MARIANA E-Book

Saana Lahtinen

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 179

Beschreibung

She tried so hard. She tried so hard but it wasn't enough. A young woman exploring the world has been plagued by disturbing imagery ever since she could remember. One day something sets her off. A short story told by her and others close to her. None of them could have predicted how everything would go down.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

18.9.2022, Ponta Delgada

18.9.2022, Lisbon

25.9.2022, Lisbon

10.10.2022, London

10.10.2022, Stockholm

17.10.2022, Helsinki

19.10.2022, Espoo

15.11.2022, London

18.12.2022, London

22.12.2022, Vilnius

23.12.2022, Vilnius

8.1.2023, London

31.1.2023, London

10.2.2023, London

14.3.2023, Málaga

15.3.2023, Málaga

28.3.2023, London

28.3.2023, London

15.4.2023, Lisbon

20.4.2023, London

21.4.2023, London

21.4.2023, London

22.4.2023, London

25.4.2023, Paris

26.4.2023, Barcelona

27.4.2023, Cartagena

30.5.2023, New York

18.9.2022, Ponta Delgada

I can’t remember the last time I woke up with a hangover this bad. The pounding headache makes it harder for me to try remembering what I did last night and why I even drank, considering the fact that I don’t even like the taste of alcohol. The sunlight peeking through my hotel room's long dark curtains lights the floor giving me a clear view of scattered notes. I crouch down to pick up one of the scrapped notes and see my handwriting that has been scribbled over, then I take another note from the floor that looks the exact same as the one I was already holding. I gather all the notes from the floor, and I notice all of them are the same. Sighing I throw them in the trash not wanting to leave them for the hotel staff to clean.

The sunlight violently hits my face after opening the curtains and I step back tightly closing my eyes. My head pounds worse after that and I instantly regret all my life decisions that have brought me here. After gathering the courage to open my eyes and see the chaos I’ve caused I see my clothes all over the room, on the table near my open computer lies an opened white wine bottle and I notice my phone sitting on the floor near my bed. I go to throw the bottle away and the stickiness of it makes me almost gag, but I manage it because I’m a grown woman who needs to accept the consequences of my actions. I wash my hands twice after touching the bottle. I pick up my phone, but the fucking thing is dead, so I leave it to charge and I decide to open my computer. The first page that pops up is my almost finished blog post about São Miguel Island and its wonders. Reading through it I noticed all the flaws and suddenly I understood my urge to get hammered yesterday. I need to fix this fuck-up before getting it out there, but before that, I need to shower because I can’t deal with feeling the dirty hair on my head. Like always, showering doesn’t help you clear your head because I can still hear all of my thoughts at the same time. I’ve been staring at my reflection for the last 15 minutes trying to piece together what I need to do to correct my mistakes in that damn blog post. I finally manage to snap out of it and I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Have I always looked like this? My short brown hair looks darker when it's wet, my face is unusually pale, and my pupils are so dilated you can barely make out their light brown color. That can’t be me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… I did my best and fixed the horrendous creature. Something is still bothering me and I can’t put my finger on it. My chest tightens and I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my head. What? My grammar is correct, the history of the island is correct, the photos are there and it’s aesthetically pleasing. What the fuck? Sure, it’s not what I imagined but it still looks okay. “Was it ever that serious?” I ask myself out loud before pressing the publish button. It was always that serious. The moment my creation goes public I feel an unexplainable uneasiness and the urge to delete every travel blog I’ve ever published but I can’t because it’s my damn job. Anyway, I can’t wallow in my feelings forever, life doesn’t give you that luxury. My phone has finally charged enough that I can use the piece of shit and for the first time today, I acknowledge the time. It’s 10:53 in the morning and I realize my flight to Lisbon will leave in 3 hours. “For fuck’s sake Mariana… What happened to you?” I mumble to myself while brushing my hair out of my face harshly. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been caught off guard by my plans. God fucking damn it.

