[It had been about an hour and a half since he closed the shop. Vincent wondered who it could be. He remained shocked when he opened and found on the threshold of Eleonora’s door, in tears and soaked from head to toe.]
Have a good read!
He quickly took her inside, warm. He gave her a chair, on which she sat. Vincent squeezed the long emerald dress, prepared him a mint tea and took some towels to wipe it dry so that she would not catch cold, if she had not already done so.
He preferred to remain silent, remembering her mistake, waiting for her to speak for herself.
She sniffed before whispering thanksgiving. He gave her an encouraging smile. She lowered her eyes before speaking slowly. Her voice was interspersed by small sobs.
‘I’m sorry… I don’t want to disturb you… snif… I ran away from home… Mom and Dad… They… They keep fighting…
Vincent remained silent, letting her continue.
It’s been like this for a while. They can’t see each other without getting their heads together…snif… At first, they sniffed, ignored. But now they yell continually and no matter what time or place! They call themselves horrors and sometimes they even come to their hands! They are in the middle of a divorce…
His voice climbed and descended continuously in the acute and the severe.
Beautiful face was flooded with tears; pale complexion like a cloth and blushing eyes.
At this sight, Vincent’s heart broke.
‘Before, everything was pretty good! But my little brother … Tommy … He … snif…
We were all at the beach.. When it happened. I was playing in the water — I loved it — mom was putting on sunscreen and daddy. He was on the phone for work. We weren’t paying attention to Tommy. He was tired of waiting for my mother to take care of him… He started running… On the road… The car did not have time to act… It hit him with full force!
Eleonore burst into tears. Vincent took her in his arms, trying in vain to comfort her.
She resumed after several minutes. Vincent did not want her to feel compelled to talk about this drama. But the little girl made her realize she needed it.
“My parents were collapsed. They cried a lot and didn’t really talk to each other anymore. suffering alone and in silence. That’s why, perhaps, they got to this point…. I was also sad, but…. I was young and didn’t understand everything. So I tried to give them back their smiles. I did my best. I was working hard! But the situation was not improving! On the contrary… They began to blame themselves. The arguments have multiplied to become a daily life. To the point that I have become invisible. I go and come home alone from school, prepare meals, do my laundry… I try not to exacerbate the situation… But it is painful to witness the collapse of one’s own family! It seems that they have forgotten my existence! Whether I am there or not, it does not change for them! I could disappear that they wouldn’t even notice!”
At the end, she began to shout, mixing anger and misguided sadness.
I don’t want this! I want my parents! My parents before me; those who loved me, tucked me in, those… The ones who saw me.
Silence took place to the desperate cries. Éléonore fell asleep against him. Vincent hugged her with tears in his eyes. He could understand the suffering caused by the loss of a child but not to the point of making the one who remained suffer. On the contrary.
All because of adults… fucking parents ignoring the suffering inflicted on their child! Again!
He tightened his teeth with anger, stormy eyes.
He put the child on the ground, calibrated it properly, and covered it with his coat.
Vincent called Gilbert, asking for the address or phone number of the sleeping angel’s parents. He summed up the situation, and Gilbert quickly did him a favour, as always.
Having the number, Vincent dialled it and picked it up. After a short wait, Éléonore’s father answered. The brown, angry and grieved for the sleepy child, did not retain his words. The conversation was spicy. But the voices did not rise. Vincent had been clear in explaining the situation, and had asked in a more or less vulgar way to act so that this would not happen again.
The parents, about forty years old, arrived about twenty minutes after the phone call.They seemed embarrassed and ashamed to be scolded and awakened by a younger person than them and especially by a stranger.
They apologized and thanked him before taking Eleonora and taking her home.Vincent hoped the situation would work out.
Seated alone, in the middle of the room, he thought of his past, of his uselessness in the face of the distress of the one he loved and whom he would undoubtedly love until the end of his life.
When he returned home, he took a hot shower, leaving the water flowing along his body, marking his skin red because of the strong heat of the water. He ignored the pain.
Coming out of the shower, he took a boxer shorts and a black t-shirt. He lay down on his bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he thought of his childhood and his adolescence.
To be continued….
I wish you good holidays at the end of the year.
[Vincent couldn’t be a simple bystander. Not again. He wouldn’t. There was no way the end was the same. He couldn’t stand it. Not this time. His heart would undoubtedly let go.]
