Chapter 31.
But nobody touched Caino.
Because Caino went out of jail before the transgressors to the divine command could effect their intention of justice.
The door of the old St. Vittore opened wide him on the light. The eyes of Angel had to adapt before giving a facing the mournful figure that attended him/it. I outline dark against sun, sad light suits, femininity punished by the affliction.
Helen, only Helen.
For the justice, the accused's guarantor. For the accused, inflexible keeper from the eyes full of pain. So much love didn't deserve words, so only a sign of smile runs among the two. Then a long silent walk conducted them up to house.
Side beside, under the scorching sun in the Milanese summer, it seemed they followed an invisible coffin, whose content had to be known to both. And as they reached Cadorna the walk it continued really in that direction, as if they had to do it covers to a forced station, as if a grisly pilgrimage could relieve their life.
They were there, long metals her/it, among the plants of the Sempione, where at night the cars dart for passing from the White Cafe to the Old Fashion. They passed to low head, as if you/they had not done him he/she waits for, as if they didn't know what cries you/he/she had been wet from the blood. Is it in effects, because you/they would ever have had to know him/it?
He/she anchors for a long time the walk it lasted, so much that you/they reached house in the late afternoon, presses almost to the sunset.
The house was always that. Theirs.
His/her parents, Adele and Glenn, with the broken heart, you/they had again estranged from Italy after being him vainly fallen to the news of the arrest. Angel them you/he/she had never wanted to meet and Helen had convinced them to return him of it in Holland.
«I open me?» First brave words, voice of woman that whispers on the steps.
Simply angel nodded.
The door opened on a lived house and cleaning up. In the slanting light that entered from the windows, the scene that he offered him was everything the contrary of what he/she remembered to have left. Around, signs for him unmistakable, those of a happy-go-lucky age, those of Helen.
You looked around as if it were a guest.
«You have been here?»
«Only after mother and dad have departed.» Angel turned toward the corridor that brought to his/her room. «Your life has remained there inside, I have not touched her.» It hastened to reassure him/it.
«You are wrong you. There inside I have not left anything.»
«It is void then you will find again.»
It went to the kitchen, where tramontava the sun, to bless the supper in family. To cook without light bulb, up to that the eyes had allowed him/it. A pasta ever burns, never a burnt soffritto.
Angel had grown thin and Helen from his/her par. To cook together would perhaps have made more comforting also the to eat, so few gestures brought them to prepare an essential supper, that you/they started to still consume in silence.
It was not good, nothing more it had taste. A watered ready juice as soon as an insipid pasta, envelopes of meats to the limit of the expiration attended to replace a second.
Picture of dissolution, deep wounds too much and too much recent. But the silence at least, that deceptive hideaway, had to be sweeps away, both knew him/it. There were no more secret to defend, neither treasures to be guarded.
«Angel» he/she called him/it.
«You keep silent.»
«Angel, prays you.»
«You keep silent!» sbottò incazzato as an impotent husband. A lash for Helen, a nail shot in the heart.
You chased away again the tears in throat. It was not the moment of the weeping yet. And it begged.
«Because you hate your liberty?»
Angel seemed to that point to find interest for the words of his/her/their sister.
«You speak of liberty? You were not you that that to the high school one day told me" You liberty me ago fear?" Then your fear was well secret. Only if enslaved we can survive. And what we have lived together, is the night before last the confirmation of it.»
You/he/she had returned him so on the point of the lips the night of the sabba to his/her romantic way. It repented instantly but for his/her fortune Helen seemed to want to leave far even more that memoirs. At least for the time being.
«You are right. I am still afraid, I have even more of it. Because I have been alone, of a line. And you/he/she is seemed me to go crazy.»
«But you are never alone.» The brims a consolatory trap. And pointing out his/her own head. «The others. The others inside of they never abandon you to you.»
Helen he allowed to suffer a desperate anger.
