Chapter 2, Part 8 - Candy Made Of Blood?

Liberty! Goodbye school, goodbye books, goodbye studying. After six endless hours of eternal destruction, I am finally free from those chains that held me inside this evil building.

I'd like to think of it that way, and yet this sense of freshness and freedom can only be felt for what remains of the day: already tomorrow everything will start all over again, and besides, if we really want to say it, chains don't break immediately. That's because there is also homework to do, always there to cause trouble and take up hours that could be used more productively for other things-not in my case, since I never do anything important or even remotely interesting.

Thinking about it, there are those who start the process of liberation right after eating, those who wait a bit before opening books and notebooks, and those who even wait until evening or midnight to study. I don't know how they do it: at that hour I'm completely fried, I wouldn't even be able to do a simple two plus two-obviously for school, because if I were reading something I truly find interesting, I'd never lose concentration.

I can't wait to get home and free myself from this incredible cold feeling, so strong that not even my beloved jacket can fight it off. As soon as my mom sees me, I already know what she'll ask: how did school go? I'll obviously answer that everything went fine, and that's it, nothing more.

I won't mention the other ordeals... I could never reveal to my creator what happens at school, especially when it comes to Marco's constant attacks, who I honestly thought was a step away from actually hitting me. And yet he backed off with a simple sigh and by saying I made him feel sorry for me. I mean... okay, maybe I'm pathetic by default, but he's the one who puts me in the position to deserve that adjective even more. If he didn't bother me, he wouldn't have to put up with my useless way of being. So is it his fault? Well, I suppose it's fair to say so-I'm not the one who goes near him... and even if I did, it certainly wouldn't be to torment him, not that I'd have the strength. I'm just thinking of a highly hypothetical scenario.

Then there's the sight of that girl who stayed outside and didn't seem to have any intention of going in. If I told my mom this, I'm sure she'd bombard me with questions I have absolutely no answers to. I'd like to know what mysteries lie behind her constant absences; I mean, as much as I'm a reserved person, I'm a great listener and, as a result, someone who likes to know things about others. Not always, but sometimes curiosity takes over.

Finally, there's that encounter which I think was like a real bullet for that girl-not literally, but it surely didn't do her any good to be caught doing something I'd consider embarrassing. I wonder if she's still thinking about it: if it had happened to me, by now I'd probably already be digging myself a grave at least a hundred meters deep-deeper if necessary to erase myself from the face of the earth.

A day full of adventures, huh? I didn't ask for them, but maybe they serve to keep my life from being too gray and monotonous. So, what color would I assign to the three experiences? Good question-it could be quite an interesting activity.

So...

Marco's attitude: I don't want to focus too much on his actions themselves, because if I did, I'd have to give him a strong color representing the desire to strike the weak and feel superior in a certain context-or in all of them. I'd rather give it a different perspective, basically what I said earlier about my life, that is, his possible monotonous existence. That could be an appropriate description of this situation precisely because I've lived it and will live it so many times that it will become more and more tiresome. No, that's the wrong word: the monotony comes from the fact that the only thing I feel when I see him and his group is nothing but fear. Only that-pure submission centered on terror.

Mysterious girl: yellow. The definition of my curiosity, something that can be as bright as the sun or as dark as something I can't define. My curiosity is completely genuine, aimed only at discovering without hurting anyone, yet in some cases this desire to know can turn into a source of pain. Excessive knowledge can lead you to a real sense of melancholy.

Imagination for mystical purposes: here I have no doubt-the only possible color is red, just like her face after she saw me in that bathroom so close to her. And then, if we're being honest, I was a bit embarrassed too, especially at the beginning, when I didn't know exactly what was happening and had given my mind total freedom.

Starting from my mother's possible question, I also think about all those times she buys me new clothes for any part of my body. Yes, I have to admit that if I have an actual wardrobe, it's only thanks to her: without her I'd probably have three miserable outfits to wear. The point is that when I wear something new and go to school, she's convinced my classmates will compliment me or give opinions on this stylistic novelty. It would be nice, but it's not like that: nobody cares about your clothes unless they want to criticize you-then, magically, all eyes are on you. In fact, they might even think that what my mom considers wonderful and bought for my own good is ugly and tasteless, but I can't go to my parent and tell her that: I'd break her heart, and that wouldn't be fair at all.

Leaving school is always a huge mess: students pile over one another with the sole goal of getting out as quickly as possible. In that moment there are no lines, no classes, no connections-everything collapses, because every single soul there wants to return to their chosen everyday life. Even here we should distinguish between what we truly create ourselves and what is instead given to us at the very beginning, something we don't know whether to love or hate.

Achoo.

There, I sneezed, and something tells me there's a reason: someone is thinking about me, someone is mentioning me, and maybe I even know who it is. Yes, because I'm convinced that the girl from the romantic incident I witnessed is still wondering whether she should get rid of me to keep the information from spreading. Okay, I'm exaggerating-no one here would go that far-but I'm sure she's plotting something to make sure things don't get worse. I hope she doesn't have the absurd idea of coming to talk to me.

