𝐓.𝐇.𝐄

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓

Nothing.

Emptiness surrounds my eyes, reaching to my mind, making me float on my doubtful and cloudy thoughts. I investigate all the area in total despair, but no single thing appears to be out of the ordinary. No single object makes me think it provoked that loud noise.

Am I getting crazy? Am I starting to see ghosts and earring things?

But that noise was so real it still echoes in my mind.

I keep digging behind my towels uselessly. The more I try, the more I think I imagined it. I snort surrendered.

"Ouch." Suddenly, my head starts hurting. I press my finger on the right temple and I start massaging gently, but the pain gets worse. I hate headaches more than this place. It paralyzes me mentally and physically.

Speaking about physical pain, when does my period think of coming? I can't wait for longer.

Since I forgot what day it is, I don't know the exact date, but I do feel its arrival at the corner. Or uterus, may I say. It always lasts for three days, but the pain it makes me go through is like going into labour. Every month I am forced to lay in bed, with the only feeling of wanting to die. Since I am here, I was lucky enough to be hit me in my free days, however, not the first time. Mrs. Rockchild made me clean all the carpets knowing my condition in that moment perfectly.

On my knees, I kept begging her to let me sit down, but the more I was begging, the more amusing she was. "Grow some balls, stupid girl". I will never forget her words. Since my feelings where at the edge of angriness and frustration, I hit back with, "well, I am sorry, but It looks like I have a vagina."

She slapped me right in the face.

I close my eyes, eliminating that horrible episode, where I realised she is everything except a decent and understanding human being. A woman.

It looks like natural remedies don't seem to help my pain. I can't spend the rest of my day in this condition. Putting on my shoes, I decide to go ask Mary for some medicine, I am sure she will help me more than I have done.

As I open the door, I get sucked in the infinite corridor. I still get lost, but my sense of direction hasn't been so bad. I reach the stairs and I start running downstairs, supposing she is in the kitchen where she always is.

With my head down, I run against a shoulder. "Oh, I do apologies, Miss."

I raise my head as I stop my steps. An old green-eyes man appears in front of me. I have never seen him.. And he called me.. Miss?

"I am sorry, did I hurt you?" I ask, politely.

"Not at all, Miss..?" He asks.

"Evelyn. Avelyn Lothbrok." I smile at him. He looks such a lovely and cultured person. He wears round glasses, a grey shirt suiting his grey and dark hair colour, and some black trousers. In the right hand he holds a brown small luggage. Who is he?

"Avelyn. Now I see." He mumbles to himself, with sudden shiny eyes.

"Excuse me?" I ask, confused at his reaction.

With a sudden and rapid eyes gesture, the flattering fades away from them, "oh, nothing. Nice to meet you, Steve Court, psychologist." He extends his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too." I shake his hand back. "So, what is a psychologist doing here?" I ask, quite amused.

He smiles at me for way too long without uttering a single word. He looks at his vintage, golden watch, before raising his head back to me, "oh, it's time I go. I will see you around, Miss Lothbrok." He exclaims, before walking the stairs on my opposite direction.

I look at his figure becoming smaller until it disappears from my view. Why didn't he answer me? Why would a psychologist be here?

I do need one for sure, but I never expected to see one appearing right in front of me here.

Should I follow him? Maybe I can find out what he is doing here. As I turn around, the pain on my head gets worse.
"Maybe another time." I say to myself, keeping to walk downstairs.

As I get to the enormous kitchen, I spot a tired Mary cleaning the vegetables and cutting meat sitting on the chair. "Mary, are you okay?" I ask worried, walking towards her with rapid steps.

"Darling. I am fine, just a little fatigued. Thank you for asking." She hides her tired and painful look with a sweet smile.

"Why don't you rest for a while? I can continue cooking." I offer. Seeing her in this state breaks my heart. Her face looks pale and her hands shake tremendously. How can he not see that she needs rest? Does he treat everyone like piece of meat?

"You have already worked hard this morning, go get some sle-"

"I already did." I reply straight away, without letting her finish.

"You are stubborn, aren't you?" She asks, kindly.

"You've got no idea." She shakes her head, with a little smile on her lips.

"Okay, then, I give up." She gets up slowly, holding her back with her hands. I can see she is in a lot of pain. She can barely stand still.

"You only need to clean the vegetables and cut the meat. Remember to put everything on the fridge, at the end."

"What about the dinner?" I ask.

"I have already prepared it. There is some potatoes with chicken." She starts walking out of the kitchen, but she stops right away, "actually, I forgot to prepare the salad. Could you please make it?"

"Sure." I reply, excited. I love making salad. It is so easy.

"Cut the whole salad that is on the fridge, some tomatoes and put some pepper." She explains.

"Pepper?" I ask, confused. Where on Earth someone puts pepper instead of salt.

"Yes, pepper. He has always gone crazy for it, since he was a child."

"Understood."

She keeps walking slowly, until she stops again, turning around and looking at me, "remember, pepper not salt", before disappearing from my sight.

                                                                                                       ***

I have never thought I could relax so much by pealing and cleaning vegetables. Without speaking about cutting the meat; so satisfying. Okay, now I sound like a serial killer.

"Now the salad." Here comes the stressing part, instead. If it wasn't for him, I would actually enjoy it.

Careful at any detail, I take the salad and tomatoes and I start cutting them. Anxiety is raising in my mind at any piece I cut. What if she forgot to tell me how he wants everything cut? Or worse. What if she told me, but I didn't listen?

I start taking deep breaths, calming myself down. These are just paranoids.

As I finish cutting the salad, I move to the tomatoes. Carefully, I try to cut every piece of the same measure without cutting my fingers, too.

He wouldn't appreciate my blood or finger in there.

"Done." I mix everything in the container.

Now the last thing and I have finished. I open all the drawers in order to find what I am looking for. "Ah! Here it is."

I take the little tin and with a teaspoon I take some of it. "A pinch of salt and.. ta-da!"