«Thing say, Angel, frightens me! You speak as a psychopath. Cannot you wait to give voice to your obsessions, true? The others inside of you, the only others of which have ever cared, because always to you they brought. You have been so thoughtful to lend them thousand ears and thousand bawls. And of the others, those that you/they live around you, are not wanted never yourself to realize. As of Laura.» Laura there is not. A thought that was him disgusting, also for the naturalness with which you/he/she had appeared on the surface. And instead of rintuzzare the assault of the memory, let her/it sink. «You have worn out her, you have squeezed her/it to get a pleasure that existed only in your mind. Have always pursued nonexistent pleasures without never reaching them, as if these shouted you" is late, is late!" Have you seen in that hole of culo you are fallen now?»
An anal country of the wonder, without skirt neither toy balloon, narrow among the crags of the duodeno, the darkened senses, in nanny of the only sense of smell. It perfectly shared the analysis of his/her situation. What would ever have accepted it was the proposed solution. For her the street of exit was to kill cacare. For him it was to let him suffocate.
«I have always acted as if the world were worthy of mine to exist. Now he is avenging. Others, too many over me, have decided me guilty. And I cannot oppose me.»
«Because once more you consider yourself only. Alone you cannot oppose yourself. But us yes. Together.» Together with his/her/their sister it had five-year periods of memoirs. Pages and pages of life that one were bundled on the other, written so dense to appear by now illegible. «Angel you are not alone. You have never been him/it, even if you are never wanted to realize of it.» From which pages it drew? «I have always admired you, while from you only you built your life. You didn't need me, yet there has always been: of my devotion you have always been aware. But now that you feel your destiny shatter himself/herself/themselves in the hands, that your only strengths are not enough for you more, you try the confusion of the defeat. But I am here always, you have only to look me with other eyes. Don't seek the admiration that you gave anymore for discounted. But you do I strive him/it to come to look for her/it, because I have never lost her.»
How much affection, what cares! Such a devoted love that only himself was able to give him. It started so to recognize another himself, thought with the apostrophe.
«You want me innocent to all the costs. Do you believe to succeed in putting again all of my guilts?»
«I want you free. Free also to stain even more you of defamatory guilts. But that accusation, Angel, has to remove from you her of back. Otherwise you will die. And with you, I will die also. If you don't want to do him/it for you, fault at least for me.»
For me, that am another victim of your guilts, you/he/she would have had to add. Or what more than you are a lot, because you complete.
«I know that you are you svenando for that lawyer» it told her with how much gratitude could afford. «But even if I submitted me to him, you know well that won't be enough.»
«It is for this that you will need me.»
There was something in that sentence that suddenly upset him/it, and in that look, in that bold smile. The brittleness of Helen was enfeebled too much in hurry. It didn't ask her questions, but it under
stood that she didn't wait anything else other than to reveal the plan.
«I can make to acquit you Angel. Because I can be your alibi.»
You/he/she had gotten up from his/her place and is sat nearby him, as if the proximity could confirm its ideas.
«I don't understand» it said him finding nearby her to him.
You smiled blessed, illuminated by a sudden fury.
«I will say that I was with you that night. Here, with you.» The gratification for the gimmick put on her as a vestitino of the communion. It was a rascal that told the prank to his/her/their brother, hoping to tear him a laughter of complicity. But never as that night, the heritage of their infancy appeared an agonizing messinscena.
«What sense it has, Helen?» The regret didn't succeed in hiding the worry. «You have not now told him/it up to, as could you result believable later so much time?»
To that point, the unthinkable one happened. Helen started to shed tears. Not to cry, as if those drops didn't come from the heart, but if the same creating. An emotional laboratory that froze the blood to Angel.
«Your honor.» It threw above with the nasino, while it was declaiming with childish vocina. «I didn't want to hide him/it. But I was ashamed so much. I am not a bad girl, your honor.»
