I want everything of you

by Deborah Fasola

  And who more than him can understand what is right and what is not right?

  I don't know if he is really doing his work, with me, in that kind of moment. I don't belive that the cure of sex is count like a right methodology in any exsisted psicologically school.

  Actually i don't know if he ever does his real duty, becouse i notice that also in normal sitting he doesn't success to be professional hundred percent as the first time; but i don't want to do sitting with Miss. Johnson. She is too beutiful, too grim and too punitive.

  "Maybe i will skip the sitting" i honestly say. To be honest was the first lesson that Isaac teached me, such as my mum and my dad did a lot of years ago, but it's a sin that i'm rarely honest but too oiled to understand what it's right to reveal and what not, at last for myself, at last for now.

  Like i knew two years ago, whan it happened what it happened and i choose.

  So what is important to choose, is it not so?

  I look at Isaac and, i know that he is perfect, but he isn't the men that i choose and now he loooks a me again with that appeasement that makes me mad.

  I know that also today i'll leave this room with my liver that bursts and inside me a lot of anger.

  Maybe extra sitting makes my hurt.

  Maybe he hurts me also in real sitting.

  Maybe i shoul stop seeing him, but i need orgasm i can't stop that thing becouse i can't find it in another place, if we esclude masturbation that hurts my nerves, recently.

  "Talia…"

  "Okay, i'll go to that damned sitting, but you'll come back sooner and tell your wife not to be a bitch."

  "Talia!" he screms on my face as i'm a baby and i laugh, i take my backpack and i put it on my shoulder with a rapid move, then i raise my hand and move my fingers harmoniosly to greet him like that, with a smile on my face.

  But i don't feel good today, also after this, and i don't know why.

  He also smailes, until i don't close the door behind me and i exclude him from my view.

  And from the moment in which i put my foot outside there, everything goes well, becouse outide the Black room, i come to be only Talia: the guilty, whose of bad secrets, the doughter of rest, the broke person.

  I decide that for today i'll avoid to think about this thing.

  Only for a while.

  .2.

  Talia

  "Come on or we'll arrive late at Farrow's lesson also today!" Wiley shouts from the room near bathroom in which i'm and, even if i have the shower open, her words arrive like a train launched toward my earing and disturb it.

  It's always the same thing everymornig, i'm more dazed than usual because i take medicines that would require a minimum of calm sleepy while i don't sleep enought.

  "Let's you go, i'm drying my hair", i shout to her, lieing, under the shower.

  I hear her knuckles that beat on the wood door of the bathroom just when i'm going out the box, already wrapped by the tipical hot of Melbourne stagion.

  "Balls", she says to me, " you are now going out from the shower."

  She discovers me.

  I puff in a little laugh and i raccomad to myself to hurry up, litterally, because to arrive late, again, at a Farrow's lesson, that teachs with a profound passion literature, meaning to start with a downside of three point to the exam that we'll have with him in this term.

  "I'll arrive in a moment, i swear", i fell that she is going to give up the hold just when, while i'm rubbing bath towel with a lot of voracity on my skin, the sound of my phone interrupts both out matters.

  I know that is mine because sounds Twilight music of a Yiruma piano, a passion that i bringed in years, the only music that calm me.

  I love classic things, not modern and every bullshit that makes sweaty body of shaking in gym, disco and in the street: we must be at peace not shake our neurons also with music.

  "Too late, Tally, open the door, it's you mother", and now i know that i'll arrive late at Farrow's lesson, that it'll be equivalent of take a lower point in his matter, that is one of my favourite, i'm going to point to qualifying as a nerd. For some matters we need to stand out.

  I puff, i throw the towelin sink and i wear shirt and panties, while Yiruma piano continue to play, annuncing again and again the inevitable.

  Only when i'm semi-dressed, i open the door and i find the falsely annoyed big face of Wiley that gives me my phone.

  "Thank you."

