6) It's eating my backside!

I feel lack of strength and I try to leave the body on the ground, but a shrill

noise, accompanied by the diffusion of light between the four metal walls, helps me to

relax and fill my lungs with air.

The elevator starts moving again, without giving me time to die of asphyxiation like

Abbone from Fossanova , so I look forward to arriving at my destination, with the

heart in my throat for fear that it might freeze again, and this time for good.

I breathe a sigh of relief and my heart starts beating normally as I flee

before the door opens fully.

"You look like you've come out of the grave." - I jump when William's voice makes me return to reality and

watch my back.

Only now I realize that he has climbed the stairs, instead of not walking three floors, to

prove to be an athletic and fit old man.

"They have to fix this crap!" - I exclaim impatiently, with my pupils still dilated,

but my expression seems to amuse him:

«I thought you were more courageous.» - he says, pretending a disappointed expression, while I frown my

eyebrows and stare at the shopping bags that she holds up with difficulty.

I instinctively reach out to help him:

"I'm brave." - I affirm confidently, while he starts to laugh out loud, annoying me at that

point that I'm almost about to give him the envelope and go back to my apartment.

"You are claustrophobic, ceraunophobic ..." - I interrupt him, while he begins to make the list of

my phobias.

"I'm not afraid of thunder!" - my exclamation comes out in a scream, offended by his words,

but in response he raises his eyebrows:

"You knocked on my door, saying you needed sugar, but then you stayed to

sleep on my sofa, hiding under the covers. »- he reminds me satisfied, making me

grit my teeth as we enter his house.

The volume of the television draws my attention to the point of letting go of the weight of

envelopes on the kitchen island, after stealing a bag of chips, and heading to the familiar sofa.

It is not the first time that I have caught him following Pit Bull and Parolees, so much that I started to

become fond of this show, to. But not of dogs, only of tattooed and bullying dog sitters.

"Do you watch it for pit bulls or for Tia Torres?" - I raise my chin to point to the screen of the

television and bite into a potato chip.

It takes a while before he reaches me and sits down heavily on the sofa, then slips on

fingers in the bag and keep me company in eating junk.

«Both.» - he says at the exact moment when two monsters appear in the hall.

I stand with my hand in mid-air and my mouth wide open to carry a potato between

lips, as I meet the fierce gaze of one of the two pit bulls, who continues to look at me

straight in the eye with an annoyed expression.

The other doesn't think twice before barking and running in my direction.

"Don't move." - William puts his hand on my shoulder, but his wise words

only increase my nervousness.

"William?" - I grab his forearm and squeeze it in my fingers at the exact moment when the

dog that appears to be menstruating stops in front of the sofa and resumes starting

as if he was swearing at me.

«Quiet.» - try to bring the palm of my hand close to the pitbull's head, but he does

move away.

"I'm also a dog lover." - I whisper, and then yell and get on the sofa on foot, which

annoys the other, who imitates his friend, while I climb over the back of the sofa and try to

reach the living door, without listening to William who advises me to calm down and

pretend nothing.

As soon as I'm about to grab the handle, leaning forward, the black pit bull grabs

the hem of my shirt, but then thinks about it and opens his mouth again to grab the whole

right buttock between the teeth.

"William! It's devouring my backside! "- I scream and start to cry out loud, as I try to free myself,

but I give up when the red pit bull grabs the other butt, so the old man decides

finally to get up from the sofa, even if I catch him laughing under his mustache.

His expression and the two monsters attached to my rear make me change

my mood instantly, and before William can reach me, I slam a loud punch

on the door and harden my eyes.

My gesture amazes William, but above all the two animals that let go

suddenly and stop growling, so I take this opportunity to slowly turn around,

while I instinctively put my hands on my b side, as if to check that everything is intact.

My eyes fall on the black pit bull and only now I notice the white patch covering his

chest, making it as monstrously beautiful as the other, more muscular, looking at me with

eyes wide open and ready to attack.

He starts to jump, but I stop him when a scream comes out of my mouth:

"Left-ass, sit!" - I incinerate him with my eyes and in response he remains motionless,

to then raise the muzzle and growl.

"Sit down!" - I try to imitate his tone, while William continues to laugh:

"What did you call him?" - his laugh draws the attention of the other pit bull, who sits at the

instead of the red-nosed one.

I rub my lower back with a grimace of pain:

"Next time think twice before attacking me." - I turn to Right-ass,

who seems to have given up and looks at me from below, while the other continues to look at me with

defiantly and bares his teeth.

"Shut up." - I point my index finger, but as soon as I do it opens his mouth wide and starts to bite him,

so I take it out quickly.

«Bastard!» - I whisper, while he barks back, as if to shout at me: Coach potato!

"Monster!"

He barks again: Bitch!

"Idiot!"

Pig!

«Donkey!» - I yell, only to realize that I have said something nonsense, so I turn around

frustrated and in pain to walk out the door without saying goodbye to anyone.

I clench my jaw and walk to the door of my apartment at a distance of only two

meters, but I feel like I'm running a marathon stroking my backside under the pierced sweatshirt.

It was my favorite shirt, even though they all look the same in my wardrobe, all black and

wide.

I arrive at the door while I look for the key in one of the front pockets: I raise my head

to put the key in the lock, but I freeze when I notice a post-it attached to the height

of the handle:

* One day I'll wait for you in your room in a suit and tie. *

I squint to analyze the words, then open my lids wide and miss a

beat, when I understand the hidden meaning behind the writing.

My hand starts shaking as I try to swallow the lump in my throat: Paul will never leave me

in peace, especially after Matthew's gesture.

It is capable of doing anything, even if I have managed to avoid him for several years, by quitting

within four walls.

