She sat in the spacious, bright kitchen. Her chocolate eyes were fixed on the floor, where the last rays of the summer sun painted gilded patterns. She loved summer vacation, but this time, their end wasn't her biggest worry. Nor was changing schools for high school. Her parents. It was because of them that she'd been feeling angry and irritated for some time now. They were the reason she spent the last days of summer alone, pacing from corner to corner, screaming with debilitating helplessness. Because they were adults. Because they had decided it had to be this way. Because she had to come to terms with their selfish decision...
The girl lifted her head and gave a brief, agitated glance first at her mother, then at her father, before returning her gaze to the peach-colored tiles. She had had enough of the pleas, threats, and rebellion. It didn't take her long to realize that her words were useless. She quickly realized that no one truly cared about her and that she was completely on her own. She hated the appearances that, willy-nilly, followed her everywhere and at all times. She felt as if she were wearing a nametag with the words "I come from a good, exemplary family" written in large, black letters. Her only regret was that it lacked one short sentence: "...but unfortunately devoid of any feelings." People adapt to life in the world they find themselves in. Karolina learned to function with the condition of having her parents give her everything but love. And that was precisely why she was so different from her peers. Silent and withdrawn, she had only a close circle of friends, whom she enjoyed with her company. She hated change and novelty, which was one of the reasons why the arrival of the unknown boy so deeply affected her.
"You already know that Emil is coming tomorrow. We just wanted to ask you for a few things," her mother said matter-of-factly. Karolina, her expression set, looked at Angelika, who was emotionlessly observing her blood-red nails. Sometimes the girl was amused by her younger sister's ideas, her mannerisms, and her vulgar language, completely unbecoming of a thirteen-year-old. But even though the two girls were related by blood, they didn't particularly like each other. Not only were their personalities different, but their appearances too. A stranger could easily say they were just two strangers.
"We don't want him to feel like you're not happy with his coming. And we're especially asking for your tolerance, Kara.
" "Okay," Angelika muttered. "If there's a nice ass, I can even show him around town.
" "Angelica!" her father straightened in his chair.
"What!?!
You know we'll make a lot of money out of this," her mother ignored her younger daughter's behavior and turned to Karolina. "And the boy will get a chance to graduate from the best university in Warsaw."
"Do you know that I'm sick and tired of this whole money-hunt? Money is the only thing that matters! Maybe you could put me first for once...?!
"I didn't know my daughter was such a selfish person.
" "Yes? This might surprise you, but I've known about my parents' selfishness for a long time..."
***
Two large, full bags lay in the hallway, as if waiting for their owner. A short, slender woman stood nearby, sadly observing the luggage. Although she knew this trip was the best possible solution, deep down she wished her son could stay here, in his real home.
"Did you take everything?" the woman asked when the boy finally appeared in the hallway doorway.
"I guess so..." The brunette took a few steps toward his mother and looked at the enormous bags with a rather terrified look. "I could have cut down on all the pairs of socks I packed," he joked with a smile, even though the whole trip had actually been quite stressful for him. The closer his departure came, the more doubts and dilemmas he had. Finally, when the moment arrived when he would leave his family home for many months, all the bad feelings accumulated and completely overwhelmed him.
"It'll be fine," the woman assured him calmly, as if reading Emil's mind. "Don't worry about me either. We'll manage here. With Marek...
" "Exactly. Say goodbye to him for me..." The boy only now remembered that in all the commotion he'd forgotten to say goodbye to his mother's concubine, who had to leave for work early that morning. The boy quickly grabbed his shoes at the sound of the horn. "The taxi's here," he remarked, tying his shoelaces. His hands were shaking so much he barely managed to do it without major difficulty.
"I'll call... And write... I love you, Mom." Emil hugged the woman tightly, who was trying desperately to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes.
"I love you too, son... Take care... Bye...