Have a good read!
The next day he armed himself with his mobile phone and sent a message to the old man; Gilbert.
The day before, he had tortured his mind. He had made a choice: to fight his destiny. And therefore, he would not stand idly by.
He had sent a message to get information about Eleonora.
He must have had them since she was a regular; the former owner had to know something.
He took a shower, dressed, had lunch, brushed his teeth, put on his shoes and set off for his workplace.
Arriving, he quickly passed a broomstick, put away some trinkets and stood ready to welcome the guests.
He was busy all day with several activities and clients.
The evening when he went to bed, he jumped when his cell phone Vibra. He had received a message.
Gilbert gave him an appointment the next day. Thursday. Vincent was happy. He was looking forward to the answers. He fell asleep and calmed down.
His appointment didn’t go as he thought it would. He certainly had answers, but they only gave more and more questions that continually tormented him.
He could not sleep until three o’clock in the morning.
Friday. She was coming today. Waiting for her to come.
He couldn’t hold on; too obsessed with unanswered questions. When she arrived, a big smile appeared on her lips.
They greeted each other. She went straight to the books.
Vincent did not leave her gaze from her arrival to her departure.
The days went by, he still did not know any more, and it was bothering him greatly.
How can we act if he was in ignorance?
Three weeks had passed, he couldn’t take it anymore. The worst part was that he had noticed the sadness in the pretty eyes of this child, whose attachment he had made far too quickly.
As usual, Éléonore went to the books after greeting him. Without being able to retain his words, he asked her:
“Don’t your parents worry too much when you come straight here?”
He immediately regretted. What a ball!The child’s face closed and a coldness mask took place. Far from being stupid, she understood that something was bothering that man she met twice a week. She was sure of it; he knew something, otherwise he would not have taken that guilty expression.
Vincent felt uncomfortable. He screwed up. Eleonore showed him the book that she took and gave him the necessary money; without any words exchanged and left.
He screwed up pretty bad.
She definitely looked a lot like Alex. This observation hurt his heart.
He was right about that.
The following Tuesday, she didn’t pass. Nor Friday. And for two weeks her absence worried Vincent.
He kept thinking about his shit. But what an idiot!
It was already Saturday. The weather was rainy. His watch was 18:30 when he heard someone knocking. It had been about an hour and a half since he closed the shop. Vincent wondered who it could be. He remained shocked when he opened and found Eleonore on the threshold of the door, in tears and soaked from head to foot.
To be followed…
Short part, but it’s to let the suspense last~ x3
Everything belongs to me: history, characters, … All rights reserved.
Some places are inspired by existing places.
The point of view or ideology of my characters does not (necessarily) reflect that of my person.
I’m sorry if there are any inconsistencies.
It is composed of 6 parts, not to mention the bonuses I have planned to write.
Hoping you’ll like it,
Have a good read!
“To those who love to die…”
The one who made us meet:
In front of the shop he had wanted for several years, Vincent signed the administrative papers before returning them to the old man. Lastly . The shop was his.
The first place he met him. He, the blonde of his dreams. The one he loved more than anything. Alexander Weargrive.
A young man who had taken his heart and had it, in the most cruel way possible, broken into thousands of fragments. In an irreparable heart.
He returned to reality, far from those nostalgic thoughts, when the former owner saluted him before leaving.
He observed a few minutes the rather seductive entrance to this little shop, reminding of the remnants of the past. A little smile was drawn on his fine lips.
Walls made of beautiful stones, a large wooden door and a small oak sign where he had engraved: «Boutique de souvenirs».Simple but beautiful.
No glass allowed the interior to be distinguished; making the whole mysterious.
The majority of customers who pushed the door were attracted to the curiosity of discovering the hidden wonders of the lair.
End his contemplation, he penetrated inside before freezing.
Nothing had changed. Everything was like in his memories.
On his left, shelves filled with trinkets, dishes and decorations.
A window left the sun’s rays illuminating the many objects of various times.
In the center, there was a fairly recent counter, where papers and pens were stored in disorder. And in the back, two shelves. The first was dedicated to teas from different countries and the second was a well furnished library.
The right side of the room consisted of furniture and paperboard with glass objects.
The walls were covered with clocks and frames. And from the roof, lamps and a jar with a swimming fish hanged. All these elements made the place magical.Especially for those with a child’s heart.
