A week later
- Stop taking yourself for my mother! I mumbled, keeping my head stubbornly glued to the TV.
- You can look at me when I talk to you at least!?
With a huge sigh, I tear my eyes away from my series and plant them in those, furious, of my sister... who has incidentally become my surrogate mother. Hands on her hips, she stares at me, both dismayed and annoyed.
- How long are you going to let yourself go like this?
I raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise brilliantly. Yet I know perfectly well what she blames me for. It's three o'clock in the afternoon, today is Thursday... and I'm still in my pajamas. My messy hair partly hides my dirty face, I have a packet of cookies next to me and I haven't showered in...a while. And to add another layer to the picture, I got fired two days ago from my job.
My boss called me to offer his condolences and then, without going through any further detours, he told me that I had to replace a colleague. This is where I started being rude. He didn't like it, my dismissal letter followed. I am therefore unemployed, practically penniless, with an astronomical rent to pay. The joys of living on the banks of the Thames and of being human... And if we add the Shadow squatting in my apartment, we arrive at a totally... normal equation.
- What do you want me to do ? I growled, shoving yet another cookie in my mouth.
- I do not know ! she exclaims back before sighing. Find a job, go for a walk in the bathroom, clean the apartment!
I pout and elicit another sigh from my sister.
- I know it's difficult, but make an effort. Even a tiny one. Changing you would already be huge. I'm not asking you to tidy up my room yet, even if it's going to have to be done one day...
I frown more and she notices it without difficulty. A week since her body passed under the torches of the undertaker, and she already wants to see her things in boxes.
- I know that my presence does not help, she resumes more gently. But we will have to take the leap. Tidy up my room and find yourself another roommate to pay the rent.
- No one can replace you.
- Good Lord...
I roll my eyes at God's statement, never having been able to please that side of Adele. His beliefs have always pissed me off. A few years after the Black Silence, Angels began to rally churches, temples and synagogues. Every sacred site still standing has been feathered by winged men, determined to spread the good word. And the truth. God exists. God is unique. And God has many names. Allah, Buddha, Jehovah... form only one being. Not the one who created man, but the first bipedal form. That having subsequently fragmented into multiple terrestrial species, each more different than the next.
Then Man took the ascendancy over other creatures. Angels and Demons, children of heaven, helped end the planetary conflict and have since occupied an important place in human society. The religious wars were resolved in a jiffy. Of several dozen religious movements, very few have survived the Truth of the Angels. Adele completely adhered to the words of these poultry. For my part... I sported the least sermon that I could hear in his company, and I will not begin now.
- I'm not asking to be replaced! Adele sighs, sitting down next to me. I'm just trying to make you understand that if you don't move your little ass off the couch, you're going to find yourself outside pretty quickly. We didn't go out of our way to get you back on the streets, did we?
Strangely, my cookie no longer has the same flavor. I return my attention to the series still on television. A modern imbecility featuring an absurd romance between a Vampire and a human. A timeless classic... that suddenly gives me hives. Quickly, I turn off the set, putting the bag down on the coffee table. Then, under the watchful eye of my sister, I get up and head to the kitchen, to begin a major tidying up. Faced with my determination, Adele's face broke into a magnificent smile. I try to block out his sudden good mood.
- I warn you right away, I said, brandishing a threatening finger in his direction. I'm not going to find a new roommate or another apartment. There's no way I'm sorting your room right now. So I'm going to look for a job instead... and take a shower.
- Yes !
She applauds, jumping around the room like a little elf. Despite myself, Adele manages to make me smile. I put away the box of cookies as my shadow calms down.
- Come on, let's start by cleaning this pigsty! she declares, again very authoritative.
I grumble as I grab the broom before turning to her in a bad mood. Let's just say housekeeping and I... we've never been on very good terms.
- I imagine that your ghost status spares you the household chores?
His huge smile speaks for itself and I groan, before getting to work.
