Dark souls

For adults, a dream is a kind of film that takes place in the mind during sleep, but for many others it can also indicate hope: you may dream of wanting to be a doctor when you grow up. Each of us dreams, and dreams tend to be funny at times, although the images, sounds and words in the dream may have some meaning. Then, there are people who have the dream of becoming famous one day, or of buying a nice car, or a house. Those are usually daydreams, waiting to figure out what you want to do when you grow up. I thought I belonged to the third category, or at least at school until a few years before, things worked like this: I always hated when I was asked to read; it seemed to me that the letters moved by themselves, changing places at the only purpose of annoying me! Making others understand how difficult school was for me was as difficult as taking lessons. For the teachers I was Leila the lazy, Leila who doesn't want to ... only upon my arrival at the middle school someone noticed me:  my literature teacher Rossini and my dyslexia was discovered. All that time, my traveling with open eyes, the fact that attention escaped me in the blink of an eye, was my fault. My mother Laura worked in a retirement home, when she came back from shift, exhausted, she made her usual "Study, work hard" recommendations, hoping that by now, at seventeen, there was no longer a need to check books and notebooks, or to question me, as she did before, since by now I should have been on the threshold of autonomy. It wasn't easy, I realized, for her to do everything on her own: work, home, daughter. Even though she didn't fully understand me, I admired her. My father had left her for another woman who he had rebuilt a family with. He took me to the beach, I went to him for a few weekends, but in the end I was the one who had the crumbs left: a new wife and a small child took up most of his time. I was the one who, according to him, had to be understanding and mature, I had to know that stories end, that in today's society there are many types of families, which did not mean receiving less affection ... bla bla bla ... cause then it was me that at school made that goose Isabella Nuoro laugh at the back for being the "loser" with the devastated family and being able to buy me nothing but very few new clothes or shoes and at low prices. On the other hand, I was not the perfect daughter that he dreamed of: I was not a model student and I often did not follow the rules. For me, a NO more often than not meant suffocating day after day. My father, on the other hand, loved rigor and wanted a son to become someone.  Cherry on the cake? I had been drawing since I was a child and, often, out of the need to escape, to be who I was not, I took refuge in art and this was how the character of Tytanium, a warrior princess, was born. She, unlike me, was tall and slender, while I was barely six feet tall; she had long silky blonde hair, I had a dark blonde bob. But above all she was strong, just like titanium she had acquired a power that did not allow her to be scratched by anything. How had she acquired it? Following a spill of laboratory chemicals. What's the point? The point is that I knew I was good at what I did: drawing relaxed me, my mind traveled and I was fine. I couldn't stay focused on the books and my brain was traveling in search of an imaginary world, where I am who I wanted to be, everywhere, in freedom. In front of me I saw the characters take shape, talk, act, just as if I were inside my personal "video game". My room, with its candid white walls and covered with boards, became my refuge. It wasn't really a girl's room: I'd rather say it was neutral, without a lot of feminine frills like make-up, perfumes etc. Unfortunately, every time my mother came in with the pile of ironed clothes and saw me bent over my sketchbook, she started her lecture. «Leila, are you still wasting your time with those drawings? Honey, you need to think about your future, study and graduate. You can't get a job with them. Get your feet back to the real world and stop standing with your head in the clouds. " The only ones I was comfortable with were my cat Nero and my friend Marco. The first was a large five-pound black cat, which, curled up on my bed, silently looked at me with his big yellow eyes. We respected our mutual spaces, crossing the border only when he felt like being cuddled, witnessing a world that belonged only to him, because no one else saw what he saw in terms of lights and presences. Marco was my childhood friend: he often helped me with my homework and was interested in my hobby. In fact, he even gave me some tips for stories. I loved him because since childhood he had never judged me as "weird", as I didn't do it with him, despite the glasses and the reputation of a nerd. Neither of us stood out in popularity and that is why we were very similar. We watched films together, he read a lot and then told me the plot of the last book. He knew practically everything about me that he could say with certainty that we could have been brother and