getting the book, this time I open my eyes quickly, finding, in the note, something unexpected and disturbing.
‘People don’t see you ____ you wish they see you.
But they also don’t see you ____ you think they see you.
You’re so much and you think you’re so _____.
You can think that (?) don’t notice you…
You’re wrong.
9. ECC’
The time stops. The silence invades my house. Just an alive body is present but it feels like dead. Me. sitting in the couch being unable to move myself, taking a note with words and codes that I can’t find the meaning. I read it again and again, trying to put in my mind each written and missing word. What number 9 means? The letters ‘ECC’? Are they acronyms? A name? Which words are missing? Or are words really missing? That question mark… it can be the person who writes me this. Someone is watching me… why is the sentence ‘don’t notice’ blacker than the rest? So many question and I’m without answers. At least I had someone here with me to help me. Someone I trust. Someone I could call friend.
My phone is ringing. I look, scared, at my bag, opening it slowly and taking out my phone of there in the same way. I sigh of relief seeing it’s my mother. I talk to her for some minutes, trying not to show her I’m nervous but she knows me so well to know something is wrong with me. I can’t tell her the truth, of course. I lie to her saying I got an F on the History and American Culture test, when the truth is I got an A. My mother, apparently, believes in my stupid excuse and she tries to calm me down saying in the next test I’ll get an A. Sure.
I hang up the call and I’m concentrated in the note again, just reading it and making words games or doing searches on the internet. It’s 9pm. I’m feeling hungry. I go to the kitchen. I open the fridge and take of there the milk. My dinner will be cereals with milk. I’m not feeling okay to spend time cooking much less to washing up. When I come back to the living room, I hear a huge bang coming of the street. My problems are enough but I decide to check what’s happening though the balcony. I can hear my old neighbors screaming as they were asking for help. I’m feeling so confuse and scared… I don’t know what to do. I come back to the living room once again, closing quickly the window and I run towards the couch where I sit and I take my phone to call the police. But they don’t give me time. I’m hearing, faintly, the police sirens approaching. I breathe of relief. I get up of the couch and lock the door, turning off the lights just leaving only the lights of the lamps on. A huge sadness invades my chest, without a justification, and I start crying intensely. I’m feeling lost, increasingly alone and I don’t know what to do.
*PUM, PUM, PUM*
Somebody is knocking the door with violence. I, unconsciously, cringe myself on the couch like a helpless child.
“Open the door! I beg you. Open the fucking door! I know you’re there.” – A male voice is evident although is muffled. I walk towards the door, leaning my ear on it at the same time that he’s screaming to me to open the door. I took a deep breath and, I can’t understand why, I open the door. I see a man, wearing black clothes, hooded, coming inside my house. – “Close the fucking door and lock it. Quickly! Do what I’m saying!” – I do what he asks me, trying to control nervousness. My entire body is shaking and I can’t even lock the door. I look at him with fear and he runs towards me, taking the keys out of my hand, pushing me over the couch and lock the door. He begins walking from one side to the other, rubbing his hands in his head in act of desperation. I remain sitting on the couch, refusing to look at him and thinking of what more could happen to me today. The nervous seized me and I feel my eyes fill with tears and my throat hurts as if I were suffocating. I can’t control my tears for longer and they being running down my face. I feel that man approaching me hastily. He sits next to me and grabbed my arm, making me look at him. I’m staring at him, with some trepidation, wiping the tears from my face. He takes the hood that hid his face and for the first time I can look at face. Actually, he is just a bit older than me. His hazel eyes meet mine in a different way.
“I beg you… let me stay here tonight.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Matt.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you… it’s a long story. I just ask you to trust me and let me stay here just tonight. Please…”
“And if the cops come here? I don’t know… to ask if I saw you or…”
“Yeah…” – He gets up and starts to take his clothes off, putting them in the ground in the middle of mine. –
“They should come here… so, I want them to think I’m your boyfriend, okay?”
“Are you crazy? I can’t do this! And stop taking your clothes off.”
