“…And Justice for all”

 

I. Setting: Reno, Nevada, last days of May 1879

  

   The first rays of the morning sunshine, filtering through the flowering branches of the trees created light effects on the pale dead body of Mary Stipe. She lied upon a dirty bed, on the first floor of the local inn. Her long red hair and her face were covered with an old yellow pillow.

   The night before she had had only one client (the last one of her short life). She was a 24-year-old girl and she had three children (but she didn’t remember even the face of their fathers). At the local inn, she sold herself every night: with the money that she got from her “lovers” she could buy some food for herself and for her children.

   At 10 o’clock the innkeeper entered the room and discovered the body (the night before he was not there: the inn was in his nephew’s hands because he had just come back from a journey in Colorado); he immediately called the sheriff who came forty minutes later. The sheriff wrote up the list of the people that had been in the inn the night before, from 9 pm to midnight. The list included the innkeeper’s nephew, the pianist, the bartender and many other people that had gone there just to get drunk or to pay a visit to the young prostitutes.

   The sheriff gathered the suspects in the main hall of the inn and started the questioning: everyone had a perfect alibi…no-one seemed to be able to commit that murder.

   The investigation had ended up in a blind alley when, three days after the murder, in Mary’s house the sheriff discovered a red book in which she had noted down the names of her clients; under the date of her death there was just one name: Henry Macy, the richest and most influential man in Reno. He did not figure in the list of the suspects: a conspiracy of silence protected him. Everyone in Reno feared Henry Macy, even the sheriff who said that he could not arrest him without at least one witness of his guilt (as a matter of fact, Henry had also provided the sheriff with his job…). The night before, the men who were in the inn had clearly seen Henry escaping from the room on the first floor after having suffocated Mary Stipe with a yellow pillow and they had let him go pretending not to have seen anything…

   At last, in spite of their fear, pursued by remorse, they decided to make the conspiracy of silence crumble and to denounce Henry Macy.

 

II. Setting: Reno, Nevada, first days of June 1879

 

   The trial against Henry Macy began with the evidence of all the witnesses before the Court. The Sword of Damocles was hanging over his head: if the Court absolved him, he would be free, otherwise he would die.

   All the circumstances were unfavourable to Henry but there was something that no-one had considered: even under indictment, the power of his prestige and of his money was unchanged. He paid the judge and the greatest lawyers; in the Court, his pleaders asserted that that night the witnesses were for the most part drunk and that they could not have seen clearly the murderer. Needless to say that the judge agreed with them…

   About fifty minutes later the bulk of the witnesses had put in doubt or retired all accusations. Only three men kept on testifying Henry Macy’s guilt but no-one paid attention to them because they were known as three inveterate drinkers. For lack of evidence, the judge could not condemn Henry Macy and absolved him from the accusation of Mary Stipe’s murder.

 

III. Setting: Reno, Nevada, last days of May 1913

 

   The first rays of the morning sunshine, filtering through the flowering branches of the trees created light effects on the old wrinkled dead body of Henry Macy. He lied upon the white, clean bed of his big rich house and his grey thinning hair was surrounded by soft perfumed pillows. He was 77 years old and in his life he had been through a lot (you could perceive a satisfied, untroubled smile drawn on his dead pale face).

   At 10 o’clock his dead body was found by his son who immediately called the doctor and the priest. Within twenty minutes he had already organized the funeral.

   Two days later, the dead body of Henry Macy was buried in the graveyard: his expensive white marble grave was next to a very poor, simple one. It was quite difficult to read the name written on that tombstone because of the ivy: the grave belonged to a young girl who died in May 1879 and was soon forgotten by everybody…

  

   On Henry Macy’s tombstone, under the name and the golden cross there was something else written:

                                                  

“He wanted the reign of God on Earth,

and Justice for all.”