sister. At school I had made friends with a few girls, but while those were friendships that would end with the end of high school, the one with Marco I knew for sure was destined to last forever. Here I am. Sitting on the bed with my notebook on my knees and Nero curled up at the foot of the bed sleeping peacefully. My hand followed the pencil sketch, running over it with a black marker. It was the palace of Princess Tytanium: an immense crystal tower on a pyramidal base and made of squares placed one on top of the other, becoming smaller and smaller. A place from where you can observe the world, trying to imagine beyond the horizon, in the vast infinity that escapes the eyes. Sure, I could have designed a wall, but it would have been too obvious: the princess was the protector of frailties and she didn't need to protect herself in a fortress. Crystal is better, on which one's own image and that of what surrounds us outside are reflected in absolute transparency. A knock on the window distracted me from what I was doing. Nero woke up, stretched on his paws in front of him and, after yawning, went back to sleep. "Marco, what are you doing here?" I told him from the window. I didn't remember we were supposed to meet. He raised his face and I saw a purple bruise around his left eye, roughly reduced to a bull's eye. "My parents will kill me if they see me like this ... can I postpone the moment of confrontation staying with you?" I ran to open it and we went back to my room. "But what happened?" "I didn't make him copy the report from the book we were supposed to read." He sighed. "I’m alive only because after having punched me, his father came to get him and he was quite mad at him." Dario Luzzi, the typical bully present in all high schools and which the school would gladly do without: all smoke represented by the muscles he boasts by doing gymnastics, but in the pumpkin the total emptiness. At school the teachers couldn't stand him, apart from Mr. Monti, our physical education teacher. "Marco, I think you're old enough to defend yourself against guys like him ..." "Oh sure, he weighs twenty kilos and I can very well answer him!" He blurted out, offended. "People like him are worth nothing in comparison with you and you should overwhelm him with your intelligence ..." A message interrupted my speech. A message from Linda, my classmate. Linda had arrived that year, after moving to her father's new job in the local barracks and, after a bit of hesitation towards me, she had inserted me into her friendships, not the exclusives that think about makeup and clothes, of course, but that made me feel accepted. She liked me and that's enough for me. Hi, sorry if I tell you now, but my parents only gave me permission yesterday and I'm on the high seas… are you coming to my birthday party tonight? "Linda invites me to her birthday party tonight." I said placing the phone on the bed. "What are you doing? You go there?" "Well, I know her but I don't like being around a lot of snobbish guys I don't know." I snorted. "I like to be quiet, you know." "Leila, I love you, you know, but that's why I have to push you to go to that party." "And why?" «Because high school will end soon and you have to open your horizons… you have to have fun and meet people. This room can't always be your glass ball protecting you. The world out there must be faced. " "Um," I frowned, since I'd never heard him speak like that, "you’re one to talk, you, a bookworm?" He looked embarrassed. "I'm just sorry you don't enjoy other friendships." "You know, right, that you and I are considered the" different "or, worse, the" losers "from middle school?" "The situation will never change if we don't make it change ... so now answer her, make yourself beautiful and go to that party!" I was baffled. All of a sudden it seemed to hear my mother. The clash with Dario must have traumatized him. I sighed. "But you come with me." "If Linda has no objection, that's fine." I sent a message. She answered me shortly after. Okay, bring Marco too. There was a problem: what could I have worn at a party, I was always sober in jeans and loose T-shirts, no confidence with elegant dresses. "I say you should wear a dress or a skirt." Marco pressed on. I was getting nervous and less and less wanting to go to that party. Then, I suddenly remembered that Aunt Rachele, my mother's younger sister, had left a denim skirt and black laminate top in her closet. "WOW!" Marco looked at me as if it were the first time when I returned to my room. "Please, I already feel uncomfortable ..." I groaned, looking at me. "Come on, I can't be surprised? You're so… well… feminine… pretty. " I blushed. "Now the make up." He followed. I had never put on any makeup. I took my mother's cosmetic bag from the bathroom. I snorted impatiently. "Well, I don't even know what colors to wear ..." "Well, you have green eyes, why don't you try dark eyeshadow?" With a brush I spread a little black eyeshadow on the eyelid. I had watched my mother do her makeup several times. I liked her. But I had never had the same enthusiasm about