  "Reply to her, yet, doesn't matter if we'll arrive late" pronuncies, because since she knew how things are with mine- altought she knows only a little thing- she is becamed a kind of paladin of lost causes and she would- not too secretely- reunited a destroy family and that maybe do with it a pride.

  The phone stops ring and i do my satisfated face and lift rhythmically my shoulder.

  "Ops, too late" i say, laughing inside me.

  But the damned phone doesn't enjoy me the winner that comes back to ring with no pity.

  Wiley expression makes me nervous more than a sitting with Miss. Johnson.

  My parents bump me and i'm so sorry that it's so. The trouble is that, despite having come to live on campus to get away from them, they are not too far from me. And they are with the breath on my neck, always. I fell them look at me also here, even if they are not here. I see them with their invisible precence while i'm at lesson or at a party, also in that rare moment of sociality that i'm tring with fatigue to live, to try to be better, to show the normal girl that i'm not and not to seem a maladjusted.

  The advantage of introducing me in a new enviroment it's just in the the fact that here no one know really me o no one know my story, because here eveyone go in a hurry, chase their future and they have no time to be sorry for me like happened at high school.

  There i was the poor girl punched by tragedy that then was disappearance for some reason, and she is not able to graduate with hes friends. About that friends i don't keep no one, only my cousin.

  "Reply her. Come on" Wiley is peremptory but she makes me laugh and, guilty, i nod.

  We immediately understood each other, maybe because both of us live bring back a weight made by secrets that we can't trust each other.

  I don't know how is hers, i know that about mine she knows too little and it's enought for her and i thank her for this.

  For example she doesn't ask my why i have perennially a sad eyes, and i know that she notices this. She doen't ask me why i always wear long sleeves shirt, also with the good stagion that it's going to arrive.

  I presume that about two months, in Christmas, when summer will be fierce, she will ask but she won't ask me directly.

  In the last two year it was a business belonged with sultriness and my limits, but now i did an habit.

  I nod to her or to my tought, then i close the door, i tell her "Go!", and i answer to the call.

  "Mum, what a surprise!", i ironically comment yet i answer to the call.

  I hate my parents.

  And this is not the hate that everyone, more or less, fell during adolescence; it seems clear to me since i have passed that way for a while.

  I hate them for what they did to me and i won't ever stop to hate them for how they see me and for how they still make me feel.

  For them I think that I'm much more than the error left, the one that has ruined them and then ruined itself, and that they can not understand they want to commit themselves to do it.

  Since it is happened the unavoidable they are changed.

  Both of them. Not only with me but also with the rest of the world, above all mum.

  "You did'n call about a lot of day, Tally, so we must have called you."

  We. Mum always talks like they were one person, without knows that me and Lily got cought her more than one time. With her lovers, i say. An Ju jitsu instructor all muscles and theories, that probably was the cheaf of Thai chi course that my mother followed. A disgust without end, but probably this is a normal thing in every day life. And anyway i never say poor dad, because he really deser
ved it.

  I'm tired of being maneuvered by them.

  "Good morning to you. And what you want to know about? About sitting with Wilson or if i'm studying enought?" i say this with a compliant tone of voice while i try to fasten the bra under my shirt tha i already wear and then i come out the bath finding- luckily- an empty room.

  "Tal, you are unjust, we just want to know how are you."

  Oh yes? And since when?

  "Good" i annoyed and serius say, and meantime i wear jeans than does't dress me good because i'm getting fat and now i do an absurd effort to fasten in my hips. This signify that i'll get from the baby size to the first micro adult size, very good.

  "We heard that Dottor Wilson we'll be away for sometimes, we are asking if Miss Johnson is going to see you."

  I block myself at her word.

  How can they know that i have one sitting with her?

  I suppose that Isaac continues to update them on my terms, at this point, like it was in pacts, altought he had not tell me about this matter.