The Doctor’s choice (short version)

 30^th  January 1933

I’ve just come back from a journey in the USA and today I’m very happy for two reasons. Firstly because after a long time I’ve seen my love, Karla. She is beautiful and I love her very much, but there’s also a negative fact: both our families don’t like this relationship. My father is a nationalist and doesn’t like Jews, he believes they  are responsible for Germany’s defeat in the Great War, but I don’t think he says this nastily. Karla’s family is Jewish, but for me it’s not a problem and I think that our marriage (I hope it will be soon) will sort out all differences.

Secondly, this morning Adolf Hitler, my father’s old friend, has been elected Chancellor. My father says that we must be very happy for this event because he is charismatic and  capable of giving new enthusiasm to the nation. Karla instead is very worried because she says he hates Jews, sincerely I don’t know him, but I trust my father.

 1^st   April 1933

I’m a little worried because I’ve noticed a growing intolerance and violence from the right-wing party towards the German Jews. Today some nationalists painted stars of David and slogans on the windows of shops owned by Jews, maybe trying to intimidate the shopkeepers. Karla’s father  is a shopkeeper, too, and he seems very worried… talking of Karla… she seems very detached in this last period. It’s true, I’m very busy working in my father’s clinic, but when we are together she seems to be miles away. Does she still love me? I hope my impressions and suppositions are wrong…

    14^th July 1933

I’m shocked, Karla has confessed she has another relationship. I can’t stand this situation! She has deceived me and lied to me… She says that we and our family are too different and we’d better break up. How can she break my heart in this way? I’ve always loved her more than my life and I was ready to marry and leave everything for her… I’m furious, I’ve been a stupid, I’ve confided with  my father and he has given me comfort, he says  she doesn’t deserve me, he has always known that I could aspire to someone better. I agree with him, I don’t deserve all this!

When I see her in the streets my heart starts racing, I can’t stand her look.

I’m trying to find some distraction  working. A law for the prevention of hereditary diseased progeny  has just been introduced. My task is to determine if someone has a hereditary sickness, These people will be sterilized to avoid the birth of sick babies. My father thinks that a person who is born sick, is destined to suffer and needs a lot of money to be cured; this is a difficult period for Germany, after the humiliation and the defeat in the World War I, caused by the Jews,  families don’t have much money. So this is an act which will help restore our nation.

I’ve already examined some interesting patients, they all suffers from hereditary diseases and as chance would have it, they are mainly Jews!

 

  30^th July 1939

A wave of nationalism has swept over Germany, I’m overcome by events, I’m not able to react, to defend my thoughts and values, I’m a coward; with my work I’m sending a lot of people to death, but I prefer closing my eyes  pretending that all this is right and necessary. Don’t I deserve to die? Only now I see what I’m becoming and all this because I’m trying not to disappoint my father. After the break with Karla I’ve been muddling things up,  I’m not able to think with my own mind. My dad is a monster, only now I’m opening my eyes, he is not a model but a mad killer… now it’s too late, I’m like him.

  20^th June 1940

War has started, I lost any joy in life a long time ago, but I know I have to act, finally.

Two weeks ago I learnt that Karla was brought to Auschwitz, a concentration camp, from that moment I understood that I wanted to see her, still my love, for the last time.

I moved to Auschwitz and started to work as a doctor there. When I saw Karla, I felt my heart race. I managed to talk to her in private, to confess her all my errors and my plans. When I finished talking she was crying, but I’m sure, this is the right choice.

Tonight I’ll help a group of Jews to escape, my plan is ready. If the guards try to stop us, I will fight and keep them busy while they will be running towards freedom.

I will not escape from my destiny, not this time… It’s late, time is running out and I have to go.

For the last time, goodbye.

 

THE ROOM

You, man, live your little life thinking that all the things must be logic and explainable.

Usually it is so, but in the universe there are things that you can’t explain. But these things are far from here, you think. No, they are here, around us.

 

I’m going for my evening walk  in the neighbourhood when it starts raining.

I protect myself from the rain under an arcade of a house that I’ve never seen before.

I see a light in the house so I knock at the door to meet the house owner but nobody answers me.

I see that the door is open, so I say: “Is there anyone in?“ Nobody answers me.