“Don’t make me be aggressive with you, okay? Do what I’m asking, please…” – He looks at me with a rude way. I look at him and smile sadly, yielding to his request. He sits next to me, this time just with his boxers, resting his elbows in his legs, covering his face with the hands. He takes deep breaths trying to calm himself down while I try to pull away from him slowly. He understands that I’m trying to run away and grab my hand. – “What’s your name?”
“Natasha.”
“Natasha, thank y-” – someone knocks the door, stopping Matt’s speech. I startle, holding his hand tightly. He looks at me, fondling my cheek with his free hand. – “You don’t need to do anything… go to your bedroom and feign you’re sleeping. I can handle with this.”
“And if they find out?”
“They won’t find out. Now, go.”
“Police. Open the door! We just want to ask you some questions.” – I agree with him, nodding and smiling at him, while he’s wiping the tears from my face with his long fingers. I run to my bedroom, quickly, taking Matt’s clothes with me. Matt approaches to the door, unlocking it, always looking at me. I arrive at my bedroom, always praying they won’t take him with them. I don’t know what he’s doing here neither the reason they are looking for him but I can imagine. I just ask to Heaven to make justice, leaving him here… with me. Even I don’t know him; I believe he’s not guilty. I believe he has a strong reason to do what he did. I hear the cops in the living room talking with Matt but I can’t understand a word they are saying. I put Matt’s clothes in the bottom of my closet. I take my clothes off, staying just with my underwear and I lie down on my bed, pretending I’m sleeping. I can hear some steps. Someone is approaching the bedroom. I cover my head with the blanket at the same time I try not to cry once again. Someone open the door.
“You guys fight?”
“Yeah… I mean… just with words. You know, women! I think she’s sleeping.”
“Can we come in just to check if only your girlfriend is in there?”
“Sure. But don’t wake her up, okay? I don’t wanna argue with her again much less because there are cops in our house.”
“We’ll try.” – I feel somebody approaching me and lifting the blanket. They watching me for a few seconds and they cover me again. In my mind, I’m screaming for all this get an end but I’m fighting to control myself and still quiet. The cops leave the bedroom with Matt. I stay pretending I’m sleeping, hearing them asking questions to Matt. The door is closed. I feel someone coming to the bedroom. I close my eyes once again this time in a strong way when I hear the door being opened. A body approaches, sitting next to me, folding my hair. I feel confidence and I open my eyes and see Matt smiling at me.
“Thank you, Natasha.”
“Will they come back?”
“I don’t think so, don’t worry.”
“Good. Can you explain me now what happened?”
“It’s late… I promise tomorrow I explain everything to you. It’s the least I can do after all you’re doing to me.”
“Jesus, it’s being a day…”
“Why you’re saying this?”
“Are you really asking why?”
“Yeah!” – Matt laughs and looks around, probably looking at all the mass in my bedroom and, of course, having in mind the mass in the living room. – “You’re living here alone?”
“Yeah… apparently, yeah.”
I confess that it seems I lose my mind with all this, losing track where I am, who I am, what is happening. I stop for some minutes to regain breath, leaning myself in the wall, resting my hands on my legs. I take some deep breaths to try to understand what’s wrong with me. Something happened or something will happen very soon and I can’t handle with this. I walk along these crowded streets, going though people as if I were invisible and always fixing my gaze on the ground to not have to face them. I think deeply what is happening. Someone is watching me and I don’t know who it is. Someone is with me, but I don’t know who it is. How long is he/she doing this? How long is he/she watching me? Am I in danger?
Look, there! The Bus. Maybe, I can come there at time.
