She was like a hedgehog, her position said: “do not dare approach me, or I’ll prick”. I’m sure she took the aisle seat on purpose, so that nobody attempts to sit next to her and start a chat. She was in her own world, and wanted to be left alone.
It was like
a school trip, only we were all grown-ups. Everybody else was talking, browsing
the internet, checking their mail or listening to music. She wasn’t doing any of it. She seemed
hostile, or scared. Or both, as at a closer look hostility is just hidden fear.
I wanted to
approach her despite all that, because I sensed she was someone good. I even
made the first few steps, I left my comfortable seat next to my work-colleague
and went down the aisle, towards the row where she was sitting. But I stopped about
a meter away from her. She lifted her face for a fraction of a second, looked
at me, and quickly turned away. It was a brief moment, but long enough to
notice that her eyes were red. I turned back, slowly, as if not to scare a wild
animal, and returned to my seat.
When we
left the bus, and were all walking towards the Oceanarium, I made sure I
levelled with her. And then I did it. I put my arm on her shoulder and asked:
-
Are
you sure everything’s alright?- Yeah, I’m absolutely fine. No problem whatsoever. – she said with an artificial smile on her face and gently, but firmly removed my arm from hers.
- But your eyes…?
- What’s wrong with them?
- They’re red. I thought something was the matter, and I’d like to help, if I can, at all, I mean, if you’d like me to – I stammered, suddenly losing my confidence.
- I’m wearing lenses, and the air-conditioning on the bus was disastrous to my eyes. – she looked straight into mine when she answered - And I didn’t get much sleep the night before. But thanks for asking. – she added, and speeded up, so as to show me she wasn’t looking forward to any company.
And there I was, standing in front of the building, alone, while everybody else was getting inside. I didn’t feel like joining them anymore. I felt like sitting down on a bench, taking out a sheet of paper and putting her down. I wanted to start like this “She sat on the bus, all curled up, like a hedgehog”.
And now I
have the beginning of the story, but I'm missing the rest. I could make it up, of course, as I’m a
Witch, and Witches are not bound by any rules, especially not the stick-to-the-truth ones.
But you’ve been thinking the narrator was a guy, weren’t you?
No, not a
guy. It was me. A very curious Witch. I’m not going to make up the rest of a
story, because that’s the whole point about my hedgehog girl – she doesn’t want
to be seen through. She’s good this way, leaving so much room for imagination.
I’ll leave her the way she is. With her hair slightly tangled by the wind,
walking away swiftly on her high-heeled shoes towards the Oceanarium building. You'll meet her there, if you want. But from there on it will become your story. Not mine.
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