I ask again but again no answer. So I enter. The room where I am is a little living room covered with dust, without windows, so I think that the house is uninhabited. I go back but I’m not out of the room, I’m in another room like the previous one.

I exit from this second room but there is another room like this and after it comes another one again. I start to run but I continue to cross the same room, again and again.

I run and run, but I never exit from the house and all the rooms that I cross are the same. I can’t believe it.

I stop to run and sit down on the floor, I’m tired and confused and I think it must be a dream, but everything is real. I stand in fear so I lie down trembling…

When I wake up, I see a man with white hair and a beard in front of me.

I jump up and ask him: “Who are you?”

He answers me: “I arrived in the room when I was a young boy and never went out from here”.

I look around and the room is not the same one in which I was before. “Where am I?”, I ask. “Ha, ha ha! It’s the first night you spend here and you don’t know yet that here every day you wake up in a different room. There are a lot of rooms and many people live here and sometimes they meet each other.”

“How can I go out from the room?” I ask.

“You can’t go out. You are imprisoned. You have to stay here forever, until you die”, the old man says.

Nevertheless I seek for safety, but all my efforts are vain. I am terrified and exhausted and I fall asleep again.

When I wake up, I am alone and in another room. I don’t hold out much hope for an escape route when I notice a grandmother clock.  I get closer to the clock door and open it with caution. Suddenly the room is flooded with light and I am under the arcade of the house.

I spent two days into the room, but for the people outside time hasn’t passed.

Now I’m happy and I return home running.

Since that day I’ve been searching that house but I’ve never seen it again.

 

Susanne

 

 

On a sunny day, Susanne, a very absentminded girl, was lying on the ground outside her house. Nobody used to walk around there so she felt free to use her imagination….. Looking at the sky…

One cloud started to move faster than the others, faster and faster until its perfect white turned into

green, red and all the rainbow’s colors …. “Susanne!!” the cloud disappeared. “Susanne what are you doing? It’s late! You must go to the market!” screamed her Grandmother, a lovely old women.

Back home, the young girl prepared her backpack while Grandma explained the road to the town again and so she left.

 

Once on the street she was still thinking about that fantastic cloud, so colored and so fast; who knows where it was going to.

 

Walking through the field she found a crossroad: and now? Left, right or straight?

 

Trying to remember the Grandma’s, poor Susanne completely forgot which was the right direction. Right behind a tree a dwarf was quietly smoking his pipe: “Why don’t you proceed straight on that way?“. A little grumpy but very helpful.

 

Finally she arrived at the lagoon: it wasn’t a beautiful place, really. Fog surrounded her. “Now you are completely at a loss” she said to herself.

 

Suddenly a crow arrived right in front of her. One second later another bird reached the first and so ten more. Completely scared, she jumped behind, falling on the ground. She was now surrounded….. A music started and the wind moved the leaves…. A dark hooded profile appeared through the fog. His slow movements charmed Susanne’s eyes and hundreds of crows hid his true face.

 

The man came closer and closer; he wanted to touch her with his black hand…. Almost touched but….. he stopped for a second, he put his hand up and…. Flash…. An incredible light opened the dark and Susanne’s eyes opened again. The black Figure screamed and all the crows started to fly all around to protect him, but something was shining through the darkness. A small colored cloud held up at ten meters from the ground. A stair came down: “SO WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO? ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?” a voice from the top of the cloud was calling Susanne, which, finally free from the spell, started to run along the cloud.

 

The Black Man stood up and very slowly followed the girl. She was now climbing the stair but he grabbed her foot. All the crows started to caw and another lightning blinded the black birds which flew away. Half  a body came out from upstairs: a young boy with a very serene face was playing the violin. Something magic came out of  that instrument: a wonderful melody irradiated the colors of the landscape, enchanted notes lit up the darkness.

 

Another hand from the cloud grabbed Susanne’s arm and quickly pulled her body up. With a scream Black Profile disappeared together with his crows and his ugliness.

 

“COULD YOU PLEASE PLAY A LITTLE BIT EARLIER NEXT TIME? THANKS” said the boy.

