CHAPTER 13

Enzo ends up leaving when the caregivers kick him out. Despite the weight weighing down my legs, I have never felt so light. My brother is certainly the most boring and carefree boy I know, he is still the one I will love and protect forever.

The next day, an army of white coats requisitions me once again to make me pass other exams. They begin to explain to me what they intend to do to me, but since I understand absolutely nothing of their medical gibberish, I don't really listen to them. The flashes of the devices they put me in make me want to vomit. They wake up that fucking migraine that's been lurking in the recesses of my mind, and even the strongest painkiller doesn't relieve that vile feeling. When I finally get back to my room, I feel like I'm a morning after, minus the alcohol and the party.

I doze for a few hours to regain my strength. My brother's visit yesterday gave me more determination than I needed. I'm determined to get better to get out of here as soon as possible and find out what happened to my family. When the stupid physio greets me, I read in his eyes that he is surprised to see me so motivated to work today. I then force myself not to respond to his preconceived encouragement and to focus on all the muscles that I no longer feel but that are still there. When all my efforts are over, I try to silence the little voice in my head that constantly reminds me that my condition is not improving. So as a distraction, I stuff the headphones from the Milan iPod in my ears and let the music short-circuit my thoughts.

The voice of the singer of Linkin Park sings In the end and I let him take away all the anxieties that I will never be able to express. The notes of the songs that follow one another vibrate in the depths of me, bringing me a serenity in which I no longer believed. I close my eyes to savor this moment but a few minutes later, a little shiver runs down my spine.

I feel this shudder spread its wings in my spine to go up to find the heat of my neck and m'ensuquer. My cheeks heat up slowly. This feeling, I would recognize it among a thousand. I was 3 years old the first time I felt it. My mother had forced me to put on a pink dress with white checks and I had struggled to prevent her from tying those two ridiculous pigtails over my head, but she had scolded me and I had had to let her. So I sulked. I had angrily crossed my arms over my chest and was sulking. Until a little boy with dark hair and transparent eyes walks into the classroom. His face lowered, he seemed lost and uncomfortable in these pleated trousers which bothered him. But when I was finally able to meet that gaze, I didn't understand why a shiver had lodged in the small of my back. I felt weird but I liked that feeling. So I gave him a little wave to tell him to come and sit next to me and he joined me.

My throat constricts when I hear the silent breathing of the one standing a few feet away from me. I don't know what to think of his presence. Did he come for us to finally meet or to empty his bag again? This possibility seizes my heart and instinctively, my fingers are tied to his ipod. I breathe deeply one last time before meeting his impassive gaze.

Milan is standing, his hip propped against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest. He stares at me with his two azure balls which darken immediately when our eyes collide. I can read so much resentment there that a deep sadness lodges in my heart. Talk to me Milan! My eyes can't let go of his as our silent exchange throws me off balance. I feel like he's asking me a thousand inaudible questions that I'll never be able to answer. I have the feeling that he will never hear the SOS that my lips cannot formulate. And above all, I have the impression that he himself does not know what he is doing here. I want him to approach me and explain everything he has on his mind, but I'm far too stubborn to dare to ask him.

Unlike the teenager he was, the Milan facing me supports my gaze and does not flinch. So much so that my determination begins to weaken and I feel uneasy. Me ? The girl who goes through life like a steamroller without ever looking back, uncomfortable? It's the first fucking time! My eyes allow themselves a new contemplation of her sculpted body and her mesmerizing face, taking care to linger on the row of black eyelashes that border her lagoon and the brown locks that tease her forehead.

-There is something I don't understand Ema. Why did you piss me off the other day? Why did you leave seven years ago? Why don't I recognize you anymore?

My friend's rocky voice doesn't just break the silence. It stirs up the tension that already exists between us. I know I should concentrate on his words but I can't help but want to hear his voice over and over again. She has changed so much! She wasn't as... assertive and masculine, but I have to admit, it suits her really well. Immediately, I wonder what she looks like when she sails on the waves of her guitar.