***
I’m coming home, walking carefully to avoid stepping on the clothes that I have scattered on the ground. Don’t be surprised about this clutter in my house. Believe me, inside I’m ever worst. I put my stuff on the couch, taking out the packet of cigarettes from my bag, and also the lighter. I take a cigarette, light it, and go to the balcony. I don’t understand why I’m going to the balcony. It seems I’m being controlled. It’s like something is pushing me to go there. I watch people walking along the street. Some of them look at me but I look away to avoid absorbing their opinion on my mind. Down the street, there’s a tattoo store. I thought, a lot time, to get one tattoo or more but… all my body is full of signs of pain. I don’t have space of more signs. But I want to change something on my body. And I tattoo would give me more color, more life. At least physically. My eyes are still stuck in that door until something caught my attention.
The note Professor Baker gave to me this morning.
I’m still without courage to read it but I need to know what’s going here. I erased the cigarette and I’m coming back to the living room. I close the window of the balcony and look for a few seconds to the book where the note is. My hands are cold but also sweaty. My body is heavier than normal and I’m feeling a little bit unbalanced. I walk towards to couch, very slowly, taking the book like it was something of another world, like it was something very delicate and odd.
I open it, defoliating it slowly until I find the note, still folded in two. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and, at the same time, open the note. Unlike the attitude I had had getting the book, this time I open my eyes quickly, finding, in the note, something unexpected and disturbing.
‘People don’t see you ____ you wish they see you.
But they also don’t see you ____ you think they see you.
You’re so much and you think you’re so _____.
You can think that (?) don’t notice you…
You’re wrong.
9. ECC’
The time stops. The silence invades my house. Just an alive body is present but it feels like dead. Me. sitting in the couch being unable to move myself, taking a note with words and codes that I can’t find the meaning. I read it again and again, trying to put in my mind each written and missing word. What number 9 means? The letters ‘ECC’? Are they acronyms? A name? Which words are missing? Or are words really missing? That question mark… it can be the person who writes me this. Someone is watching me… why is the sentence ‘don’t notice’ blacker than the rest? So many question and I’m without answers. At least I had someone here with me to help me. Someone I trust. Someone I could call friend.
My phone is ringing. I look, scared, at my bag, opening it slowly and taking out my phone of there in the same way. I sigh of relief seeing it’s my mother. I talk to her for some minutes, trying not to show her I’m nervous but she knows me so well to know something is wrong with me. I can’t tell her the truth, of course. I lie to her saying I got an F on the History and American Culture test, when the truth is I got an A. My mother, apparently, believes in my stupid excuse and she tries to calm me down saying in the next test I’ll get an A. Sure.
I hang up the call and I’m concentrated in the note again, just reading it and making words games or doing searches on the internet. It’s 9pm. I’m feeling hungry. I go to the kitchen. I open the fridge and take of there the milk. My dinner will be cereals with milk. I’m not feeling okay to spend time cooking much less to washing up. When I come back to the living room, I hear a huge bang coming of the street. My problems are enough but I decide to check what’s happening though the balcony. I can hear my old neighbors screaming as they were asking for help. I’m feeling so confuse and scared… I don’t know what to do. I come back to the living room once again, closing quickly the window and I run towards the couch where I sit and I take my phone to call the police. But they don’t give me time. I’m hearing, faintly, the police sirens approaching. I breathe of relief. I get up of the couch and lock the door, turning off the lights just leaving only the lights of the lamps on. A huge sadness invades my chest, without a justification, and I start crying intensely. I’m feeling lost, increasingly alone and I don’t know what to do.
*PUM, PUM, PUM*
Somebody is knocking the door with violence. I, unconsciously, cringe myself on the couch like a helpless child.
“Open the door! I beg you. Open the fucking door! I know you’re there.” – A male voice is evident although is muffled. I walk towards the door, leaning my ear on it at the same time that he’s screaming to me to open the door. I took a deep breath and, I can’t understand why, I open the door. I see a man, wearing black clothes, hooded, coming inside my house. – “Close the fucking door and lock it. Quickly! Do what I’m saying!” – I do what he asks me, trying to control nervousness. My entire body is shaking and I can’t even lock the door. I look at him with fear and he runs towards me, taking the keys out of my hand, pushing me over the couch and lock the door. He begins walking from one side to the other, rubbing his hands in his head in act of desperation. I remain sitting on the couch, refusing to look at him and thinking of what more could happen to me today. The nervous seized me and I feel my eyes fill with tears and my throat hurts as if I were suffocating. I can’t control my tears for longer and they being running down my face. I feel that man approaching me hastily. He sits next to me and grabbed my arm, making me look at him. I’m staring at him, with some trepidation, wiping the tears from my face. He takes the hood that hid his face and for the first time I can look at face. Actually, he is just a bit older than me. His hazel eyes meet mine in a different way.