 

“AND WHY NOT, MAYBE A LITTLE BIT FASTER AH?” answered the musician “YOU REALLY CAN’T UNDERSTAND MUSIC!“.

 

“OH REALLY, AND SO JUST BECAUSE I’M A DRAWER, I’M JUST A STUPID BOY WITH HIS BLACK DIRTY HANDS RIGHT?“

 

“OH COME ON, YOU KNOW THAT I’M JOKING”

 

“Ehm… Good evening… ehm… I have a couple of questions: where are we going?” intervened Susanne a little shyly “and above all: Who are you?”

 

“OH SUSANNE IT IS NOT IMPORTANT WHICH IS OUR DESTINATION” said the musician “AND OF COURSE YOU WILL DISCOVER WHO WE ARE DURING OUR JOURNEY. DO YOU TRUST US?“

 

“Y…Yes but….”

 

“GRANDMA ALREADY KNOWS EVERYTHING” said the drawer starting to sketch something in a large sheet. 

 

A STORY OF ANGELS

 

One evening Marie was at her best friend’s house with other friends. They had dinner together and then they watched a film on television. When they finished it was really late and outside it had been snowing for three hours: everything was completely white. So Marie and her companions decided to pull up there. They tried to sleep but nobody succeeded in doing that, then they thought to tell each other a little story. Everyone told fantastic stories, about love, adventures in magic lands, etc. At last Marie’s turn arrived and, watching outside, she decided to tell a real story, about a mysterious and frightening thing that had happened to her when she was only a young teenager.

“The winter in which I was twelve I went to Canada for Christmas with my parents.” she said.

“ We stayed there for ten days and it was a really nice time. On the first day we threw a lot of snow balls and we skied a lot. Then I tried to ice-skate, but I wasn’t certainly as good as people who lived in that country and who could train every winter. I also saw at an ice-skating show: I had never seen anybody so good at it!

But one evening it snowed too much.

The landscape appeared awesome so we decided to go skiing. The snow was very soft and twice I sank with my feet into it.  At a certain moment I was at the bottom of a slope and I was waiting for my parents who were just descending it. Then they met some olds friends who used to go there with them when they were younger. So I moved to my left and sat down on a stone, but I was very impatient at that age so I took off my skies and I started walking among the trees. Probably I went too far from where I had left because I didn’t recognize anything around me. I was frightened so I started running and screaming calling for help. I continued walking for a very long time and, after about half an hour, I found a cavern made of ice. I was hypnotized. I got into it and every step I did I was more surprised. After walking for a while I felt sleepy and I yawned: blocks of ice fell from the ceiling. The entry was blocked and I was snowed in! I started crying but only ten minutes later someone opened a little hole where I could got out: I was safe! But I didn’t see anybody and anything around me. Who opened the hole?

Then I looked down and I saw some little branches that formed a sort of footpath. I decided to try to follow this footpath and in less time than I thought I found the ice run and down my parents who were talking with a policeman. I ran to them and they were at the same time surprised and worried because I had my clothes a little ripped. I told them my story and then I asked them if anybody was looking for me: I wanted to thank the person who had saved my life. But nobody was looking for me and after some researches somebody found the cavern but there wasn’t any hole on it. I’m sure that an angel has saved me that day, there isn’t any other explanation.”

All her friends had their eyes wide open and nobody had the courage of saying anything.

 

 

 

The unicorn legend

 

 

Shaila was a princess and her father was the chief of an Indian tribe. He wanted his daughter not to marry because only in this way at her death her spirit could become the spirit of purity and it could be evoked by the people of the village. He wanted an afterlife for his daughter. Shaila was a beautiful girl with black straight long hair, and she could play the Pan-pipes very well. She usually went into the forest on horseback, sat on the ground in front of the lake and played her flute listening to the sound of the water.