«Helen, stop her/it, I pray you.» But to pray didn't serves her/it to nothing. A capricious child cannot be begged, he can favor only.
«Yes, your honor, Angel is never gone out of his/her house that night. I was with him. Like many other nights, from so many years.»
The small one crouched him to his/her feet, begging in knee. You supported with the hands on his/her legs, approaching the visino to the basin.
«We have never been able to say him/it because we were ashamed. But now, that the danger of a great injustice impends on him, anymore him I cannot keep silent.»
The hands of Helen stirred on the strong thighs, they caressed devoted the muscles. You/he/she would have liked to kick her/it, you/he/she would have had to do him/it. But it tasted an infancy already lived and that taste started to inebriate him/it.
«How, has not your honor, understood still it?» He/she didn't succeed in dissuading the eyes from his/her porca look, from child porca. Child that yesterday he/she asked lights on thing his/her body you/he/she would have become and that today it already had everything to teach. «Angel and I have a relationship. From years. For a long time.»
The fingers were runs to the zipper, but before you/they could graze her/it, Angel was jumped standing, rejecting her/it.
«But what bushels saying, Helen? Of which relationship you speak? I don't have any intention to invent me a similar lie.»
«Lie?» Helen also got up furious. «Lie is that that pronounces now!»
It drew near him, again languid.
«We have lied to ourselves for a whole life. But we now know him/it: you and I belong there.»
Let's know now it. Now that he had started to forget him it realized him/it her. But it didn't have guilt of it: others had shouted him/it to him, rousing her/it hidden, crouched in the cavern of his/her fears and pushing her/it to strength toward the light.
«It is our destiny, my angel, written by the birth.» You dampened the lips with the language and it disclosed her, as a maternal womb destined to give birth to the Eternal Life. «We complete there and we are the one of the other. We don't know only it us: they also know him/it the others.»
Let's know him/it us because they know him/it the others, you/he/she would have had to say for giving the correct hierarchy to the awareness. That others again involved seemed the quotation of a medieval auctoritas. How Angel could you/he/she contest her/it?
«Helen.» it whispered the breath broken in breast to half mouth.
«Angel, what we have lived the night before last.»
«Not to say a word» it painfully got by from the throat, pits an order or a supplication.
«You cannot now throw back yourself.» You were nearby again him the body that already licked up him/it. «You have made me make a footstep that I have never wanted. You have the duty to come with me, until after all.»
«Until after all where?» It was not able anything else other than to minimize, to dismiss, to desecrate. «I have forced you, it is true, to take part to a farce: those that you have lived are only senseless hallucinations.»
Helen pushed him/it away from itself as prey of an obsession ever emerged.
«It is not true, it is not true!» it shouted with how much breath had in body. «You know that is not true! That light, that shone us inside, the sounds, the colors. The others have spoken to me, Angel, and you/they have spoken to me of you. And you were mine and me I was them. Was insane, because have never been very happy! I have seen, I have finally seen everything. And you with me!»
I discharge him to it went appeasing, as if the thousand bawls that spoke through her had realized to be made him discover.
«We have been together also the night before last. Where you were, I was also me.»
And what followed it reawakened calmed dreams.
Helen, beautiful also when marked by the pain, perhaps for this even more it started to unbutton himself/herself/themselves the blouse.
The neckline widened on the candid bra on the abdomen. It also untied the button of the pantalonis, leaving that the edge of the panties of simple white cotton discovered him.
The edge of the desires, over which Angel saw to slip himself/herself/themselves her hand, and to start to torment himself/herself/themselves.
Helen left half open the eyes, panting to closed mouth, as if he/she wanted to pick up every energy before howling his/her own pleasure. Or as if the pleasure didn't know whether to find him/it.
And then it returned him I set, the anxious sister, sure that he would have shown him/it to him.
«You don't want to return child with me?»
Smorfiosa puttanella, beloved for a long time. The invitation to the game was irresistible but the time was by now broken.