- In any case, I support you morally, Adele reassures me behind my back.
- Super...
I make my way to the TV, cursing the countless junk lying around on the floor. And, before Adèle makes me the slightest remark, I prefer to direct the discussion to another subject.
- Since it's been a while, can you clarify one or two points for me?
Her silence makes me look up at her, but her smile reassures me somewhat.
- Of course, she finally answers, sitting down on the kitchen counter. I will do my best to enlighten you.
- All in good time.
I change the garbage bag and go back to cleaning the floor, my mind occupied by a few questions running through my head for a while.
- Well... So, what is a Shadow? I know what most people know, which is that ghosts exist. Our history lessons have served us well and I have vague memories of what they say about the Black Silence... but the term you use is unknown to the battalion.
- I can summarize what I learned more, even if I do not have much.
- Say it.
She clears her throat, takes a deep breath and speaks in a soft voice.
- The Shadows stand out from the simple Ghosts by their essence. If a Ghost can return by the mere presence of a nearby Necromancer, the Shadow is reminded by the urgent situation that a loved one is going through.
- That's to say ? I am in danger ?
- You tried to kill yourself, Satine.
I look away first, uncomfortable at the idea of revisiting this episode. Adele realizes this and chooses not to insist.
- So, if I'm still here, it's because you're not... balanced.
I repeat that word as if it were the worst insult on the planet, and Adele winces slightly.
- I have no other words in mind. But to put it plainly, as long as you don't get better, I won't leave you alone.
- And it is you who decides when you will leave me?
- You suspect not. But the Ferryman senses these things coming and will come looking for me, to take me away.
- Where ?
- In heaven, I hope. I cannot remain on Earth indefinitely, and I know that you are perfectly aware of this. This is no longer my home here.
As if to back up his point, I accidentally bump into the counter and the broom handle goes through my sister's chest. I hardly hold back a yelp of fear, not being yet well accustomed to this novelty.
- And you... you have already met other Shades? I stammered, clumsily retrieving the broom.
- Yes. When you sleep, when your consciousness is dormant, I can roam freely in the BetweenWorld.
Where dwell the ghosts about to enter paradise... or hell, if we are to believe the Angels and the maxims of the Believers.
- In fact, adds Adèle, in a lighter voice. When you're unconscious, I can't stay in your world. You are my anchor here. If you die, I will immediately and forever enter paradise.
This idea makes me shudder, for a very simple reason, which hadn't occurred to me until now. Adèle has her place in paradise, and has always done so. It is pure, luminous. And she managed to keep her kindness and her joie de vivre, despite the hardships strewing our way. Me... I know I'm much less sparkling. And my suicide, if not already punished by God, could have sent me directly underground, where no light remains. In hell.
- When you wake up, I feel it and I join you, concludes Adele, far from my current concerns.
- Can't you leave until I'm asleep?
- Yes, I still keep my free will. And you should know that staying here drains my batteries, hence my frequent absences.
- That's why you weren't here all the time when I woke up this week.
- So. But it is important to specify that, when I am not close to you, you are able to summon me, if you wish.
- Oh good ?
- You just have to think hard about me and I'll be right there. Normally.
- Normally ?
I finish tidying up the kitchen, glancing sideways at her.
- Only very rare cases allow me not to answer your calls, explains Adele calmly, contemplating her joined hands. Cases which, for the moment, remain very vague. Beyond that, I can't move around on Earth like before. As I told you, you are my anchor and if I stray too far from you, I will return to the EntreMonde, waiting for my... batteries to recharge. See our bond as an invisible thread. If it breaks, it takes time before it repairs itself.
The idea of her disappearing all of a sudden paralyzes me, but I force myself to move, without appearing anything. If Adèle wasn't preoccupied with something else, she would undoubtedly have asked me what was going on in my head.
- And you are like a Ghost, for the others? I ask him as I walk down the hall. I mean... many of us see you or...
- Nope. You are the only one.