Vincent jumped when a cat came out of nowhere, jumped to greet him while meowing.
The young man went down and caressed him affectionately.
Leaving the cat, he looked at the time displayed on his wrist watch. He sighed;It was time for him to get to work so he could open the shop the next day.
He pulled out a pocket mirror and watched himself.
He, on the other hand, had changed his mind. Probably because of the grief he had felt over the past few years.
No more piercings adorned his face; His tattoos remained unapparent under his tie-suit, closed to the neck. The features of his face were drawn. Big circles had taken place before his eyes and it seemed that they no longer wanted to leave him.
His complexion was pale, way too much to look pretty. His nose slightly hunched, ever since he got caught up in a goddamn quid pro quo. his brown hair with indomitable fuses.
These eyebrows were now frowned, most of the time. But for him, the worst remained his eyes.
He had a haunted and bruised look. Something that brought him back to the harsh reality.
He thought of a quotation seen and reviewed in books and films: «the eyes are the mirror of the soul». Sad and annoying truth.
He sighed of weariness.
Suddenly the bells of the shop sounded, surprising the brown.
A child about eight years old appeared at the entrance.
A young girl who seemed to come from a distant time. She looked like a porcelain doll.
The rounded face of childhood, big eyes of sky blue color, a small nose, pink lips, cheeks blushing with autumn cold.
This beautiful face was framed by long black hair.
But what caught the man’s attention, was the long red silk dress with many froufrous;recalling the dresses of the time when kings ruled the world.
When she saw him, the girl stopped sharply before asking with a sweet voice:
‘Hello sir, do you know where Mr. Gilbert is?
It took him a few seconds before he understood the question and answered it.
Good morning. Mr. Gilbert has retired, so he’s no longer the owner— He gave up the shop to me…. I’ll say half an hour, we signed all the paperwork.
The little girl’s eyebrows frowned. His eyes did not leave the man in front of her, observing his slightest movements. He felt like he was being analyzed.
He’s swallowing up.
“He did not warn me.”
Vincent looked sorry.
“Ah, sorry. Do you come often?”
Without hesitation, the minor replied:
Yes. I’m a regular customer. I come every Tuesday and Friday from my evening classes. He didn’t give me any information about the change of ownership…. Certainly an oversight on his part. Is the shop closed?
“Yes, since I have just arrived, in order to get used to it so that I may take my mark.”
“I am sorry for the inconvenience. I will leave immediately. Oh, and welcome!
Vincent was surprised . She seemed mature for her young age; whether it’s the way he expresses himself or the way he holds himself straight, with his head held high, but with respect.
‘Oh, no. Don’t leave! You’re not disturbing. And I don’t want to spoil your habits…
She gave him a smile of gratitude and extended her hand:
– Market eleonore, what about you? Will schedules change?
He gently took the extended hand and gently squeezed it; surprised by the softness and coldness of the child’s fingers.
Vincent. My name is Vincent Mark. Nice.I don’t think I’m changing the schedules. It would be embarrassing for the regulars.
‘I see, thank you, and likewise, I am delighted to meet you. Ah, and may you … Um…
Vincent blushed when he realized he was still holding his hand in his hand.
He let her go.
She then went to the library, looked at the books there, picked one, and flipped through it.
Vincent stopped looking at her and went about his business.
About twenty minutes later, Éléonore left the book recently bought under his arm.
Vincent sighed again.
He did not know why, but the feeling of knowing the child occupied his thoughts. She seemed so familiar to her that it was troubling. Something about her reminded her of someone. Her eyes grew in shock. She reminded her of a certain blondie… Was it a trick his mind was playing?He didn’t know anything about it. And for a long time, he had given up discerning the true from the false.
But what if it was true? A thrill of terror crossed her dorsal spine. This child had to suffer.
He pinched his lips. He was not to interfere. But, what if she was really suffering?
He gave a violent kick in the counter while screaming various insults.
Vincent couldn’t be a simple viewer. Not again. He wouldn’t. There was no way the end was the same. He couldn’t stand it. Not this time. His heart would definitely let go.
To follow in the next part…
I hope you enjoy reading this first part. I tried to translate at best using Reverso (mainly) and by checking with Google translation. I cross my fingers so that it is the right translation….;)