«No, Helen.» he/she answered her. «Not after what has happened that night.»
Liar: he/she didn't even know what had happened. It tried her to explain him him, unheeded new queen.
«But don't you understand that really that night has brought us to our indissolubilità? We were inseparable.» he/she remembered him with joy.
«We are brother and sister.» Kindly it picked up the memory Angel. «We were born together, grown together.»
«And we are desired together there» it expedited Helen. «We are children of a superior order, brothers in the desire.»
Stricken.
Helen hastened. And he realized of as the words they sometimes have a history.
A history that maledì to have started to listen.
«Thing you have said?» he/she asked her removing himself/herself/itself.
Any fear grazed her sleep. It smiled, the young girl as Pollicino that it rediscovers the road of house.
«What is true. We are united for a long time and forever, not as two deadly communes. Both we want that the other is really what it is. Alive with me, sweet Angel, and let's satisfy together us some breath of the air.»
Angel horrified.
Those words, those damned words, that by now you/he/she was convinced to have written, do you snatch so that who, if not from the legitimate owner?
Angel stared at Helen as if he saw her/it for the first time.
In the lost look he/she read the pride of the guilt. And that revelation stole him the soul.
It withdrew of a footstep, then of another. A frightened baby to the presence of his/her nightmare.
Raced in his/her room, closed again it brings her/it to his/her shoulders. In his/her chaos he/she was wanted to feel sure, but it was not able. Children you/he/she cannot be returned, not when you/he/she has been started to quantify the weight of the truth.
The room was dark and intact the spoiled air. It was true, Helen had not en
tered there.
It was as if you/he/she had wanted that he met again him with that obscene night.
The shirt was still thrown on the bed, nearby raggomitolata the cover. That stained.
Stained as the shirt, as if shortly after I squirt him/it someone you/he/she had supported her on the damp seed.
Shortly after. Not times later, when you/he/she would have been dry.
Helen was there beforehand.
«I was here already, before you arrived.»
The voice slipped under the door, as if it corrected thoughtful to reassure the doubts.
By now he/she knew. Both knew.
The baby faded away, you/he/she was not right to be anymore. By now you/he/she had thrusted the nasino where it didn't owe.
It reopened the door and Helen, a stupendous murderess, was there, still unbuttoned, with the heart at sight.
«What you have done?» he/she asked Angel trembling.
You smiled. Then it poured a tear. But it didn't stop smiling.
«What you have done?» it howled desperate.
It appropriated her the face and it pushed away her. It pushed her violently in stay and it threw her/it on the couch.
You covered him with the braccias, as if it attended a discharge of barrel, that however didn't arrive.
Sobbing and laughing reassured him and it started sitting from good child.
«I am your sister Angel. I have to defend you.»
«To defend me from who? From a ragazzina?»
«To defend you from yourself» it told him sure. «I have always believed that you had come to the world to protect me but I were wrong me. I was me that I had to protect you and to drive you. Was I a bait, do you understand? Behind which have raced for the whole life. Just now that you had to reach me, you were about to lose you. I have had to stop me and to pick up you.»
Anger, frustration, pain, compassion. Nausea. Angel was massacred. How to go out of it, if not unloading I set her anger? The hands, the hands wanted to shatter her madness to suon of hits. But the punishment was even more a fierce torment. And that body discinto, spread out on the couch as a victim, an unbridled provocation.
«You were here, you have seen everything.» It threw again her I set the disgust.
«Yes, I have seen. I have seen your siparietto the hunger with which you panted to that empty hull. When you have closed the eyes, I have acted, as a queen that protects his/her people.»
Or a morbid sister that marks the territory.
«You have written you to my place.»
«You slept as a pup.» You weakened in the memory. «I have invited the cagnetta, that immediately is raced by his/her master.»
Angel schifato wanted to oppose he anchors.