myself. I took the mascara and lengthened my lashes. My mother used to say that if you stand out your eyes, you shouldn't go overboard with her lips. I then chose a gloss of a delicate pink color. I brushed my hair and put on a yellow headband. "Well, Leila ..." Marco seemed to have no words. "Today you really impress." I raised my eyebrows unconvinced. "Don't overdo it now ..." He put his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look in the mirror and for the first time I felt beautiful. I was far from the usual untreated Leila. Was it really enough that little? I smiled. "Now we have to think about you." I said, looking at Homer Simpson's black T-shirt over a beer and slightly faded jeans. She took a questioning air. "I? What do you mean?" “Well, you made me dress like that and now it's your turn! I told you that I would only go there if you accompanied me. " "Er, yes, but I don't have any clothes to change her ..." he pointed out. "A shirt will be enough, here there is a shop at a good price not far away." "Yes, but I don't have the money to take it." "Do not worry." I reassured him by showing him my rechargeable card. "My dad just poured me some money… consider it your early birthday present." We went out and passed, a little later, in front of the clothing store; we stopped to take a look at the window and I showed him a cheap white shirt on the mannequin. It was simple, but nice. The saleswoman, a girl a little older than us, greeted us with kindness and, taking the shirt with the right size from the pile, handed it to Marco. It fit him very well, tight on his chest and flattened on either side of him. I had my taste. We left the shop and went to Linda's house. It was now almost the twilight of a late autumn. In the now leaden sky you could see a strip of red from the last yawn of the sun, before going to rest behind the horizon. Linda lived in an old pink terraced house surrounded by a large green garden. When I rang the bell, I realized how nervous I was - it was like feeling the wrong person in the wrong place. I was just hoping that I had no reason to be ashamed during the evening. Marco seemed to understand my discomfort, which he most likely shared with me, because he put my arm around me. Linda opened the door: she was radiant with bright eyes, dark hair glistening with freshly straightened and lips painted a bright red. She was wearing a rather skimpy blue dress that highlighted her long legs. "Hey guys, welcome!" She stepped aside to let us pass. "Leila, you are a bomb!" She exclaimed. "I've never seen you like this!" But her tranquility did not last long, because, out of the corner of my eye, I saw that she was there too. Yeah. The unbearable Isabella. I don't know why I was surprised that she was invited, as she was the most popular girl at school. She approached with the two "friends" closest to her: Elisa and Moira. "Oh, here's Leila ..." she taunted Me, approaching. She looked at me better. "But, you are cute ... say a bit, have you decided to change your look to get closer to your imaginary friend?" "What imaginary friend?" "Come on, everyone knows that you spend your days locked in your room drawing and talking with the ghostly princess about whom you invent your pathetic stories." As she said that, she had raised her voice on purpose. Her "henchmen" giggled. There were about ten of our classmates. They turned to look at me, causing dead silence to fall into the room. I felt a lump in my throat as I tried to fight back the tears. No. They didn't deserve my pain. They didn't deserve to have me feel defeated. I sniffed at her, swallowed, and, looking into her eyes, smiled. "You know, it's curious ... to what do I owe your great interest in me, so great that you even know my hobby?" I knew immediately that I had given the right answer. Her sarcasm died on her lips and she walked away. I immediately felt a hand on my shoulder. Marco. "Excellent response, Ruffin, you dampened it immediately." He had called me by surname, as we did when we were thinking about important things. And he promptly added, "Now let's get something to eat and have fun." We were in a very spacious atrium, with two tables laden with all kinds of snacks. The curtains, decorated with soft blue lilies, danced softly, caressed by the gentle breeze that entered two windows. While we were getting some pizzas, the doorbell rang. I noticed three guys I hadn't seen: one was tall, thin, but the muscles under the tight T-shirt suggested he was an athletic boy. The tufts of blond hair fell on his temples and a little on his forehead. I found myself watching him, totally enchanted. When his blue eyes fell on mine, I felt a strange sensation in my stomach. The two boys with him were twin brothers, both dark-haired and dark-eyed; two drops of water. Hi, Manuel." She greeted Linda, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She did the same with the two twins, who were called Matteo and Mario. I turned and saw Marco chatting with Linda's brother, Luca, a little older than us. Linda walked over and offered me a glass of red liquid. "What's this?" I asked, frowning. “Don't worry, it's ginger with just a drop of prosecco. It won't do anything to you. " She reassured me with a wink. I trusted and swallowed it. The liquid ran like a fire down his throat to his stomach.  