One day, while she was playing, she saw the lake reflect the face of a boy who was behind her. She immediately stopped playing and stood up to run away but he seized her hand and looked at her in silence. He was a handsome boy with blond wavy and long hair blue eyes and a fair complexion. His voice was sweet when he said that his name was Derek and that he had listened to the magic sound of her flute every day, but he had never understood where that sound came from. Shaila introduced herself and then they started to speak as if they had known each other for a long time. But as soon as the sun set she said she had to go back home and she rode her horse.

The day after Derek went to the lake to meet Shaila again. It happened for many other days and they fell in love. They spent all the afternoon speaking about their different cultures, the problem Shaila had with her father and swimming in the lake. But one day while Shaila was joining Derek in the forest, she understood that someone was following her and she saw behind her some of her father’s warriors. He probably had understood she was hiding something from him. She took her crystal sword and she tried to free herself from them but her horse slid into a precipice.  It was the last time that Shaila rode her horse, and then nobody had news about her. Naturally the warriors never told their chief that his daughter had met a terrible death, they only said she was missing, but he didn’t see her again. That day Derek was at the lake waiting for Shaila, and he never saw her either. But he never gave up hope. Every afternoon he went to the lake, he sat on the ground and he stayed there until the morning.

One night he was sleeping on the ground when he heard the magic sound of a flute; it seemed Shaila’s Pan-pipes and he thought he was dreaming. Then a voice called him from the lake. It was Shaila’s voice. He stood up and he came near the lake. The water was of a strange colour and the waves drew Shaila’s face. The voice told him not to be afraid because she had come there to ask him to go with her. He was incredulous and he was ready to do everything to reach her. She said the only thing he had to do was to be hit on the forehead by her crystal sword. He didn’t hesitate and he kneeled down. A hand that kept the sword emerged from the water, he recognized the sword and he let himself be hit. Immediately his skin became white and velvety, his hair became white too and they were similar to a mane and the sword stayed in his forehead like a unicorn. He become a marvellous horse, a horse that had never been seen before. Shaila emerged from the water, leaped into the saddle of her horse and they rode through the sky and they always stayed together.

 

 

 

 

 

THE OBSCURED PITY

 

Khartoum, 20 September 2006

The wind was hiding the sable when he put the suitcase down, opened the door and entered his flat in the centre of that silent city.

His impatience was so high that he couldn’t stop walking around the dining room: for all his life he had always waited for the time in which he could have shown all his abilities in trying to help those who weren’t allowed to ask for their human rights. It was the case of Sudan.

The phone rang. The men of the new government of Sudan, who had just known about Mr. F’s arrival, were waiting for him so he immediately went out to reach his colleagues.

While he was walking through the road, he gazed at a child at the corner: he was eating a piece of bread with his dirty hands, while his black and watery eyes were looking at the man in front of him.

A strong sense of pity captured the man and full of pain, thought of his father who used to say “children are always the true victims of wars”.

When he arrived at the house, a servant opened the door and took him to the garden were two men were talking.

<Mister! Welcome in Sudan! I suppose you’re the new monitor for human rights!> said the older one <Why don’t you sit down with us? We were just talking about your job. Probably you’ll have some difficulties.>.

Mr. F was astonished. The only reason he was there, was to help people…the target of his own life: <Why do you tell this?>.

The second man answered: < Sudanese people who caused the war won’t let you apply your western ideas. If you think you are allowed to save their people, you are getting wrong. You only have to convince them to listen to you, but don’t think it will be simple.>

<Sorry William, it’s 3 o’clock. We have to go to the meeting.>

< 3 o’clock? I’m sorry Mister, but we have to go. We will see tomorrow. Goodbye. >

The two men went away, leaving Mr. F alone in the garden. The servant came and took him to the door.

He looked back disappointed and went out.

The sun wasn’t shining as it was before, as if an imperceptible cloud had appeared between him and the landscape.

A sense of uneasiness grasped his stomach and he started to gasp.

When he turned the corner he found the same child who was chasing a mouse.

The sense of uneasiness changed into anger. Why should those people have rejected his help? He was trying to support them and what would they do? They would obstruct him and forbid him to give them rights they had never had.

The pain for the child became hate. The invisible cloud which had blurred his view, turned into a black spot that seemed to invade all his body.