«You bushels lying» it said, denying himself. «You cannot have does him you. Not for as you/he/she is happened.»
«You want to know how you/he/she is happened?» No that he/she didn't want him/it. Just for this any glie or you/he/she would have avoided. «Wait here me.» Helen got up from the couch as a concubine that he takes the time to get ready himself/herself/themselves.
Distorted roles, broken life. Angel was not ready for everything this. Nothing and nobody had ever prepared him/it to so much torment.
As habit reacted it suggested him: raced in the kitchen and it went to uncork the bottle of a liqueur of which he/she didn't even read the label. You/he/she was distilled pure, it burned along the esophagus. But it was relief in comparison to the deep burning of the soul. Damned soul, already ready to brown among the flames of the hell. Bentornato in house, Child my beloved.
Helen reached him/it in the kitchen, with the hands hidden behind the back. It looked at him/it malicious, as to attend a wince of curiosity that would never have come. This way it broke the delay.
«Ta gives!» The sound effect also accompanied the to appear of a tool of pleasure and death. To that sight, Angel felt to miss.
It was one strap-on. A perfect reproduction of a big masculine fault, ready to be worn by dominant females.
The gastric acids leaned out in mouth, pushed by her indifference: Laura had been killed with that rubber cazzos.
«You/he/she has arrived of run flood of hopes. You had to see her/it, it scurried about in the dark, regardless of every danger. I have stopped her that it was still on street Pagan. You/he/she has recognized me, it seemed surprise, but in a certain sense flattered. I knew him/it that that misunderstanding was not able whether to entangle her/it. Does he/she kiss well, do you know? You had chosen really a good lover. Sin for you not to have ever used her/it.»
It continued the story, glorifying himself/herself/itself of as thin appreciations and caresses well you arrange you/they had convinced the ragazzina to kneel, to extract from his/her braghes that pretense and to put in scene an artificial fellatio.
«That boccuccia would have emptied you the coglionis» it provoked him/it. «You/he/she has succeeded in making to bathe me while I was looking her/it at ciucciare a plastic piece: who knows thing would have done with a true bargain. With yours.»
You/he/she had grabbed him/it to him with strength. Angel tightened the teeth but you/he/she didn't give her satisfaction to wriggle out himself/herself/themselves.
This way the hold turned him into caresses. It is to reached consistence, he/she left him/it free.
«You would have liked to shoot her your astute seed in throat? I have thought there me to make to reach him/it destination.»
The tests, build to art.
«You have picked up me him while I was sleeping.»
«You have overturned I set a sea of passion. And from that sea I have drawn precious drops.»
«Precious for thing? To insert me?»
«To insert you?» it repeated her. «What ugly way that uses for defining the salvation.»
To save him/it with the jail. To save him/it from the jail. The female owner he was regaining the male. And its thirteenth rib would have made him/it.
«Also my skin you have succeeded in scattering on the scene of the crime?»
New detail, that Helen wanted to show useless.
«Thing serves you know him/it?» he/she asked him disdainful. «You have to stop to think her/it about the death.»
Then Helen the surprises indeed. With the usual elegance, him riabbottonò the suits. It bent the head of side an usual, comprehensive and brotherly gesture, that announced only sweetness. It smiled at him.
«Now that everything is finished, we have defeated the death.» It laced the button of the pantalonis for last, and there, caressing, he/she left both the hands on the abdomen. «Our fruit won't die anymore. Because it is not born from a deadly love.»
It was not more possible to shinily oppose himself/herself/themselves to the dissolution of every logic, of every ethics, of every humanity. Not that you/he/she was ever rubbed him of it nothing of the human humanity, you/he/she had always considered her a well devised legend but nothing more.
Yet, slipped together with the scarp on the fund of the abyss that him same you/he/she had contributed to dig, he/she saw entirely a new world. Looking in on, to see from where you/he/she was fallen, it discovered the existence of the sky. Even if every gesture of his/her life, every gesture of all the lives, would have blocked always him of it the meaning.