Packing my bags is a hard task not because I always lose my things and can’t find them. It’s a hard task because I’m extremely meticulous. While packing, I count the items and place them in my suitcase in an orderly fashion where I can clearly see them then I close the suitcase. The draining part is checking the damn bag every second because I believe my things have disappeared since I can’t see them. For this reason, I dress in my favorite clothes just in case something happens even though things can’t just disappear without a trace. I’m wearing high-waisted black loose-fitted trousers that come down to my ankles, a light blue long-sleeved collared blouse, and sneakers that go well with anything. My day didn’t start well but a good hair day makes my anxiety lessen every time I look at my reflection even if it’s only for a second. After looking through my suitcase and purse for the last time I head towards the door. I didn’t touch the handle directly because I pulled down my sleeve and wrapped the fabric around my right hand awkwardly to use as a layer between me and the handle.

An hour and a half before my flight leaves and I’m sitting anxiously in the backseat of a taxi. What if the flight leaves earlier? I shake my head to get rid of these thoughts and try relaxing. It’s the alcohol's fault for worsening my anxiety but again I’m a grown woman who made a choice to drink my feelings away and now I need to accept the consequences. I look out the window and I can see the sea. I like the sea. It would be nice to be a sea creature, for instance, a killer whale or a shark. I could just do shark stuff; whatever it is they do. I feel my phone vibrating and I take it out of my pocket to see if someone’s calling me. It's just a notification from Instagram. A user named harpoon.98 has liked your post. That’s the stupidest fucking username I’ve ever seen. After looking through my other notifications I finally realize I haven’t looked at all the messages I’ve gotten. The first one’s from my mother and she’s just asking when I’m returning to Lisbon and quickly typing my response and sending it, another message is from my closest friend Aloisio, and it just says he’s hungover as shit. I met Aloisio in university because both of us majored in foreign languages and we became good friends. I don’t have any siblings so he’s like my younger brother. He’s a pretty known author and he’s also an interpreter. Anyway, I also think he has a big problem with alcohol, so, just a fun fact. I snap out of my thoughts when the taxi arrives at my destination, Ponta Delgada airport. However, I think it has a different official name? Aeroporto João Paulo II. The sun’s still shining but it has started to get more windy. I already checked my bags in the taxi but I started checking again. Someone bumps into me and I have this thought about pushing him to the ground hard. I don’t push him to the ground, I just stop what I’m doing confused. It’s not the first time this has happened but it always catches me off guard. Whatever happened messed up what I was doing so I started again but I don’t do it the way I always do, so, I start again.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to be able to stop checking my bags and go inside the airport. I can’t show my face on this island again, it’s a shame though because it’s a beautiful place. I feel like everyone saw me struggling outside and when someone looks my way, I’m certain they’re looking at me. All the sounds at the airport feel louder than normal, my chest feels tight again and my heart feels like it’ll jump up my throat and suffocate me. I can’t do this. My savior happens to be, weirdly enough, boarding. I’m one of the first to board because I booked a first-class seat. I sit at my window seat and push my purse under the seat in front of me and then I’m trying to find a relaxing position. You can’t find a relaxing position on an airplane, so I don’t know why I bothered. The flight isn’t booked full so I’m hoping no one comes to sit next to me but, of course, with my luck a man comes and sits right next to me. It’s the same man who bumped into me outside the airport. I’m pissed. It’s his fault I made a fool of myself outside. Suddenly I’m choking him. Actually, I’m not choking him. I’m just staring out the window confused because it happened again. They announced boarding to be completed and no one else came to sit in my row. The man is still sitting in the middle seat even though the aisle seat is empty. Now I actually want to choke him to death. The plane finally departs, and the island of São Miguel disappears from my view. I’m a bit sad I wasted my last night on the island to just drink away my negative feelings but what can I do now? Nothing. I pull out my purse and get my notebook out. It’s hard to not accidentally touch the man STILL sitting beside me. I look over my notes which are always my first draft for my blogs. I always try to make them perfect, but the latest ones haven’t been perfect. It bothers me so much it makes me want to pull my eyes out of their sockets. I take pride in my work, and it hurts me to feel like this about my own creations. One of the flight attendants comes over to my row and asks us if we wanted something to drink. I nod and ask for a gin and tonic because I want some temporary relief. I hate the taste of alcohol, but it calms me down enough to be able to function like a normal person and not go completely insane.