" ***
A terrible gale had been raging outside since early morning, faithfully accompanied by rain. The atmosphere at home was tense and unpleasant. Mom was baking a cake especially for Emil's arrival, but even its tempting scent couldn't lift Karolina's spirits. She hadn't spoken to anyone since yesterday. Right after her morning make-up, she put on the first pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and, without warning anyone, quietly slipped out of the house. She covered the few streets to the apartment building where Weronika lived as quickly as she could. Her hands were shaking with cold as she pressed the button on the intercom next to Pacholczyk's name with a wet finger. Finally, she heard her friend's voice and, without any tenderness, grumbled a short, "Open up." The girl's eyes widened at the sight of Karolina and she immediately went to her room for some dry clothes.
"You could have at least put on a coat..." she muttered, peering into one of the drawers.
"I couldn't, because they would have realized I was leaving.
" "So what?
" "And the fact that Emil is supposed to show up any minute..." Karolina said the boy's name with a hint of irony. "I have no intention of greeting him with a smile..."
"What if he turns out to be incredibly handsome and incredibly cool?" Weronika was amused by her friend's hysteria. The girl had a certain virtue that Karolina unconsciously liked about her—that optimism saturated with ironic jokes that had cheered up the bitter girl many times.
"As if he couldn't live in a dorm..." Karolina watched her reflection in the large mirror standing directly in front of her with indifference. Her dark brown hair curled around her face, and her ponytail had fallen completely flat and looked haggard. "Do you have a hairdryer?"
"I have..." Weronika handed her friend one of her blouses. "Exactly... Why doesn't he live in the dorm?
" "I don't know exactly... He's probably too comfortable.
" "So, why did he move in with you?" The girl opened another locker, clearly looking for pants.
"His father, just like mine, is a representative of Class, and they go to these conferences around Europe together... I don't know the whole story, but apparently I'll be paying us good money for it... Will you give me that hairdryer?"
*
The girl didn't return home until lunchtime. She mentally thanked herself for the idea of going to Weronika's, because she knew well that some time ago her parents had gone on a long-planned trip to the theater with all their friends. She hoped she would be able to slip into her room unnoticed without encountering the stranger. She tiptoed up the stairs and with complete concentration headed down the corridor towards her room. As she walked along, carrying her still damp clothes, rolled into a ball in one hand, the door opened a little further on, and a boy emerged from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. He stopped for a second and looked at Karolina with fear. She, too, stood there, eyeing the stranger with a surprised look. This wasn't what she expected. This wasn't how she imagined Emil...
The boy smiled uncertainly, but surprisingly, there was no trace of discomfort in his eyes. On the contrary, Karolina had the impression that the stranger didn't mind greeting her, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. The brunette approached slowly, his gaze never leaving the girl's face, and extended his hand toward her.
"Emil… I'm Emil," he announced in a confident, resonant tone. Karolina didn't move, remaining there, observing the stranger without a trace of sympathy. While she quickly realized that Emil looked wonderful, she quickly dismissed the thought, remembering that he was a completely uninvited guest. Seeing the lack of any reaction from his new roommate, the boy took a step back, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry I'm so… half-naked. I thought I was home alone.
" "You're not." Karolina was cold and unkind. She didn't care about the boy's sympathy at all. Her only goal was to get him out of the house as quickly as possible.
"I noticed.
" "That's a bit tactless, don't you think?" the girl glared at Emil defiantly. A look of surprise, mixed with uncertainty, passed over the boy's face, but after a brief moment of hesitation, he said,
"I apologized. What should I do? Buy you flowers?" The stranger's eyes glinted with irony. The girl clutched the pants she was holding to her chest and glared defiantly at the boy. She hadn't expected such a reaction from him.
"I don't know what house you're from, but the rules are different here.
" "Yes? And what are they? It has to be whatever YOU want?" Emil smiled, facing the girl. He was a head taller, so Karolina, who had been confident until then, felt quite vulnerable.
"No one here wants you walking around in just a towel.
" "That's bad luck... I thought I looked sexy..." The boy's voice was laced with irony and amusement. Karolina swallowed hard and bit her lip. She knew full well the boy was mocking her, yet there was something about him that, besides anger, aroused curiosity and a desire for further conversation.
"So I have to tell you that's not the case..." Karolina adopted her companion's tactics, and a smile spread across her face as well.
"Really?" The girl pressed herself against the wall, forced by Emil, who "trapped" her between his hands. "Are you sure?" Their faces were only a few centimeters apart. Emil coquettishly looked the girl straight in the eyes. Karolina felt as if an invisible string had tightened her stomach. She could barely breathe, yet she was too proud and stubborn to escape.