One less thing to explain to those close to you. The Ghosts, since the Black Silence, are known to all. But when it comes to Shadows, that's big news for me. And to say that Cicerone is supposed to have depicted all the Creatures of this world... We are being lied to, and that does not surprise me.
- And what are you doing in the EntreMonde, apart from recharging your batteries?
- I don't know, she reveals to me as she enters my room. I know I belong there, I feel at peace, safe... but I don't know what I'm doing. It's as if, each time I came back here, I forgot everything that was happening in the EntreMonde.
- Odd...
- Maybe it's better this way?
I shrug my shoulders, not really convinced, then grab some clothes on the way before heading for the bathroom. I drop my clutter on the toilet bowl and come across my reflection in the mirror. Adele's is superimposed in the distance and I smile sadly, returning her melancholy gaze. His blue eyes cloud over in obvious grief as mine go from a moonless night to a bottomless pit. My pupils, usually very dark brown, can sometimes give the impression that a creature is hiding in my abyss. A dark, vile being. Quite the opposite of Adèle for whom we would give the Good Lord without confession. From an early age, she has always aroused admiration. The little girl with two sapphires, pearly skin and two blond duvets.
Obviously, I suffer from the comparison. The ugly duckling never got bigger with age. From a mixed-race kid with hair cascading like a slick of oil over her frail shoulders, I became a young woman with a tough, almost frightening gaze, and a much stronger frame. It has this effect, to have the least bone broken before its ten years. To toughen up, to give the blows one by one. Twenty-six years old, I feel like I've weathered enough storms to have lived a hundred lifetimes. And meeting my sister's gaze makes me think that the last storm is far from behind me.
- Adele... Did you suffer when you died? I whispered without turning my head from the mirror. The police assured me that was not the case, but I want to hear it from you.
Adèle was the mother of our duo for everything that was decision-making or life choice. But when it came to delving back into our past and into the underworld of society...it was always my word that spoke. Because of this, I always spared my sister from turning to darkness. I couldn't stand his spirit wrapping itself in a black cloak, to look like mine. I preferred to merge into the shadows to let it shine. It wasn't a sacrifice...just my instincts that made me do it. Imagining that she suffered during the last moments of her life, while I did everything to protect her from the slightest violence is like a knife to the heart.
- If you only knew how scared I was, she tells me in a thin breath. This poor deer crossed the road so quickly... I did everything to avoid it. But the brakes failed... and I couldn't stop. I remember the shock, the brutality of the impact... then I woke up.
She pauses, but doesn't even seem to notice. And when she resumes, lost in her awful memories, her eyes are strewn with a thousand tearful stars.
- The airbag worked and I got out of the vehicle. Hard, but I succeeded. I was cold, I was in pain and I was lost. I was scared, Satine. I was so scared. I felt the wind slapping my cheeks as if real hands had taken hold of the elements. Then I saw headlights... I thought of you. Until the last second. Until my body is thrown into the air. Until I disappear, to come back to you.
I see her regain color at the end of her story. For my part, my skin has become almost as white as his, and I hold on to the piece of furniture, gasping. As if I had taken the full brunt of his accident car.
- I'm sorry I wasn't there, Adele. And... I won't ask you again.
She gives me a faint smile, then gestures vaguely to my pile of clothes.
- I'll let you change, she informs me in a distant tone before leaving the room.
And without even giving me a chance to breathe, she walks through the closed door as if she didn't exist. I almost collapse and catch myself again at the cabinet, limbs trembling. Swallowing hard, I take a few nervous steps and slide my fingers over the smooth, hard surface of the doors. Obviously, Adele would never have been able to pass through the door during her lifetime. And if she had spared me this kind of surprise at first, it seems that spare me is a time long gone. I'll have to get used to it, you have to believe. Letting out a sigh, which says a lot about my state of mind, I undress and slip into the shower. Much to my relief, the water is not freezing and there are no suspicious smells coming from the pipes. Quick drying
- Adele, I'm ready!