“I beg you… let me stay here tonight.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Matt.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you… it’s a long story. I just ask you to trust me and let me stay here just tonight. Please…”
“And if the cops come here? I don’t know… to ask if I saw you or…”
“Yeah…” – He gets up and starts to take his clothes off, putting them in the ground in the middle of mine. –
“They should come here… so, I want them to think I’m your boyfriend, okay?”
“Are you crazy? I can’t do this! And stop taking your clothes off.”
“Don’t make me be aggressive with you, okay? Do what I’m asking, please…” – He looks at me with a rude way. I look at him and smile sadly, yielding to his request. He sits next to me, this time just with his boxers, resting his elbows in his legs, covering his face with the hands. He takes deep breaths trying to calm himself down while I try to pull away from him slowly. He understands that I’m trying to run away and grab my hand. – “What’s your name?”
“Natasha.”
“Natasha, thank y-” – someone knocks the door, stopping Matt’s speech. I startle, holding his hand tightly. He looks at me, fondling my cheek with his free hand. – “You don’t need to do anything… go to your bedroom and feign you’re sleeping. I can handle with this.”
“And if they find out?”
“They won’t find out. Now, go.”
“Police. Open the door! We just want to ask you some questions.” – I agree with him, nodding and smiling at him, while he’s wiping the tears from my face with his long fingers. I run to my bedroom, quickly, taking Matt’s clothes with me. Matt approaches to the door, unlocking it, always looking at me. I arrive at my bedroom, always praying they won’t take him with them. I don’t know what he’s doing here neither the reason they are looking for him but I can imagine. I just ask to Heaven to make justice, leaving him here… with me. Even I don’t know him; I believe he’s not guilty. I believe he has a strong reason to do what he did. I hear the cops in the living room talking with Matt but I can’t understand a word they are saying. I put Matt’s clothes in the bottom of my closet. I take my clothes off, staying just with my underwear and I lie down on my bed, pretending I’m sleeping. I can hear some steps. Someone is approaching the bedroom. I cover my head with the blanket at the same time I try not to cry once again. Someone open the door.
“You guys fight?”
“Yeah… I mean… just with words. You know, women! I think she’s sleeping.”
“Can we come in just to check if only your girlfriend is in there?”
“Sure. But don’t wake her up, okay? I don’t wanna argue with her again much less because there are cops in our house.”
“We’ll try.” – I feel somebody approaching me and lifting the blanket. They watching me for a few seconds and they cover me again. In my mind, I’m screaming for all this get an end but I’m fighting to control myself and still quiet. The cops leave the bedroom with Matt. I stay pretending I’m sleeping, hearing them asking questions to Matt. The door is closed. I feel someone coming to the bedroom. I close my eyes once again this time in a strong way when I hear the door being opened. A body approaches, sitting next to me, folding my hair. I feel confidence and I open my eyes and see Matt smiling at me.
“Thank you, Natasha.”
“Will they come back?”
“I don’t think so, don’t worry.”
“Good. Can you explain me now what happened?”
“It’s late… I promise tomorrow I explain everything to you. It’s the least I can do after all you’re doing to me.”
“Jesus, it’s being a day…”
“Why you’re saying this?”
“Are you really asking why?”
“Yeah!” – Matt laughs and looks around, probably looking at all the mass in my bedroom and, of course, having in mind the mass in the living room. – “You’re living here alone?”
“Yeah… apparently, yeah.”