It was strong, very strong. Too much for me. I coughed. "But this doesn't seem like just prosecco to me." I groaned. "There was also some Campari, but a spritz has never killed anyone." Linda justified herself. Maybe, but I was certainly not used to drinking alcohol. Shortly after, in fact, I felt a circle in my head and it seemed to me that the room was turning. I decided to go out and get a breath of fresh air. I went out through the back door, which opened onto the larger part of the garden. I cursed Linda for giving me that drink by lying to me, and against Marco for convincing me to go to that party. I wasn't having fun at all. Since I arrived it had been one humiliation after another. "Hey beautiful," I heard a male voice behind me that startled me, "what are you doing here all alone?" I turned around and saw two older boys, shining from the air who approached them laughing. I didn't know them. "You're pretty, very pretty." They had come so close that I could smell the acrid and nauseating smell of their breath. My stomach went into turmoil. One of them grabbed my arm. "Would you like to go to a more intimate place to get to know us better?" "No thanks. I'm going back now. " I refused, annoyed. "Couldn't you be nicer?" She did the other, getting nervous. I was beginning to be afraid. All of a sudden I felt a strange electricity go over me and the guy because he immediately let go of my arm, moaning. "Hey, I felt a jolt!" He was about to approach again when another boy's voice stopped him. "All right here?" He made room for the cold light from the street lamp. It was Manuel. "Yes, all right. I felt dizzy. " I justified myself, embarrassed. "Listen, why don't we go inside?" He proposed to me with a sweet smile. "Linda's brother is going to entertain us with karaoke." "Good idea." I agreed, relieved. He touched my shoulder with one hand as she accompanied me. I felt a shiver. "Thanks." I murmured. "I'm Manuel." He introduced himself, holding out her hand to me.  He shook it. "And I'm Leila, pleased." He smiled again. He was really cool. The half-light tinted his eyes with onyx, while her skin was a lunar white. The strange thing was that his proximity gave me a feeling of tranquility, of familiarity. It was as if an inner eye was looking for scenes from a distant past, where I had already been with him. Yet it was like I was standing in front of someone I had known for a long time. Déjà-vu? Maybe. I couldn't find any explanation. But I was fine. When we entered, a dark-style guy in a dark t-shirt and jeans was holding a microphone in his hand and was concentrating on his laptop. He must have been Linda's brother. Soon after the base left and he started singing Hinter's "Lips of an angel". Everyone stopped to listen, delighted by his skill. Manuel was still beside me and I often felt his gaze fall on me. "You have to be careful of some guys... they have really vile intentions." He admonished me. "It wasn't my intention to drink, and honestly, I'm not a girl who does a lot of social life." I confessed, keeping my eyes down. I was still shaken and, although I didn't do anything wrong, I couldn't help but feel ashamed. "So you don't like the party?" "So far I haven't had a chance to say I'm enjoying myself." He still offered me his special smile. "What if I show you something that won't disappoint you?" I watched him trying to interpret his intentions: I felt a pleasant sensation next to him, tranquility. He couldn't want to hurt me. Or so instinct suggested to me. "For example?" He took my hand and I felt inflamed. He accompanied me to the hallway that separated the living room and led to the stairs that led upstairs. "Trust me." He reassured me. We went up the stairs and found ourselves in a dark corridor. We went to the window and he gave me a motto to look at the sky. I looked, but apart from the night mantle in which the stars were shining, I saw nothing strange in it. It was a beautiful evening, the sky was clear, but I did not understand the reason for this admiration. "I told you ... trust and wait. Without artificial lighting you should see them. " "But see what?" I didn't have to wait for the answer because a luminous trail illuminated the sky and fell towards the ground. Another one followed. "Falling stars!" I exclaimed fascinated. Maybe I had seen one as a child. Never seen so much splendor. "Tonight there is a meteor shower." Manuel explained. I looked at him again and every time I found him more and more beautiful. "Did you make a wish?" He asked me. "A sky like this can really do everything." "Manuel, we have to go now." A voice said behind us. They were the twins. The glimmer of light caressed their face, making it barely visible. They were very serious. I saw him stiffen. "Agree. Hello splinter. " She greeted me before leaving me alone. I didn't know anything about