But Adele is no longer there. After a time of absolute terror, I manage to regain control and contemplate my living room without really seeing it, tempted to summon my sister. I change my mind at the last moment, not knowing if she left me to recharge her batteries, as she says so well, or only because she needs to be alone. Since the next few hours are announced with deadly boredom, I reconsider my decision to call him, grab a scarf and slam the door of our apartment, my heart heavy and my mind assailed by dark thoughts.
Going out in the street is always difficult for me, because the crowds come, especially during market hours. I almost get knocked down by a cab, then by a racing car launched at high speed. I have time to see the driver behind the wheel of the vehicle and growl. A Goblin. Obvious. Climbing up the crowded sidewalk, I think to myself that this is the only place saving me from certain death. I still don't know how we can make horses and roaring engines coexist on the cobblestones of London. Very often, passers-by are found thrown against a wall, or slip under the wheels. Depending on their nature, some survive. When it comes to people like me, it's rare to see him get back up. But that's the least of the mayor's worries.Since World War III, it has been common knowledge that the UK is not a good place to live as a human. Freedom, for us, is everything. Americas. Only, you still have to fall on the right side of the border and plant your feet in the soil of the North. The South is nothing
Ishmael observes me calmly, while I'm on the verge of fainting. It's too close, far too close, for me to even consider grabbing my blade. Especially since, if I'm right, he'll manage to melt my dagger before I throw myself at him. I've never been burned enough to leave marks before, and I don't want to start today. However, it may be my only alternative if I intend to get out of this trap. For a moment, I consider calling Adele, but what can a Shadow of the Between Worlds do in the face of such a Creature? Creature who takes a deep breath and widens his smile without ceasing to stare at me, with his slightly glowing eyes.- So, little half-breed, we go for a walk?My interbreeding does not go back far enough to hide my Indian features. In another situation, I would send him to hell before moving on. In my current case, I choose to lay low. My way.- I'm visiting the museum, I inform him, managing to control the trembling of my voice.- Oh... Vacation?- Non.- Hum... Londoner, I presu
NowadaysI've always loved the relief that the dead bring us, the tranquility of their silence. Even if I know that some can get up, that some are not quite on the other side, walking up the aisles has always been synonymous with peace for me. I am a cemetery walker. A visitor to the tombs. Not like a Necromancer, certainly not like a Ghoul. I just walk around. Sometimes I stop and read a few names. I work a bouquet about to wither, I weed a grave without descendants.I wonder about their past, try to decipher what they were based on their epitaph, when they have one. Was this man a torturer with his wife and a loving father? Did this woman live all her dreams or did she let herself die, swallowed up by a life that was too short? I always stay longer in front of children's graves. As if, suddenly, the grief of their parents was suffocating me, grabbing me to make me feel their pain and pushing me to follow them into the crypts.But Ghosts don't often appear to humans, and I continue o
The way back is not long, but allows time for the rain to completely soak up my clothes. Four floors without an elevator later, I open the door while silently watching my hands shake. The keys clash several times before I manage to extract the bunch from the lock. When I turn, I remain frozen for a moment, facing our apartment. No. My apartment. It's as if I saw him in a new light, without Adèle's reassuring presence. The kitchen to my left, overlooking the untidy living room. The two bedrooms adjoining each other. And the bathroom down the hall. I drop the keys in the bowl, at the entrance, and get rid of my clothes while contemplating the chocolate sofa. How many times did we end up there, when we no longer had the strength to drag ourselves to our rooms? When certain objects remind me too cruelly of her absence, I can't hold on any longer and flee down the hall. The door to my room slams behind me and I collapse to the floor, exhausted. My tears are flowing and torrenting, in a pl
