WHO ARE YOU?

Chapter 1

Juliette Odilie

I'm turning off my alarm and getting out of my bed. This is not the easiest thing to do, especially after only five hours' sleep. I'm taking the beautician and going to the bathroom with it. I'm looking at my reflection in the mirror. My long, dark hair is sticking out all in every direction. Blue eyes are looking tired. I'm rinsing my face with water, brushing my teeth and then start doing make up. I'm covering my delicate freckles around my nose and cheekbones with a foundation. I don't like them. I feel like they're my flaw. An hour later I'm leaving the hotel dragging my suitcase behind.

— Are you leaving already? – I'm hearing and noticing Isla leaning against the hotel wall.

— Hi. – I'm sending her a meaningful look and she's rolling back her eyes.

— So?

— I'm not leaving. I didn't come here as a tourist.

— I understand. – She's saying after a while of silent.

— To what do I owe your presence?

— I need your help. – I'm getting closer to the girl. – You have to repeat it because I didn't hear you well.

Isla is showing me her middle finger, and I'm commenting it with a laugh.

— Have you had breakfast? – I'm asking her.

— No.

— So come on, you'll tell me what's going on while road. (?)

— I didn't do those tests. – She's confessing, after crossing the street.

— Isla... You have to do them.

— You think, that I don't know that?

— You have them with you?

— Yes.

— You will do them in a moment. Unawareness is the worst.

— My head is full of bad thoughts.

— I can imagine, but it doesn't matter what's gonna happen, you'll handle it.

— And you really believe in it?

— Yes.

Ten minutes later we're entering to the restaurant called "El Torito" and ordering Churro Pancakes.

— To the bathroom. Now. – I'm saying firmly.

Isla is sighing and slowly walking towards the bathroom. The waiter is bringing our order. I'm thanking him and then getting up and walking to the bathroom door. I'm knocking gently on them.

— Can I come in?

In response, the girl is opening the door and letting me in.

— One more minute left. – She's running nervously through the hair with her hand.

— Calm down, everything it's gonna be alright.

— I have to believe it.

— Okay. Time gone. Check it.

— You check it.

I'm looking at the plastic tests.

— And?

— Two negative and one positive.

— What now?

— You have to go to the gynaecologist.

— Will you go with me?

— Isla, it's just a doctor. – I'm sighing.

— I know, but if my brother or someone who I know will see me I will be dead. Seriously. When you go with me, I could say that this is your visit, not mine.