Slaps face (episode n.1) Page 3

extraneous. Half thievish and half cheat. Funny no? I have opened the window style robot and I have stayed there, in an angle to look at him/it. From far. Serious. If I/you had been able I would have shot him.

  "Bushels badly? Made to look better. You are grown, it seems me. Also seem me grown thin."

  "I am as it seems me. I/you/they have not grown thin and I don't grow to this age anymore dad. I am always the same one. You rather than do you do us here? If mother discovers him/it it happens a country house."

  You/he/she has sat on the bed among my computer and the ashtray. Strange to tell him you/he/she has not dared to answer me. I must recognize him/it, I had never seen him/it this way. You/he/she has put on a hand among the hair, it always does him/it when it is in difficulty. I know him/it.

  "You know him/it that I love you, face from slaps."

  "Dad not to make the ridicule to pity me and not to call me face from slaps. You don't make her/it with me. You have been disappearing for three months, you have not even made me a phone call, an alone... and do you make me the sermon now?"

  I have seen him collapse. More depressed that never. You/he/she has made me punishment, cazzo. You/he/she has covered the face with the hand. My father that the thief does in the house where he lived and for junta with serves her/it as pity of Michelangelo. But must all to me happen?

  "Julia, is right, excuse me."

  Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me. But what this does it say? I am not a psico. I am fifteen years old. I must be understands, not to understand. It doesn't come me nothing to say. Silence.

  "You make me a coffee? I need it."

  We are moved in kitchen that we seemed two sleepwalkers in a film there. He hung of there and me on the other side. I don't even know as it makes him a coffee me, but I have tried to remember the movements. The water, dust, has hoped that out something came from that macchinetta. As it has happened I don't know him/it, but at the end I/you/they have succeeded there.

  "To school? Everything well?"

  "Beautifully."

  I have not said at all a lie, here. I didn't want to put to discuss me, that's all. If mine father attacks a philippic they are indeed pains. But you/he/she has been silent. Then you/he/she has raised again the serious look. I must say that its unstable humor was creating me some problem. A moment was his/her father that I knew, another a perfect lost stranger behind its thoughts. His/her little darlings missed me, here, that way of his to make me feel only. But above all I must tell him/it, its words missed me.

  "Your mother?"

  "The same one, knows always as it is her not the firm anybody."

  "Already, always the same."

  Silence, still silence. The look of my fixed father downward, me intenta to look at the table. A situation to throw him the flat ones behind. After two minutes I didn't make her/it anymore. I have started to vomit words, one behind the other, for fear of that enormous void, for fear to be risucchiata. Someone must also make the adult in this house.

  "Dad. because you have disappeared? And because you do him/it? I have felt mother say that you don't send her anymore the money, that there is another woman in your life, perhaps."

  I repeated some the things that his/her mother and aunt were said Patty faking to be by now a woman of world. But I had a big desire to put to cry me and to complain me about to tell his truth: what it missed me. The whole world and he that had lose before him/it, the breakfast the morning, the chatters perched in the room in front of the television, the assignments that it helped me to do, distracted and it foresees as only my father he/she succeeds in being, a look to the computer, one to me and one to the open book between us. And peace missed me that was in the house when he lived with us and we always had a lunch and a supper on the table and some laughter, because my mother those he/she doesn't know really whether to find her, kind if it is tired and depressed. It is also the vacations and the days when we went for a walk all and three, embraced as a family. Cazzo, I wanted a family, one of those of the publicity where smiles and good humor there are, where strong are of nothing because you have everything, everything that that a ragazzina wants and that is some love and harmony. But I perhaps magnify, there was not before everything this and we were a family part time, when it turned us, when we wanted to be him/it. The rest they were silences and you quarrel, bad mood and silences. However together we were three and it were beautiful and I would also have wanted to explain him that I am be liked if it returned home with us, I would have accepted even the sermons, here, and his/her adorable way to make me feel only. I shot cazzate instead. As it suits him to a fifteen-year-old that doesn't have the clear ideas and that it is in rotten blame, in turn.