Ishmael observes me calmly, while I'm on the verge of fainting. It's too close, far too close, for me to even consider grabbing my blade. Especially since, if I'm right, he'll manage to melt my dagger before I throw myself at him. I've never been burned enough to leave marks before, and I don't want to start today. However, it may be my only alternative if I intend to get out of this trap. For a moment, I consider calling Adele, but what can a Shadow of the Between Worlds do in the face of such a Creature? Creature who takes a deep breath and widens his smile without ceasing to stare at me, with his slightly glowing eyes.- So, little half-breed, we go for a walk?My interbreeding does not go back far enough to hide my Indian features. In another situation, I would send him to hell before moving on. In my current case, I choose to lay low. My way.- I'm visiting the museum, I inform him, managing to control the trembling of my voice.- Oh... Vacation?- Non.- Hum... Londoner, I presu
Going out in the street is always difficult for me, because the crowds come, especially during market hours. I almost get knocked down by a cab, then by a racing car launched at high speed. I have time to see the driver behind the wheel of the vehicle and growl. A Goblin. Obvious. Climbing up the crowded sidewalk, I think to myself that this is the only place saving me from certain death. I still don't know how we can make horses and roaring engines coexist on the cobblestones of London. Very often, passers-by are found thrown against a wall, or slip under the wheels. Depending on their nature, some survive. When it comes to people like me, it's rare to see him get back up. But that's the least of the mayor's worries.Since World War III, it has been common knowledge that the UK is not a good place to live as a human. Freedom, for us, is everything. Americas. Only, you still have to fall on the right side of the border and plant your feet in the soil of the North. The South is nothing
A week later- Stop taking yourself for my mother! I mumbled, keeping my head stubbornly glued to the TV.- You can look at me when I talk to you at least!?With a huge sigh, I tear my eyes away from my series and plant them in those, furious, of my sister... who has incidentally become my surrogate mother. Hands on her hips, she stares at me, both dismayed and annoyed.- How long are you going to let yourself go like this?I raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise brilliantly. Yet I know perfectly well what she blames me for. It's three o'clock in the afternoon, today is Thursday... and I'm still in my pajamas. My messy hair partly hides my dirty face, I have a packet of cookies next to me and I haven't showered in...a while. And to add another layer to the picture, I got fired two days ago from my job.My boss called me to offer his condolences and then, without going through any further detours, he told me that I had to replace a colleague. This is where I started being rude. He didn't
The way back is not long, but allows time for the rain to completely soak up my clothes. Four floors without an elevator later, I open the door while silently watching my hands shake. The keys clash several times before I manage to extract the bunch from the lock. When I turn, I remain frozen for a moment, facing our apartment. No. My apartment. It's as if I saw him in a new light, without Adèle's reassuring presence. The kitchen to my left, overlooking the untidy living room. The two bedrooms adjoining each other. And the bathroom down the hall. I drop the keys in the bowl, at the entrance, and get rid of my clothes while contemplating the chocolate sofa. How many times did we end up there, when we no longer had the strength to drag ourselves to our rooms? When certain objects remind me too cruelly of her absence, I can't hold on any longer and flee down the hall. The door to my room slams behind me and I collapse to the floor, exhausted. My tears are flowing and torrenting, in a pl
NowadaysI've always loved the relief that the dead bring us, the tranquility of their silence. Even if I know that some can get up, that some are not quite on the other side, walking up the aisles has always been synonymous with peace for me. I am a cemetery walker. A visitor to the tombs. Not like a Necromancer, certainly not like a Ghoul. I just walk around. Sometimes I stop and read a few names. I work a bouquet about to wither, I weed a grave without descendants.I wonder about their past, try to decipher what they were based on their epitaph, when they have one. Was this man a torturer with his wife and a loving father? Did this woman live all her dreams or did she let herself die, swallowed up by a life that was too short? I always stay longer in front of children's graves. As if, suddenly, the grief of their parents was suffocating me, grabbing me to make me feel their pain and pushing me to follow them into the crypts.But Ghosts don't often appear to humans, and I continue o