«Candy. Candy. Come and I'll fill you with sweets!»

I immediately turn toward that sound and notice what looks like some kind of stall; I'm not sure it is, because I can barely see it, since its figure is covered by a multitude of people.

I don't blame them: after all, I'd be attracted too if someone were talking about candy. If we go into detail, as for me, I love chocolate in almost all its versions-yes, because I like white chocolate, I absolutely adore milk chocolate, and I hate dark chocolate: I really can't stand it. Also, there mustn't be peanuts or anything similar inside, or I could die from the slightest contact with that cluster of flavors.

I don't dare approach. I mean, I'd like to, but for now I'll wait until things get a bit less crowded; if I threw myself into the fray I might end up shoved and bumped so many times that I'd fall to the ground with no chance of getting back up.

I wonder if you have to pay... and it's not a stupid question, because sometimes people do give things away for free out of pure solidarity, as well as the desire to earn smiles.

There aren't many people like that, and for this reason we should think of them as if they were placed on a pedestal.

«Ah, this? This is a super special lollipop, basically with any fruit flavor you can imagine. If you want my opinion, you absolutely have to try it.»

Do I hear a man's voice? Yes, and it seems rather "heavy," with a deeper tone that feels completely opposite to his actions; I mean, if I had to imagine him just from the fact that he's giving away or selling candy, I'd picture a chubby big guy dressed in super colorful clothes with a calm smile.

If instead I based it on his voice, I'd see him more as a man-still big physically-but with more threatening features, both in his face and clothing. From his voice he doesn't sound local, probably from another country, something like Eastern Europe. It's just a guess... but he seems to have that kind of accent. I practically imagine him wearing a big coat-or maybe like Count Dracula. What if he came from Transylvania? What if he had a hotel where he hosted monsters? I'm exaggerating a bit; I got carried away with a reference to something I read.

I wait a few minutes: little by little things are becoming less "clustered," meaning the students in front of the stall are gradually decreasing, and that can only make me happy.

I don't know, there's something that doesn't convince me.

Do I really want to meet him? Am I really willing to lose part of my time to get some candy? Well, put like that it sounds very stupid, and yet something attracts me.

That man's appearance makes me curious, especially thinking about the two versions I imagined in my head.

Okay, so am I willing to talk to a stranger? No, I don't think so-after all, you should never talk to people you don't know, advice my mom has repeated many times.

So why do I stay here? I don't know: I'd like to get closer, but maybe I shouldn't; yet everyone is near him and talking without the slightest problem. They're even stuffing their pockets with mystically flavored candy-an adjective I provided, even though there's no certainty they're actually good.

And once I got there, what would I even say? Would I have to start the conversation? Not necessarily-he might be the one to speak and then absorb me into his... speech? Manner?

I remain stranded in my thoughts, throwing little glances at the mass of people in front of that paradise of sweets. I can see that the crowd is decreasing more and more-not only there: the area by the school gates is becoming a ghost place.

I wait an undefined number of seconds and minutes; meanwhile, something inside me tells me to leave. I mean, I'm in the middle of the exit path from school and I'm just standing there waiting-someone might think I'm crazy.

Do I really have the courage to open my mouth? What if he's a frightening person? Even appearance can influence me...

I leave.

I have to-not only because of what my body tells me, but also because of my mom's advice.

One step, then another, calmly, as if I had never seen that guy and his will to give.

«If you don't move, you'll end up empty-handed.»

My body reacts automatically, making me turn toward the voice with an immediacy I've never experienced before.

I immediately notice the man's spot is free-no one is there, not even a single soul.

Is he talking to me? Yes, he's looking at me but... I turn left and right-illogical, since at most I should check behind me-and after doing so, I discover that no, there's no one.

The man uses his finger to point at me, helping me understand the situation.

«Yes, you.» he says, before attempting a first safe approach.

«Don't be afraid, I won't eat you. I'm just a humble candy donor, and you can be sure I have enough to feed an entire army.»

I'm not entirely at ease, but I still decide to approach him; I do so with a somewhat embarrassed face and a gaze that moves up and down between him and the ground.

Now that the view is clear, with little glances-those few times I lift my face-I can see his true appearance.

He looks like a middle-aged man, I'd say around fifty, marked by his white hair and beard that make him seem even older. Like his words, his face looks quite peaceful, but I'm sure he could also be threatening if he ever got angry.

Below the face, everything seems like a fairy tale-in the sense that I can't believe he's wearing something like that. His entire outfit is based on a rather strange costume: he's wearing a vampire suit, exactly as I had said when I compared him to Dracula-at first only because of his voice, and now also because of his appearance.

Everything seems to match.

And now that I'm closer, I can even notice he's wearing fake vampire fangs. Normally it wouldn't make sense, but these days-

«I see you've worked up some courage.» He hands me something. «Here, take it.»