I shouldn't have gone to that party.

Matthew wasn't supposed to be there listening to everything and break a glass cup on his

head.

I hold a hand through my hair as I keep staring at the wood of the door for a while, and then take a step back. And another when my eyes rest again

on the yellow sheet.

'(memories)

He throws the tie on the ground in a quick gesture, while the malice does not abandon his

expression.

"Paul? What's wrong with you? »- I ask with a trembling voice, but that doesn't move him in the least

I feel like I'm standing in front of a stranger.

' (end of memories)

I keep walking back while my eyes keep staring at the writing again

attached to the handle.

I walk back to the door of William's apartment again, but I'm not convinced

of my decision, not wanting him to look at me in this state.

I rest my palm on the door, repeating deep breaths and hoping to be able to

resume, but before my eyes appears the same scene of Paul's hands as I

drag into his bedroom.

I quickly knock on the door in front of me and William is quick to open in the exact

moment when I feel my eyes cloud with tears: he looks at me with a frown, which then

turns into a grimace of concern.

"I need sugar." - I say in a faint voice, while he just opens the door wide,

inviting me to enter.

This time I avoid Left-ass and Right-ass, who raise their heads in the exact

moment I step into the apartment, then I reach the sofa without asking for permission to the old man behind me.

I've never liked being treated like a weak and defenseless little girl, and it's for

this reason why I have made an armor growing up.

An armor that, however, sometimes becomes so fragile that it makes me run away from any problem,

how I ran out of Matthew's office and how I escaped from my apartment's door

, with the feeling of really finding Paul inside.

I take my place again on the sofa, and then raise my arms to my chest, plunging into the

thoughts and forgetting the presence of William, who continues to stare at me, ready to

ask me what happened.

"You have to report it." - he merely says with a severe tone, almost reproachful, but knowing

already that I will not even consider his advice.

The police only bring trouble, and I've had the opportunity to personally experience it: in

Seattle everyone agrees with those who are wrong if they are richer, and locks a victim behind bars

if he has two change in their pocket.

I learned never to ask anyone for help, as no one could've helped me

so far, not even all this friends of mine.

I am a living disaster who, as soon as he wakes up in the morning, hopes the day will pass

as quickly as possible to arrive in the evening.

"Wake me up before your son comes back." - I beg him in a slow tone of voice, and then throw the

head back to hide it among the decorative cushions of the gigantic L-shaped sofa.

I don't hear a response from him, which makes me understand that he doesn't approve of my decision to

remain idle, but I pretend nothing for the umpteenth time, and I try to

falling asleep, although I woke up not even two hours ago.

I wish I had grown up like a daddy's daughter, from a rich family: I imagine myself in the shoes

of a snobbish and elegant girl, while I pride myself on having received a

Mercedes as a gift.

I would definitely have a bodyguard by my side who would protect me from all the 'Paul's that could hurt me.

I'd rather be spoiled and hated by everyone than sleep on my neighbor's sofa to feel protected.

***

"How long have you known her, sir?"

I have been hearing voices behind me for a while, but I do not find the desire to open my eyes

to know who's talking, not that I'm curious to know, but they really start to annoy me. And I

I hate being woken up.

"Call me William, son." - William's voice becomes clearer, as I try to open my

eyelids and squint, but I give up after vain attempts headlights, so I just stick to

eavesdrop on their conversation.

«I knew her as a little girl. She moved here at eighteen. "- I immediately understand

be the subject of the sentence, so I make a scornful grimace.

"What does she do for living?" - I try to decipher and recognize the familiar voice to know who I owe an

insult as soon as I find it in front of me.

«She is a nutritionist. She works in the gym and she's really good ... when she feels like it. "- the fact that

William keeps talking about me to a stranger makes me open my eyes to the

nervous, so I try to turn around and stand up to send him to that country, but a burden

on my back prevents me.

I curse aloud, silencing the two, while I try to understand what I have on my shoulders, but

I start when I catch the tip of Right-ass's nose with my eyes, looking at me

pissed off from above.

"Go to sleep in your kennel, not on me!" - I yell, making him get out of the sofa quickly, but always with that calm and proud attitude of when we are have introduced each other.

"Do you want to give him my tax code, to?!" - I get up slowly, feeling a strong headache,

but I widen my eyes and regret my tone when I realize I have Jonny Bravo with sunglasses in front of me.

I close my eyes and move my gaze from the figure of the mysterious man to that of William,

and then look around for his son.

«I didn't want to be intrusive ...» - he begins to say with a low tone of voice and an a serious expression

in the face, but I interrupt him embarrassed:

"Quiet." - I hasten to raise a hand in midair, uncomfortable for his eyes, which

they seem to stare intently at me beyond the dark glasses.

He continues to be a stranger to me, but he was the first to make me smile like I haven't done for a while, so I admit I enjoy his company, although I don't even know even his name.

"Are you staying for dinner?" - William distracts me with a mischievous expression, while pointing with a spoon from the table two meters away.

"Dinner?" - only now I notice the light on and the darkness outside the living room window,

as I bring a lock of hair behind my ear and lower my head.

I don't think about it much before nodding, even more when I notice that Matthew isn't there:

he might be with who knows who, maybe with Tessa ...

I shake my head to avoid thinking about him, but as soon as I move towards the table,

enthusiastic about not spending an evening in

solitude, a voice behind me startles me.

«In the morning you run away from my office, but in the evening I find you on my sofa.» - I stop at my

steps, before I can take my seat, then clench my jaw and take a grimace

in recognizing his voice, as I slowly turn to insult him, but, instead of

offending him, my eyes widen at the sight of Matthew, leaning against the door jamb

with his arms crossed and only with a towel around his waist.

"Hello, Charlie."