that boy, yet he had hit me like never before. My introverted character and my not very particular appearance had always pushed me to close up like a hedgehog, so I had never wasted time with the boys. What's the point of playing around with certain immature guys who drool after empty girls like Isabella? But with him it was different. I went down the stairs. They were gone. I saw Marco come towards me with a worried air. "Are you OK? I did not see you anymore." "All right, quiet. Rather, you have disappeared. " "Um, someone blocked the bathroom door to have some fun, but it's all right," he explained embarrassed, "but now let's go home." Good! I wasn't expecting anything else! I honestly didn't want to stay at the party too; the only good moment had been with Manuel. Marco and I approached the door, when Isabella interfered with another of her brilliant ideas. "What, are you leaving now that we are about to play spin the bottle?" She smiled mockingly. "I do not care." I promptly retorted. "Come on, it's a game you can't miss on a birthday, right?" The pursuit of her was making me lose the little patience I had left. I growled. "Thanks, but the party ends here." "Won't you tell me you're afraid?" That was the drop of her that broke the camel's back. I looked her straight in her eyes and her words came out by themselves. "What exactly do you want, Isabella? Find another way to humble me and thus appear the goddess of the group? Look, I'm not interested in excelling at all. Unlike you, I live for something else. " She giggled. "For what? To be a weird loser who hangs out with the likes of her? Oops, the like of her ... you have no other friends. " I felt like a raging river. “You know, it's sad that your only source of amusement is picking on me. This shows how empty you are, since I, despite having only one friend, feel rich because I know that he is sincere, but can you say the same about your so-called "friends"? " She was speechless, looking at me with contempt. "Now stop!" Linda snapped, approaching with an angry air. "I invited Leila because I don't want her to always feel excluded!" Those words enlightened me with a great truth: Linda only felt great compassion for me. But could I really consider her a friend of hers? I sighed. "Thanks Linda." I said in a hiss. The disappointment had shaken me a little. "But I consider friendship another thing ... good continuation of the party." We went out, happy to feel the fresh air again: I felt like I was breathing again. "Ok, you were right ... it wasn't a great idea, I admit." Marco apologized, "It's not an environment for us." I nodded, without raging. The street was deserted and the only noise was the mournful cry of a nocturnal bird, hidden in the branches of a tree. I shivered. Accompanying us were our faithful shadows, visible in the dim light of some sporadic street lamp. A few moments later, however, we were no longer alone. In the distance we saw two figures coming towards us. We didn't recognize them right away, but as soon as they were close enough and in the dim light, we jumped. They were Dario and his teammate Giorgio, who had the same mighty build. "Oh oh, look who's there!" He exclaimed sardonically. His snack companion giggled with him. He looked at Marco and his expression darkened in an instant. “We both have an unfinished business. You know, my father showed me the green mice today and it's your fault! " He stepped forward threateningly, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. Marco took a few steps back. "Wait, why don't you take it out on yourself and the fact that you don't want to do anything?" Marco retorted. "This is too much!" Dario blurted out in a grunt. I saw him position himself, ready to pounce on us. I was petrified with fear, but I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. She sprinted towards us in a leap. I had the instinct to push to the right to avoid the collision, with the intention of grabbing Marco, but instead I fell alone to the ground. I turned around just in time to see Dario tighten the air. "But how is it possible?" She barked. I looked around. Marco was gone, he seemed dissolved into nothingness. Yet he couldn't have escaped so quickly. "Where have you ended up, Onofri?" He called out, even more annoyed. No reply. He turned to me and giggled. "Are you coming out or will you let me have fun with my friend?" Meanwhile, I got up. He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. I grabbed his arm to chase him away, but saw him writhe in pain. His entire body seemed to be in the grip of convulsions, crossed by an intense electric shock. In a split second, Dario was lying on the ground, helpless. His friend ran away. His legs were still moving from the shock, but he didn't get up. "W-h-a-t  d-did you -do to me?" He muttered in a faint voice. He was without strength. "W-who the-f**k a-are you?" "Come on Leila, let's go!" I started. It was Marco. He was there again, next to me., Reappeared from nowhere, just as he had disappeared. Confused and speechless, I ran away with him, leaving Dario there alone.