18.9.2022, Lisbon

Holy fucking shit. I should not have drunk that much on the airplane. I feel nauseous. I once heard someone say that drinking is a way to get rid of a hangover, well, that’s a lie. I get my luggage and head out to look for Aloisio who is supposed to pick me up but honestly, I doubt he’s able to drive. I’m trying to look for him in the crowd and then I see the motherfucker outside smoking. Great. “Jesus Christ, no offense, but you look like shit.” That’s the first thing he says to me after seeing me. He’s one to talk. His jet-black hair is messier than usual, you can barely see his pale blue eyes with those dilated pupils and he’s paler than before. He looks like he’s had a productive night. “You look like shit too.” I retort back to him and he smiles before we hug each other. “By the way I had to get Tobias to drive. I’m probably still drunk so…” He says after stepping back. God, I hate Tobias. When I met Tobias for the first time, I instantly wanted to kill him. I really tried liking him because he’s with my best friend but the way he speaks to everyone is so fucking condescending. I haven’t mentioned anything about my feelings towards him to Aloisio because I feel like it’s not my place. “Anyway, how’s work?” That question is innocent, but it always makes me irritated because my work bothers me every second of the day. Why can’t I just be happy with my work? I don’t want to talk about it. “Uhh… It’s fine” I lie and ask him how his work is going. “I was working on a new book but my notes for it are missing. I can’t find them anywhere and I know I put them in my desk drawer.” He replies clearly agitated. I wonder if he just has put them somewhere else in his drunken haze, but I know he’s very meticulous when it comes to his work, just like me. Though, he’s not as meticulous as me because I’m almost always at the brink of insanity when it comes to work.

We finally get to the car and I sit in the backseat. It’s a small car, I think a Kia Soul? I’m not sure. Aloisio sits in the passenger side and Tobias is in the driver's seat. I don’t really understand why Aloisio has a relationship with this dude. I mean, yeah, he’s okay looking with curly dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s a few centimeters taller than Aloisio and he is quite muscular. A gym rat. It’s his personality that bothers me. He can be extremely condescending sometimes, and he has a big ego that can be hurt very easily. It’s been funny to see his ego hurt when Aloisio bites back at him. Aloisio is playful and gentle but he’s defensive, so I’ve never seen Tobias walk all over him. What these two dumbasses have going on is not healthy and if I had to take a guess; they’re just using each other for something. “So how much money do you get from blogging?” Tobias asks me with his grating voice while doing air quotes when he says the word blogging. I get this image in my head where I’m strangling him with his seatbelt and this time I enjoy the thought of hurting him. I snap out of my thoughts when Aloisio smacks him on his arm and gives him the scariest glare I’ve ever seen him give someone. “A lot.” I wanted to call him names and threaten him, but I opted for a simple reply. Sometimes I can be the bigger person but usually I’m not. Aloisio turns to me and thank fuck we change languages so that imbecile can’t understand what we’re talking about. “You want to book the same flight back to London?” He asks me and I nod. Before I get to ask him when he was thinking about leaving Lisbon, the fucking annoying waste of space cuts me off. “Can you two not speak Portuguese? I don’t understand what you two are talking about,” If there is a god now I thank him because I get to experience my favorite spectacle of Aloisio putting Tobias in his place.

