Audra
von Andrea Tallarita (Copyright)
I never thought that the wind could be so cold. I didn’t even know that it screamed, when forced through a car window. Pete is driving. He smells of cigarettes, even with all the wind.
We’ve been moving fast since Charles shot father in the face, so we’ve had less time to look at the towns. There are no clouds in the sky. It is just a dome of rock-hard blue. The sun is an exception, it opens a crack in the blue and blazes through it. The towns around here seem so desolate. Maybe that’s because the sun appears to be frying everything. The desert is barren, much more than I had been told, but fortunately the wind’s screams through the car window keep us cool.
Steve – we’ve had a report from a few officers, down south. Seems like they sighted the four that chopped the nigger. If you’re looking for them, I can get you into contact.
Paul.
PS: You might want to know that there’s a girl in her twenties with them. She’s almost certainly the Carrington daughter, Audra. I guess they kidnapped her after they blew Carrington’s face off. Watch out for her.
I asked Pete to stop for a second today, because I wanted to walk around a bit and stretch my legs. We pass every day in the car, it’s beginning to feel like a coffin. Pete was irritated and he began braying about the fact that the police are after us and that there is no time to waste. Charles entered the conversation and convinced Pete to stop the car for a second. Then he walked around a bit with me. I like Charles, even though he scared me at first. After all, he was the one to shoot father. He’s more gentle than the others, however, and nicer than father was. He’s the only one who still hasn’t yelled at me or hit me. He even protected me, once, when I began screaming and William wanted to beat me. If it weren’t for him, I don’t think I’d have been allowed to keep my diary.
The fresh air, here, is overwhelming. It fills your lungs like water would do; I think I could drown here. It’s different from the stuffy air in my room, more refreshing. Everything seems to be gleaming, though; the sun is like a hammer, and my eyes aren’t used to it. I’m also getting skin-burnt. I was used to dark, comfortable rooms. Why are these boys bringing me in these places?
Steve – news? Cause we’re having some work over here, you know, it wouldn’t be bad if you could get back and lend a hand.
Paul.
Today William shot the nigger at the petrol station, and said that the price of petrol was not as high as everybody kept saying: A full replenishment had only cost him a few cents – the equivalent of the price of a bullet. Kevin said that this was “authentic black humour”, and everybody laughed.
I’m not sure I understand why they enjoy shooting black people. Father said that niggers were dirty and had to be avoided, but he was a decent person and he didn’t go around shooting them. Me, I just don’t like to hear them scream, when they die. Kevin’s the one who enjoys this the most, as I gathered.
How I hate Kevin. He is fat and greasy, and is always sweating. His armpits imbue the whole car with their stench whenever we keep the windows closed, and I hate the way he has shaved his hair. If you aren’t bald, what’s the point of trying to look like it, I wonder. I also hate the way he looks at me, the way he wheezes and the way his sweaty, sausage-like fingers feel on my skin when he touches me. He is a nauseating person, and I hate and loathe him.
I wish I had known earlier that I was going to be kidnapped. I could have brought something with me. It feels like ages since I last changed my clothes.
Steve – what the hell are you doing down there? These guys keep mauling niggers everywhere they go, and you still haven’t caught them?! The people up town were really screaming their heads off yesterday, after the kid was killed. Either you get your hands on them soon, or you’re out of there. Just friendly advice.
Paul.How long is it that we’ve been on the move? How long since I left my father and mother’s house? I can’t remember. I’ve lost track of time. At home I had a wonderful calendar and all, but here I only know that a day has passed when the sun dies out.
Perhaps I write precisely to keep track of time. I had noticed its tendency to fly away, in the past, but I hadn’t thought it to be very important. Days were always the same, anyway. It’s surprising how radically things can change. Perhaps, if I write, my feelings will not evaporate, like they have always done in the past. Perhaps if I write now, then what I felt will not be lost. Why else would I feel this need to write, otherwise?
I was scared of father, at home, but now that Charles has shot him, I almost miss him. Although I was afraid of him, he also used to give me a strange sense of security, which I don’t think I feel any longer. Not with these people, anyway, and especially not with Kevin.