  For a while i fell betrayed, first because it's clear that Isaac Wilson does't update about what concer me- and also him- but also because he will be away not only for one sitting.

  This thing becomes to sweat my hands.

  Blocking the phone between my shoulder and my check, i put a pairs of book in my shabby backpack and i decide to talk with my mum outside here: i'll take air and I won't choke to listen them and i know that, stand in the middle of other people, i can't be angry with her. I know that i can't do that anymore.

  So how do I know the pacts were these: I could have left home to live in the campus and attend the university - with their money - only if I continued to undergo sitting with Isaac. And what a sitting.

  He woud have to inform my parents weekly of my presence in his study (i attend the black room a lot of time in the week, i have to say), in change of my freedom and their tranquillity.

  More than a special guard, so I feel under house arrest with the obligation of end the votes, under penalty of the withdrawal of the studies.

  For that I point to that scholarship with all of myself, but to get it I should do something I could never do, like a sport or some additional course.

  Medicines calm me but have also di capacity of be out of the tune me and my concentration often goes to snack, something that makes it impossible to extend beyond the normal schedule of compulsory lessons.

  "Yes. He also told me that you are with Miss. Johnson this week."

  Maybe it was an error come here, maybe if i stayed at home ill, like i wish, it would be better. More normal it hers unormaly.

  "It's going well, darling, you'll see. I ask myself if all the rest goes.. well."

  Her words are like a punch that arrive suddenly and crush all you tooth, that quietly crumble and fall pieces after piaces.

  It's strange how it can irritate who take care about me in that sense.

  "Do you want to know if i have insane moment yet? Let's say that goes well until lunch, then also knives in canteen start to attract my attention and i want..."

  "Talia, stop!" the shout of mum catch me unawares outside the door of my room, i'm going out there and that sound makes me jump, while she regains me like an injust baby, as usual.

  And i'm, little and lost, injust, evil, and no one take my hand.

  "Mum, now i need to leave, i hope that you are well, but i need to go", i detach me from the scene, like Isaac teach me, and i get frozen.

  "Don't do this, you don't take us calm", her voice on the other side of the line is barely listen.

  I'm making her crying again, what a bitch.

  "And you don't let me breathe" i say, sharp as always, the worst is that now i'm not able to breath, really.

  I try to rationalize because my head starts to turn around and i don't want to go in hyperventilation right now.

  I need to move. Walking will help me to get rid of adrenaline which is exactly what it takes to keep from collapsing.

  "Tally.." i listen only one last lament, then a close the calling and i start to run.

  I don't take the elevetor but stairs, it's only three floors so i know that once i get to the ground floor of the campus, if I move fast enough to burn the adrenaline that only one call has sent me into the club, I will win panic.

  One, two, three... I cling to the hand and start to run away.

  Four, five, six .. carried out the first corner of the stairs coming out the second ramp, making the steps two by two and staring at the tip of the tennis shoes that I wear, as anonymous as I want to be.

  Seven, eight, nine..before ten, a tremend shot shakes all my body and i'm hurled backwards, ending up sitting on the last step i just got off.

  The backpack that i have on my shoulder just softens the fall but i slam the coccyx emitting the pungent pain, while the anxiety fades away.

  " Damn, look where you put your foot, kid!", the voice of the one who has overwhelmed me tells me, like the guilty is mine, that i'm painful on the ground, while him, apparently, he stands up and growls at me.

  I look up and two green eyes pierce me from side to side, probably because such a beautiful eyes don't really see me.

  "Sorry, but also you don't see where put your foot or i don't be on the floor", i controptous say.

  It's a boy.

  For me boys are more or less egual because i don't think about them in that sense for a while- that isn't my doctor, of course, but that happen to me becouse of that transfert- but this guy, althought scrutiniz me grimly, he's different from the others.

  He is beautiful, intriguing, natural. He has brown hair, large shoulder, the short-sleeved shirt that lets you see defined muscles, and a pair of low-waisted pants that make it very cool. That absurd clothing.