  "Julia, is not things that concern you. We allow to lose."

  You/he/she has done for getting up and to go away. Beh, nobody would believe it, but to that point I have begun indeed to cry as a fountain. Sight I was never me this way. I howled and I cried, I cried and I howled with a desperation that I didn't even know to have inside, as if the world was ending in that instant, as if you/he/she had stabbed me. And you/he/she had come me from the belly a refrain that did this way: "you don't love me, you don't love me." I seemed possessed. We make indeed in short at times strange things. Me this thing here, this thing that my father didn't love more me I had never succeeded in saying her/it, not even to think her/it. I didn't know him/it. I was not me him granted. And now everything came out of a stroke, as when you remove the cork from the bottle and the water it races down and I was telling him/it him. I was howling him/it to him. I had broken the wall of the silence. Suddenly the rough thief that I had seen up to that moment has thrown down the mask and you/he/she has made a footstep toward of me, you/he/she has embraced me, and at that time I/you/they have returned the small Julia with his/her dad savior. When I was child I always went to beat from some part. He picked up me from earth, it pretended to beat with all the strength that had in body the guilty object of that whole pain and it made me return the smile. "I now systematize you, ugly snout" it said striking, for instance, the table and me I felt to be important, protected. God, that fixed that I have there. I have told you him that I always need tests.

  "Not to cry so, I pray you. You know him/it that me it is not true I adore you, face from slaps. You don't even know how much I love you. How can you think that can live without you?"

  Ok, the violins and the pupazzettis of the publicities missed only us. However in that whole happy ending sweet of American film I was well. My father embraced me. He/she embraced indeed me. It was again him. Three months of silence and doubts were going at that time away and I returned to pick up me the caresses and the little darlings. This was beautiful and it made me return to hope in the world.

  "Dad, tells that it happens? Calm, I will be a grave with mother, I don't tell her nothing, but I have need to know."

  "You are too much small" you/he/she has said him detaching himself/herself/itself from me.

  "I am too much small to understand, but not to be abandoned, true? Do you think about being able to do as it seem you? Am I your daughter, do you remember him/it to you? I am one responsibility of yours"

  Also this I don't know how you/he/she has come me, but I must recognize that I have a certain instinct, I exactly know as to blackmail him/it. How does it now escapes my father?

  "There is the crisis. you know him/it what the crisis is?"

  "Certain. A sad economic period as that that we are living. I have felt him to the newscast. Is there a lot of people that is killed because it loses the job. but you? Do you kill yourself true at all? You have him a job. And does thing enter it with you, with us the crisis?"

  "It enters it. Julia enters it. L' I have lost the job. I don't have more even a house. Have I/you/they returned to live with the grandparents, do you understand? It is not easy for me to tell this your mother or to show me this way. How do I do to come to take you? Where do I bring you if want to go out with you? They are in difficulty, Julia, series difficulty. And' a pe
riod, will pass only obviously. I will return before Soon that of, but it take time. I must work us. I/you/they have come here for taking back some documents some papers. I want to sue the firm, to see if I succeed in going out out of this situation, to take back my dignity."

  I have felt stupid, stupid and happy. Felice I would say because that whole tangle of feelings and abandonment that I had imagined around me it didn't exist, however also worried for my father and for our possessions for my future. Would I have become poor suddenly? What of it of me and he would you/he/she have been? And my mother, could thing think? You has always said that dad is a mollaccione, that makes him put on the feet from everybody. You/he/she would now have had still a confirmation. And then this history of the suicide. At all all those that pardon the job they are killed, no? A vortex in short. And I have stopped crying. Definitely. I have looked at him as a daughter his/her father it looks in difficulty.

  "Excuse dad. Didn't I know him/it, could not I imagine. I can help You?"

  "You? Certain, to fall. All it takes is now speaking, you take the pot of the spaghetti child"

  You/he/she has started the water boiling and you/he/she has left me there, alone, while he looked for his/her papers. And' disappeared in the room. And I have I have put to the stoves, with a