I hesitate. I'd like to say no, but that would mean lying to myself, and I don't want to do that again.

I take the object in my hands and murmur to myself.

«A lollipop...»

«Hold on a second, it's not a simple boring lollipop-it's something much more exotic and special. First of all, it matches my vampire outfit, basically it has a blood-red color; also, another key detail: if you start biting it or just keep it in your mouth, it'll begin to turn into gum! Amazing, right?»

«Hm...» I look at him without knowing exactly how to respond. This kind of candy already exists-it's not that special-but his enthusiasm is too contagious to reveal that detail.

I put it in the pocket of my beloved little jacket; without it, I'd already be an icicle by now.

«I don't want to occupy your curiosity with just this little item; come on, you're free to look at everything in this basket.»

I focus on all those candies, I can see a myriad of different things, each represented by its colors and brands. I admit that if I could eat them without limits or consequences, I'd probably have quite a feast.

So much stuff that even imagination can't compete with these containers.

«I already know what you're about to say, my dear girl. Why are you giving away these candies? Or maybe, why are you selling them? You might not have noticed I was giving them to everyone, so it would be a fair question. Anyway, they're nothing more than leftover Halloween candy-let's say I bought too much, I got carried away by the spirit of the holiday and the desire to suck young blood.»

He finishes by making some sounds, clearly trying to imitate some pale monster of impossible existence.

His words and actions create a sort of reaction in me: a small smile appears on my face. I notice it, but I can't stop it-my body has full control over me.

«Now that's better. It seems my super techniques worked in making you more relaxed and at ease. And tell me, did you have fun on Halloween night?»

«I-I didn't go out, I stayed home.»

That's the truth: that day I completely ignored the call of the holiday, both because of my personality and my age-I don't know, am I too old to go "trick-or-treating"?

There were only a few years when I actually did it, and every time I was with my parents; I liked it, but they weren't always free to accompany me-that's why I skipped many times the candy-collecting night. As for my costume, it needs to be divided into the few times I remember.

Once I was dressed as a ghost, something very classic; other times I wore the few carnival costumes I already had, and on another occasion I wore nothing-my mom just put a bit of makeup on my face; if I remember correctly, in the end I became a cat.

«What? How can a young maiden like you refuse the call of the monsters' night? Weren't you curious? Did you not feel like going out?»

«N-no, it's not like that. I d-didn't have anyone to go with me...»

He nods; I don't know what he understood, and I'd like to go into detail, but I don't think I could manage it. «I understand. After all, the evening should be spent with friends-alone, I can confirm it would be very boring.»

I agree.

His eyes turn toward something else-or rather, toward another part of me, but which one?

«If I'm not being indiscreet, what happened to your finger? If you leave blood so visible, I'll be forced to bite you, and I don't know if you want to become a vampire. Vampires can't stay in the sun, which means no swimming in the pool or at the sea-what a shame. Though, looking at you, you seem very pale and mozzarella-skinned-are you sure you aren't one already?»

My finger? The moment he mentioned it, I put the rest of his speech aside. I move my right hand into view and notice a red stain on my little finger.

«I-I hadn't noticed.»

«What?» It takes him a few seconds. «Ah yes, the finger. How did you not notice? Doesn't it hurt?»

«No...»

I'm sure it'll start hurting now, just because I've become aware of it. Basically my brain is ready to trap me in a perfect sensory deception.

«You should be careful-carrying a wound around can be very dangerous, especially if it starts bleeding again.»

He brings his face closer to my hand.

I didn't expect it and move it slightly toward myself.

«It seems that's not the case-better this way.»

When did it happen? I don't remember bumping into anything, nor falling or scraping against any dangerous surface. Really, I have no idea how it could have happened; if he hadn't told me, who knows when I would have noticed.

«Oh my goodness! Look at the time-it's time to close the stall for today.»

«Mm, y-yes.»

«Don't worry, tomorrow-and I assume for the whole week-I should still be here; just look at the candy to understand there's an outrageous amount.»

Yes, but he started talking to me saying I might end up empty-handed. Hmm... he could have said anything, and I would still have been shaken by the sudden contact.

He takes a small pre-filled bag of candy and hands it to me-so much that he practically forces it into my hands.

«I-I can't-»

«Shh! There's no need for you to say anything else, except your name.»

«K-K-Kaede.»

«Nice to meet you, Kaede. Now it's my turn: my name is Dimitri, and I hope to meet you again in the coming days.»

«T-thank you for the candy.»

«You're welcome-and if you want more, I'm at your disposal. Just don't try to take it all, or the others will be left with nothing; besides, I don't know if your stomach would agree with your greed.»

My small smile is still there. I'm not a distrustful person-on the contrary, I start trusting people far too quickly. Just a few kind words and it's done; I could get kidnapped because of this trait.

I don't know exactly how to continue, so... I decide to say goodbye and return to my simple everyday life.

«S-so I'll go now... see you tomorrow.»

«See you tomorrow!»