  However he piecers me with his green eyes using them like a cutting blade, and just because i'm a very conoisseur of cutting blade, i feel chills on my all body.

  "The next time be more careful", he says and then he moves, starting to climb the rump that i have just come down.

  He passes me over without offer me his help to stand up, or ask me i'm good.

  Nice asshole.

  "Of course, i'm fine, thanks, it's all okay", i reply to his warning and obviusly i'm sarcastic and even slightly angry.

  "Yes, okay, as you want", the guy shakes his hand and continues to climb the ramp with his head down, as intent on not thinking of anything but my dended ass.

  He is a big asshole!

  I get back on my feet with difficulty and pass the rest of the downhill massaging my ass.

  Fortunately, the campus of the university are immense and I will almost certainly never see that guy again so rude, I think all the time.

  When I arrive in class the anxiety has gone away because sometimes pains and thoughts are of great help.

  Too bad that the image of those eyes that fix me with grudge remained in my mind, because I do not understand from a bit of being looked at to someone, especially since I left home.

  And I hate being watched that way by anyone!

  .3.

  Talia

  This is exactly that kind of evening that i need after a pitched day like this.

  I need to rewie my way to face up life, i'm here, i accepted compromises and i can't stand no more that a call or some umpleasant word, ad an umplesant meeting, could condition in this way my day.

  I need to be superior, different, like Isaac always says to me.

  I miss him.

  Althought i say and i know that i can't fell a true romantic feelings for him, not that kind that move on physical needs and egoistic psycology, i miss him and i fell the need of him.

  Need of him that never belong to me.

  I don't listen him for a day and for me it's a long time, because after our last meeting in the black room he is closed in a press silence in the heart of his perfect house with a perfect wife. Sometimes i hate also her, althougth i have never seen a photo. Maybe she looks like me, but i'm in doubt a
bout this.

  And however, as i said, despite all of this and evil tought, this evening party is what i need to reconsider my person to Wiley and her group, but above all to myself.

  I want to built an image that give the idea of a normal girl, happy, without skeletons in the closet and without a painful past to be pitied.

  I don't want to be that kind of girl anymore.

  "Yuo had to accept my altruistic invitation to wear that sexy dress that is so good for you", Wiley says to me twisting her nose just we arrive near Dendy Street Beach.

  I look at me and i fake indifference.

  "I don't undestand what my dress has", obviusly i joke because i alright know what goes wrong.

  In one word: everything.

  Looking at Wiley, for example, my head almost turns. She is showy, she has a perfect body, blonde hair like sand that we are trampling- in which with high heels she sinks but is stable- the clear face and happy of who has a normal life, i don't say easy but acceptable, and who feel almost beatiful.

  I'm the oppisite: i go without problems with my sneakers, only annoyed by the grains that enter into it, on the contrari of her, i feel like Calimero; i only miss the shell on the head to feel more secure, but that would mean bring along a pieces of home and i haven't the minimum intention, because i haven't got an house, or better, there isn't my house anymore.

  "Are you kidding on me? However i don't complain, i swear, becouse it's just a miracle that you came here", my friend says to me, lifing up and shaking her hands while the wind shakes hair and makes its sway togheter, so my clear and hers dark get confused and i understand that after all i'm not alone, thing that i'm not used to feel anymore, but it's enjoyable have this certainty just for a time, so i laught.

  "Of course, as you can see i'm trying to open to sociality i reveal her and it's true, as i said i want to be a new me that go at the party, that not depend from Isaac and don't close in muteness and in the room for a bad day ( just because i have a lot of bad day recentely).

  The beach is beautiful in the night. Despite the obscurity the classic lines of colorued cabin of pastel colors of this place are visible becouse someone planted a series of torches in the street and that formes a way in the street that leads at the entry of the Roger's villa, one who organises this special party for college friends, in honor of his last month before graduate.