The man started running. Through the city, through the roads of Khartoum, between houses of unsteady bricks, until he arrived at the hotel and ran up the stairs as far as his flat.

When he opened the door freezed and trembling and closed it. His shoulders leaned against the door.

There was no more pity.

He understood: the paternalistic education imposed by his father.

But he hated his father…and now, he hated those who were so much loved by that man.

He could have killed that child.

He put everything he could into the suitcase and left Khartoum.

 

 

50 mph

 

 

“I see her on my left side, I don’t know where we are and why we are here…outside it’s raining and inside too, everything happens so fast, so confusedly.

I’m in Anne’s car with her, she doesn’t speak to me, is she still angry?

The rain is wet and cold, it’s ruining the leather chairs… let’s hope it finishes before Anne wakes up…Why is the car so inclined? Why is the water all around us?

[…]

It was the first time that I had gone to a party, usually I lived in other places my adolescence, I had never liked music too loud and the screams of silly people; but Anne loves me and invited me to share her youth world. She became my personal taxi driver and whenever she went I was her shade, her angel, her hope.

“No drugs, no alcohol, and no cocaine” my mother used to say.

The party started and my mind started to run with the rhythm of the noisy music, but my muscles couldn’t move so violently and fast, in that moment I had lost Anne, my personal Virgil in the night inferno; I was poor and undefended.

 Two false friends come closer ,abusing and raping me, they were known by the most like alcohol and cocaine, I simply called them “my new guides” into a new world which was speaking to me. Those people from the galaxy were strange, gummy, jointed; that iron music was green and red; those walls were lying on the floor and the only thing that I could do was to jump for not being hurt…

Virgil saw me in that scary hurricane; she took my arm and raised me up to her car. We were there when I started singing Christmas songs with giants with yellow heads which were on my right side and smiled to me fondly, traffic-lights instead were following us, may be they wanted to stop me and hit me with their coloured eyes…”come on Anne, let’s run away from them, they want to kill me, come on Anne” …I was hallucinated…    Fortunately Anne was lucid and very angry with me, unfortunately streets were slippery and drugs drove other cars too fast …

[…]          

 

The rain which touches my lips is red and ferrous now, there’s Anne’s blood inside; I am terrified understanding what has happened before. Immediately she turns her head to me and speaks: “drugs drive you crazy, drugs drive cars to accidents, and drugs drive you alone!” 

Then she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wheel…

 

IN THE BEGINNING IT WAS LOVE

In the beginning there was a void.

Only darkness, the disarming silence of the shadows.

At first there was only utter darkness.

In the beginning only two forms floated across the empty space,  Erotas and Tanatya.

They did not know what surrounded them, they did not really care.

It was not important for them to know where they came from or why they were there. They never bothered their minds with questions that concerned the meaning of existence. As long as they had each other, no matter disturbed them. It was enough for them to feel love and give it.

Love, this brought existence. This was what Erotas and Tanatya were made of.

One day Erotas was looking at Tanatya, contemplating her.

Tanatya  noticed  a touch of sadness, and went to him:

“Is there anything bothering you?” She asked.

Erotas felt such a weight inside him.

“I need to get it out” he thought.

Then he looked at his lover and he started to talk:

“You know how much I love you? So intensely that the emotion could live just by itself, survive and even create new life.

We can give form to that.

I would create shining warm light, like the one you have all around you. And  that light would cut the shade, giving life to all the colors we have never seen.

I can already see everything.

Water like a cobalt blue mantle and thousands of little sparkling lights reflected on it. In my minds wide plains of green, with scattered imperfections, marked with flowers that seem colorful spots.

You will see…Life will start to grow.

Hearts will start pulsing; life will slowly emerge in the ground, in the sky  touching the clouds. And all the winds, from the lightest breeze, to the gale, will drag sounds and fragrance all round, and everyone will taste it, and our love will live forever, and it will grow.

And we will call it Earth, in memory of us.”

So Erotas and Tanatya created the world.

The days emerged, calm and quiet.