My mood changed for the better the second Tobias went quiet, it’s wild how easily he gets offended. Aloisio just told him to mind his business and deal with a different language being spoken for a second. Tobias can only speak English and what I’ve gathered from his and Aloisio’s previous exchanges is that he’s embarrassed about only speaking one language. I don’t get it, he has opportunities to learn a language but he doesn’t take them. Now he thinks that no one can speak another language in his presence. What a fucking dick. The rest of the car ride went smoothly, and we managed to sort out the flight details in peace. Finally, the car came to a stop and I stepped out of it. The warm still air hits my face instantly and I feel suffocated for a second before I’m able to get used to it. The air feels so different compared to how it felt in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I turn around to look at the Tejo River behind me and you can just barely see small waves. My gaze wanders the river before it settles on the big red bridge that connects Lisbon and Almada. That bridge has been there for my whole life and for a while it was the only constant thing in it. The view of the bridge captivates me and I finally manage to tear my eyes off it when Aloisio appears to my side. He gives me my luggage and asks me if I need help with carrying them to my apartment. For a moment I wonder if I need help and then I remember that there’s no elevator in my building. I don’t feel like carrying my luggage all by myself even though I could do it, it’s just much more fun when you have company. Teamwork makes dream work. We get to the fourth floor, normally, the walk up the stairs is not this bad but the warm weather makes it worse. Thank God I don’t have asthma.

We get inside my apartment and almost shit ourselves when we hear my mother’s voice. Even after I realize it’s my mother, my heart is still racing. I hate surprises. Aloisio seems to have pulled himself together faster because he’s already greeting my mother when she comes to our view. “Oh! Good to see you, Aloisio.” She happily raises her arms and goes in for a hug. “Good to see you too, Paula.” He returns her embrace with a smile. “Mom, what’re you doing here?” I finally managed to calm myself down and ask her why she thinks it’s a good idea to just appear in my apartment without at least letting me know in advance. “I don’t need a reason to come see my daughter.” She just huffs and gets offended. She doesn’t even hug me. She always does this. I express my frustration with her not respecting my boundaries and she gets offended. I shouldn’t have given her a spare key. I used to convince myself that she just wanted what was best for me by overstepping every time I saw her but now I know she just wants control. Aloisio, perceptive as usual, saw the tension between us and decided to try and relieve it by asking my mother questions about herself, which gives her the attention she craves and lets me catch a break. My mother likes Aloisio more than me and always compares me to him. He’s a writer and you’re just a blogger, is what she always says to me when she starts her rants. I don’t hold it against Aloisio because I couldn’t give two shits about what my mother thinks. I know she always wanted a son, but she got a daughter instead. “Mariana, I need to go. See you soon?” Aloisio smacks my shoulder slightly while telling me that he needs to leave. I tell him my goodbyes while giving him my own smack, but a harder one. He closes the door behind him and leaves me at my mother’s mercy.

25.9.2022, Lisbon

I finally managed to drag myself to the airport and see Mariana in the crowd. I hope she hasn’t waited too long for me. Wow, she looks even worse than before. Her short brown hair looks unbrushed, her bangs pinned down and her face lacks any color. The dark bags under her eyes are very noticeable. “There you are! What took you so long?” She demanded harshly and rightfully so because I did keep her waiting. “I know I’m really sorry!” I begged for her forgiveness. “Aloisio, did you also not get any sleep? You look like absolute shit,” She guessed, and she guessed correctly as always. Well, I also have very noticeable dark bags under my eyes so… It’s not that hard to come to a correct conclusion. I tell her the truth, which is that I was up all night desperately looking for my missing notes for the new book I’m working on. I could always just make new notes, but it wouldn’t be the same. I’m scared Mariana will just blame me for losing the notes, but I’m surprised because she doesn’t start with a lecture about sobriety. I asked Tobias if he’d seen the notes, but he told me it’s my fault they’re missing and that I should take it more easily if I don’t want to lose things. I don’t understand what he’s getting at. I take it easy? She just has this puzzled look in her eyes. I think she has something to say but she doesn’t want to spit it out. “You put them in your desk drawer?” I nod “The one with the code?” She continues and I once again nod. “Before you ask, no one else knows the code other than me and I know I have not given it to anyone.” She just nods her head slowly to my statement, but she doesn’t say anything.