«Thing is this new devilry?» the churches dismay. Helen smiled at him.
«Yes. You have really reason.» The caresses on the abdomen didn't stop. «It will be really a beautiful little devil.»
«But of what cazzo do you speak, Helen?» it bursted out, the strangled voice.
«You have understood very well it: I am not only me to have need that you are free.»
Angel horrified. Perhaps even more that for the preceding revelation.
«But as it is possible?»
«You ask me him? Have I dragged there you, memoirs?»
Was it that the revenge therefore? The pain of the constraint, of the castrat
ion, of the frustration and street assonando, had conceived such a damaged fruit?
Angel was forced to remember. Between quiver and nightmares, it considered to the night of the session. He/she remembered because he/she knew, he/she knew why he/she craved. He/she craved because it ignored all the consequences of his/her mad game.
«It is not true.» You smarcò stepping backwards but the plan of the kitchen arrested its useless escape. «It is not true, you are deceiving me. You cannot be pregnant.»
«No, do you say?» And laughed. It didn't find of better.
«Stop her/it, Helen» it shouted crying. «You are not you!»
«You are right, I am the only one not to be me!» it threw again him I set. «All are me: beings that occupy me beforehand that I was born, dribbling men. And also you, finally. You have left me inside a part of you. You/he/she is growing and it is our child. Do you want to touch him/it?»
It drew near, offering the abdomen to the look of a just chosen father.
«Not to approach you» it summoned her. Helen heard again.
«You are afraid» he/she ascertained saddened. «But as you can have of it? It looks, Angel: it is our child.»
«It is not my child.» But her eyes didn't admit any different truth. «It is not my child!» it howled her with how much anger had in body.
«Yes that it is him/it. You have also seen him/it you, that night. You have seen what you/he/she was happening. And what consequences you/he/she would have involved.»
The nest.
It was therefore real. Whatever hallucination would have deserved very as to be.
Father and mother.
Fathers and mothers innumerable and hidden, alive and parasitic, you/they had squeezed their life to create them one of it.
The life of Angel and Helen it ended here therefore, torn by their hands and given to a perfect extraneous. The prisoner and the murderess were pursued the whole life: the union was the end of it.
«You will love him/it, true?» his/her mother begged him/it approaching himself/herself/itself. «You will love our child?»
For Angel instead only weeping, a desperate weeping to wash away the lordume of those words.
And if in hand, for the desperation, had you/he/she tightened the tool of the salvation suddenly?
«Love me, Angel.» Helen was by now him of forehead, to beg a kiss an embrace. The reassuring embrace of his/her/their father to the family everybody. «Love us. You are not happy?»
The stench of the last folly had reached him/it. No, it was not happy. You/he/she would never have been him/it.
Anymore.
The torment of its soul was completed in that instant.
Helen strabuzzò the eyes: that unexpected pain to the abdomen poured again him in its soul. But it immediately understood.
A warm and sticky liquid dirtied the right hand of Angel. What anchor had not stopped shutting spasmodic the handle of the long knife from kitchen.
If the was found there, under hand, fatally supported on the plan, and you/he/she had found so natural to grab him/it.
«I am sorry» it went out among his grinded teeth, the throat it bargains over and the mouth that slobbered sincere desperation.
The blocked eyes of Helen stared at him/it incredulous: you/he/she had still betrayed her. And this time, forever.
It stared at him/it, lacerated in the bowel. Yet he/she didn't want to draw away himself/herself/themselves, as if the embrace of his/her/their brother could free her/it from that of the assassin.
He/she cried.
Any more word went out of its mouth, neither of hate neither of pain. Neither of love.
Helen he left so to die among the braccias of Angel, leaving that every instant of its death was shared from the twin, as every instant of the life had been him/it.
Bad Invisible Teachers Page 32