Erotas and Tanatya constantly watched their world. It was like watching an enormous device. Everything there followed a cycle. The rain that had become oceans slowly became steam, then rain again. The same was for all the creatures. Everything that was born grew and then faded away back into the earth.

They always remained amazed before that sight. Especially Erotas. He started to spend a long time with his world.

He looked at his creatures with gentleness, talking to all of them. He was always there to make sure that nothing went wrong. He cared for those little things more than for himself, and slowly started to forget Tanatya.

He started leaving her all by herself and time flowed on.

Tanatya tried to lead him again to her, but it looked like he was lost in that view. When she asked him if he still loved her he answered:

“I do not know anything apart from what I can see.”

Hearing those words she went mad. She started shouting and all the space began to quiver. She pointed at Erotas and said:

“Now I will destroy the proof of this story; the memory of you and I. If love does not exist, the Earth has no sense any longer.

I will eliminate it. But slowly, in the same way as you have forgotten me.

I will create a creature made of hatred, which will live in the world and progressively destroy it.

It will start with two of them, then they will become millions and only grudge will prevail. They will originate War.

They will bear the end.

I WILL CALL THEM HUMANS.”

                                                                       

 

BELLA LUNA

She was running in the rain. The moon was peeping from the clouds and its reflection turned every drop into a diamond. The rain mixed with the girl’s tears.
Her name was Bella Luna. In Italian it meant beautiful moon… That was because her father’s last name was Luna and her mum loved the name Bella.
Bella Luna was running in the rain, because she was really scared. A few minutes before she had come out of a club and a black bat had got entangled in her hair.
She had screamed so loudly and in a moment the bat had become a boy, a gorgeous boy, that looked at Bella with deep, dark eyes.
- Good evening, Bella – he said.
The girl tried to breathe slowly, tried to come out of that nightmare. She took some steps backwards.
- What… What are you? – she whispered.
- Who. Who is the question…-?
Bella turned around and began to run. In that moment it had started to rain. And the rain mixed with Bella’s tears.
When she arrived in the park near her home somebody’s hands caught her arm and stopped her.
- Where did you believe to go?-
The boy took Bella under a big tree, where the rain couldn’t touch them.
- Leave me! Leave me now!!- screamed the girl, but he hold her strongly.
Bella decided that she couldn’t do anything to get free, so she looked at her kidnapper’s face . His eyes were shining with a vicious light, but they were incredibly beautiful, his lips were red, like cherries and let her see his white teeth. His hair was black like the night and long and straight… The rain hadn’t touched it.
- Who are you? – said Bella looking at him with a mixture of courage and fear.
- My name is Bill…- answered the boy with a smile.
- But… How do you know my name? What are you? – she was terrified.
- I’ve known you for many years and I was only waiting for this moment…-
- What?! Why?-
- I’m a vampire…- immediately the black light in his eyes became red and his face bent down on Bella’s neck. The last thing she could see were the tree leaves washed by the rain.

She looked at her reflection on the silver mirror. Her black, short hair stood up , gelled,  and her blue eyes were darkened by black kajal, but the most important difference was her skin. It had become white. White like porcelain.
She looked at her neck: two little red points were the signs of her metamorphosis.
- I don’t believe in vampires- she mumbled.
The legend said that vampires couldn’t see their reflections…
- Sometimes the things you believe to be the truth, are just fake.-
Bill appeared behind her with a mysterious smile.
- Yes. I’ve seen…-
Bella went to the window.
But the legend that vampires couldn’t live under the sun light was truth.
- Bella Luna – smiled Bill looking up to the moon. – Like this beautiful moon… Like you…-
- I’m thirsty- said Bella without hearing Bill’s words.
- I am too. Shall we go out? Now the guys are coming out of the pub and the disco.-
The girl nodded. Blood was the only important thing now.
Before going out Bella looked again at the moon. This new life wasn’t sad or worse than her earlier life, but killing every night was really difficult.
A quick, bloody hunt.
Her last wish stayed unsaid in the shadows while she followed Bill.