"It's pathetic, you know?
" "Yes?" The boy stood still, his eyes, previously filled with mockery, becoming increasingly serious and eager.
"Yes. And you're too confident. Take your hands away and say goodbye..." Karolina touched Emil's hands, which were glued to the wall at the height of her head, and gently tried to rip them off. Unfortunately, the boy wouldn't let her – in one swift movement, he grabbed hers as well, further disabling her. The girl stood there, completely immobilized by Emil, and tried with all her might to express coldness and hatred in her gaze. Unfortunately, she was a poor actress...
"And what if I told you I wouldn't let you go anywhere?" The boy's gaze filled with hidden irony again.
"Then I'd say you're being foolish, because I don't like your jokes and words.
" "Maybe you'll like something else..." Emil smiled mysteriously and moved his face closer, almost touching Karolina's.
"I doubt it. And I have no intention of trying anything more." The girl cleverly withdrew her hands from the boy's grasp, then with a forceful movement, pushed him away from her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go." With feigned regret, she brushed past the boy and, without unnecessary cordiality, went to her room.
*
With her legs drawn up, she sat on a green armchair in the corner of her room, clutching her closed diary to her chest. Her gaze was fixed on some distant, undefined point, and, biting the cap of her pen, she wondered where to begin today's entry. The sun illuminated the entire room, giving her a sense of relief, peace, and joy. Despite this, the girl had mixed feelings. She tucked an untamed lock of her light brown hair behind her ear and opened a large notebook with a blue cover. The cover was decorated with colorful stickers, from the famous Great Orchestra of Christmas Charity heart to the famous pyramids of Giza.
"September 3, 2005
He's unbearable. He doesn't follow the rules that have always been in this house. He skips breakfast and comes home at whatever time and place he pleases. He may be in his twenties, but he's not on his own. He's WITH US. And he should live like us. I'm surprised no one has reminded him of that again. In JUST a week, he's already brought three girls here. One of them looked like she was from the bloodline of Satan. A million tattoos, piercings, and those "fashionable" black clothes. They probably celebrated black masses... And Angelika fell in love at first sight. Emil is her idol. Pathetic."
The girl closed the diary upon hearing a knock on the door. Eyes glistening with anger, she looked at her mother, who, without waiting for the usual "Come in," stood in the doorway and announced with a smile:
"We're going out to Mr. and Mrs. Jakubek's.
" "Great.
" "If you're hungry, order some pizza.
" "Sure.
" "Angelica has to be back by her twentieth of her cursed birthday. If she doesn't, bring her here somehow.
" "Uhm..."
"Oh... One more thing..." Mom gently closed the door and took a few steps toward her daughter, then asked in a low voice, "And how's Emil...?"
"What do you mean?" Karolina fixed her mother with a cold, repulsive gaze.
"Well... What do you think of him?
" "What does it matter?" The girl wasn't even trying to be nice. Mom lowered her gaze and only spoke after a moment.
"You don't have to be so sarcastic." "
I'm not sarcastic.
" "That's what you think.
" "Anyone can make mistakes.
" "Eh... It's impossible to have a normal conversation with you.
" "And vice versa." Karolina smiled artificially, seeing her mother retreating toward the door.
"We'll be back in the evening." The woman turned and left, ending the discussion. Karolina opened her diary again and grabbed her favorite pen, continuing her earlier notes.
"Mother and daughter. They should love, respect, and support each other.
I don't love my mother... And even if I did, it's not true, deep love.
My mother doesn't love me... And even if she did, she's completely incapable of showing it.
I don't respect my mother... To me, she's just a puppet chasing money and striving only for her own happiness. I don't want to be a part of that kind of show...
My mother doesn't respect me. If it were otherwise, there would have been at least one occasion in my life when she took my opinion into consideration.
I don't support my mother. On the contrary, I point out all her flaws. Unfortunately, to no avail... She's still a lousy selfish person.
My mother doesn't support me. I long ago gave up any false hope that I could ever count on her.
Strong words. True words. My words."
Brak komentarzy:
Prześlij komentarz