Yesterday night Kevin began arguing with Charles about something. I heard them shouting in the other room. These places they find to sleep in are always cold and dark. I like darkness, but I detest feeling cold. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I was mentioned quite a few times. Pete came into the conversation on Charles’s side, and Kevin stormed out, clearly furious. I guess, insofar as I can tell, that Charles was defending me. I like Charles. Whenever I begin crying or I’m scared, he sits next to me and comforts me. It’s very kind of him.
They were arguing about me, and I don’t know why. I don’t think I care, either. Am I going to die? There are times when I wonder how long there is left for me to live. When someone is kidnapped, normally that person is killed, so I think this will happen to me, too. I wonder if they will bury me after my death.
Steve – you are NOT getting more men. I told you we’ve got work to do, and your team’s large enough already. I’m giving you one more week. Either you find them, or I’m giving this case to someone else.
Four days ago Kevin tried to rape me. What a scumbag. I was just sleeping in my bed, in that mattress full of fleas, when Kevin came in. He sat over me and placed a sweaty hand on my mouth, so that I could not scream. I kicked and shook myself, and did all I could to resist him, but he was incredibly strong.
In retrospect, I don’t think I’ve ever been so utterly terrified in my life. His sweaty fingers moved all over me, I could hear him panting and wheezing in the dark like an animal, his breath was an unbearable stench, he was an unbearable stench, and he was infinitely stronger than me.
I don’t feel like going into detail, but I was pretty lucky. Apparently, I was saved by Charles. He was the one who ran in and got Kevin off me, and he was the one who struggled with him in the dark. (How’s that for a knight in shining armour?) I screamed and William and Pete came in, switching the lights on. They finally managed to get Charles and Kevin off each other. I just screamed all the time, until Charles himself had to silence me.
They all walked out, switching the lights off again and returning me to my warm hole of darkness, where I sat and cried on my bed all night. Hours trickled by, every second stealing a tear before sliding away. The next day, as the sun began rising, Charles came in and sat next to me. He told me not to cry. I kissed him.
Steve – glad you’ve finally managed to find them. Stop hesitating and go get them: This story’s been dragging itself onwards for way too long anyway.
Paul.I’ve fallen in love with Charles, or so I think. Which is really the last thing I needed. We made love, a few days ago, and since then Kevin’s been staring at us with black hatred. Me and Charles never do anything when someone else is around, but of course the whole group knows about it, and no one likes it.
I had never made love with anyone, before. Was it enjoyable? I suppose it was. I did expect it to be a bit better, though.
Yesterday, from the window, I saw the sun setting. For some reason, it made me think of birth. The sun was not burning to watch, for once; rather, it looked like a bright, red coin. A coin with sides so sharp that it was capable of cutting the sky’s womb, and that’s why the latter was bleeding so profusely. The red blood of the sky seemed creamy, as if the blue dome was losing form. Indeed, the whole world was dissolving.
Things melt.
Paul – finally burnt the bastards. Two of them died in the firefight. The other two were captured, but they’ll get the chair anyway. Sorry for having taken so long. What’s gonna happen to the girl, by the way?
Steve.
They were nice, to allow me to keep my diary. Kevin died, fortunately. I don’t miss him at all. His death was grotesque: He ran like an animal, surprisingly fast, given his weight, until he was hit on the spine. He bawled and collapsed, and I still remember the way his glassy eyes looked up at the sky as he bled to death on the floor. I suppose they must have taken his body out of there. Given his stench in life, I can’t begin to imagine what he must be like in death. I always find it very funny, when I think about how similar his death was to a rat’s. William was also shot, I’ve been told, but I didn’t see that.
Charles and Pete were arrested. I’ve been told that Charles has been condemned to death. I think he would be glad if I requested to see him, but I will not. He can go and get roasted on the chair, he and his fucked up romanticism. He was such an ignorant. His notion of love was cheaper than the one I used to find in my father’s hidden books. The most annoying aspect of it all is that I still think I love him. I cried when I was told that he was going to die.
Me, I’m not dead, surprisingly. I expected to, but I did not die. I might die today, or during the following weeks. Otherwise I’ll just wait forty or fifty years, and time will do the job for me.
I think that something was burnt inside me, during these last weeks, but I can’t tell what. This is a nice place, anyway. The rooms are warm enough, and I’ve finally found darkness again.