The end of dreams

30

The days dragged on. Silvia shut herself up at home. She waited for the day of her abortion and for the moment Anna would call her to give her the horrible piece of news.
Andrew, Diamond and Zeno alternated in front of her, like the glitter of a lighthouse; they used to bring her some food as well as a little bit of consolation. Yet Silvia did not seem to react. She just kept an eye on the calendar, that was all she would do. 

"She's much too disheartened... what shall we do? What about calling a psychiatrist?" asked Diamond of Zeno while Silvia seemed to have fallen asleep.

"Nobody will ever be able to cure her Michelle. This is life... this is no depression."

"But maybe they can make her recover a little with some antidepressants... I can't endure seeing her in such condition!" 

"It's life, Diamond. Silvia has touched the bottom. Now she can but come up again, you'll see... it's physiological" answered Zeno while wiping his tears.

Silvia would listen to those voices around her. They would come and they would go; they consoled her and, though in a confused way, humored her. Sometimes her delirium was interrupted by the presence of a face or by a caress. 

But one day a new figure or rather an almost new figure entered that house.

She thought she was recognizing that figure: she could hardly focus the visage of
it. 

"George" she murmured, though she was partially stunned by anxiolytics.

"Hi, baby, I'm Mark. Michelle wants to greet you. You know... that crazy girl has decided...
 has decided to go." 

On hearing those words Silvia came slowly to, but as soon as she recovered full consciousness she felt as if the air was oppressing her. She had the impression that her lungs kept being hungry for air although she was trying hard to breathe in. 

"Mark, I... I..." she started panting.

"Breathe in, darling, breathe in!" Diamond implored her while holding her under her arms. 

The lump in her throat had come up to her larynx and was blocking her breathing: she felt as if she was dying. All of a sudden that lump turned into a deep sob while her profound, recondite self, whose existence she had always been unaware of, began screaming desperately. 

Silvia's heartrending howls echoed in the room. She felt as if that was not even her voice: it seemed to alternate: now it sounded pretty close to her, now it apparently resounded from a distance. She was unable to halt it, yet the more she screamed the more she succeeded in catching her breath. She was vomiting her immense pain. 

The horrible ordeal lasted a few minutes. Then her painful strain abated and she sat up on the edge of her bed; she looked around and sobbed a little more: at last she calmed completely down.

"How did you manage to find her?" she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

"It took me one day. You can't even imagine how many common friends we have. I made it with just one call." 

"Have you been close to her these days?" 

"I didn't leave her for a single second."

Silvia sighed. 

"Is ... she... really dying?" 

"Yes. She's losing slowly consciousness but she just keeps asking after you."