Comrade of mine, beggar girl, monstrous child! How little you care about the wretched women, and the machinations and my embarrassment. Join us with your impossible voice, oh your voice! the one flatterer of this base despair. ARTHUR RIMBAUD

                              SHE HAD BEEN TOLD repeatedly, and uninterruptedly, that running away was never a good idea. That you have to face pain, because, in the end, for better or worse it is our friend. That mending wounds is easy and natural if you have someone to hold your hand. That pain is only a phase of realisation, which is needed, which goes away if we believe in our successes. She, for a time, almost aspired to believe it. When, for no good reason, she did not know how to justify all the pain that accumulated in her chest every miserable day of her useless existence. She was certain that her would go away one day, because pain like that nobody deserved. But as always it was not true, it could not be true.

She was locked in, with only the sound of words pounding in her worn-out head, and no one had any intention of getting her out of that black tunnel. It was impossible for her to see any glimmer of light. No one was able to help her. And how could they? And why should they?

As the years passed, her mother and various psychologists, who had had the honour of visiting her, had come to the hasty conclusion that her problem was exclusively related to a period of adolescence and great change. Iris did not believe this at all. She felt so dirty, so broken, misunderstood by her own mother.

It was hardly enough to shout if her feverish voice was not heard by anyone. Perhaps because closing one's eyes in front of such events could somehow make the pain stop.

You see, I close my eyes, I do absolutely nothing to help you! It will go away, Iris! It will go away!

That morning (one like any other, she didn't keep count at all) she was woken up by the hysterical sound of water falling uninterruptedly from the sink tap because of a leak. It had been like that for weeks, and she hadn't bothered in the slightest to call some plumber to get it fixed, she recognised her utter listlessness even for those miserable gestures. She didn't like it, not at all, but she didn't feel like making up for it. She squinted her eyes, closing them in two narrow slits, avoiding the sunlight that had entered her room without permission two hours earlier. She only wished to sleep on that rainy day at the end of November.

The ringing of the phone, thrown on the bedside table under charge, was yet another demonstration that the universe really didn't want to give her the well-deserved rest she sweated out every week, even though it was quite late, Iris could say with absolute certainty that she couldn't get more than three hours of sleep a night.

She had absolutely avoided her mother paying her rent and university fees, deciding at her own expense that by now, even to her immense regret, she was old enough to pay for her studies. She had lost sleep, but it was the only thing she was really proud of. Being able to do everything on her own, without anyone's help. It was a small achievement.

Noticing that the annoying noise did not just go away, she threw her hand out of the fort she had created for herself with the blankets the night before, grabbing the phone with deep anger. She opened the screen, flooded by the phone's white light, with a series of messages all invited from the same number. Anika.

The gruff woman she called best friend.

Iris began to wonder why she contacted her at that time in the morning, knowing full well that it was her day off. (Rest? She had to study for exams, but Iris denied doing so until the next day.)
She opened the chat, her hands asleep, and the hint of a miserable smile lingered on her face. She took to typing groggily, clicking on the keyboard, later sending the message.

Anika

You interrupted my appointment with the dream world. I hope it's urgent, or I'll block you

Really

She shifted the blankets, like a mortuary cloth, and placed her bare feet on the floor. Her flat was incredibly quiet, and cold, the fault of the heaters she had not turned on the night before.

Good morning

I'm at work, do you have the day off?

Why?

Yes, I have the day off

She adjusted her hair in a bored manner, one leg bent and the other dangling. She waited for an answer, and was certain that soon Anika would get what she wanted without difficulty.
Here was another bad habit of Iris. She couldn't say no. She really couldn't. In any case. Even if it came back to her.

I love you so much

You know it

Get to the point

I need a ride home when I'm done :)

What about Jason?

Did you guys have a fight?

Very long story

I'll tell you later

I have to check my schedule, I may not pass

You're a bitch!

You'll have me on your conscience for the rest of your life, Iris Roberts.

Iris smiled at the screen, sending the last messages. Usual stuff. She didn't have to worry, and would pick her up immediately if it meant her safety.
She grabbed the packet of cigarettes, slipping one out, and brought it to her lips with a snappy gesture, lighting it with the flame of the lighter. Her whole body, mind and heart, seemed to calm down as the nicotine entered her body. She inhaled the smoke, later expelling it outside. Her mother, Kate Roberts, had never looked favourably on her aspiring addiction. But perhaps she was right. Kate Roberts was wrong about very few things, and when she had found out about Iris, and her total lack of common sense, she had spent the whole day giving her a lecture a mile long. The young woman smiled at the thought of that day. She had discovered her cigarettes inside her school bag. But she swore she had not done it to attract the attention of others.

Absolutely not.

That addiction was destructive.
Iris was harmful to everything around her.
Especially with herself.

                              THE CITY OF QUANTICO, Virginia, left something bleak and dangerous behind.
Iris Roberts was new to the city, both her parents were from Las Vegas, and she swore she had never seen a city like it even when she was a mere child.
She tapped her fingers quickly, one after the other, on the steering wheel, glancing from time to time to see if Anika would come through that door.
It was not the first time she had come to pick her up from work, despite her age Anika had never taken her driving licence. She was terrified of it, so she justified herself.

She worked as an IT specialist at the BAU in Quantico, in close contact with the FBI.

Sometimes, when she was arguing with Jason and didn't want to disturb Iris, she would get a ride from Penelope Garcia. Iris had had the pleasure of meeting her, she was nice, and you couldn't sulk when you were with her. She was a quirky chick, always dressed in pink, she seemed not to belong in that world of crime and murder. Despite this, Iris kept her distance from Anika's universe (she didn't have an iron stomach like his) and it was enough for her to hear her macabre talk when she visited her at home.

She lowered the small mirror she had in the car, blinking at her thin, pale figure in the mirror, and adjusted her tresses, fixing a few strands that had fallen across her forehead. Then, she picked up the phone, placed awkwardly on the passenger seat, next to a bag with take-out food inside, typing a message on Anika's chat.

I'm waiting for you

I brought food

Come on!

She threw down the phone, one hand holding her head and the other playing with the key ring falling from the mirror. Perhaps attracted by the food, or Iris's continued speed to get her off, Anika stood in front of her field of vision with a small smile on her face and a cheerful spirit.

"What's so funny?" asked Iris, shifting the bag of food onto her bare legs to seat Anika next to it. She threw the bag under her feet, and spun around to plant a big kiss on Iris' dry cheek.

"You're the best," the eldest exulted, grabbing the bag as if dying to gorge herself to the point of exhaustion.

"Yes, of course! You disturbed me on my only day off!"

(She still had to study for exams!)

"Sorry, honey!"

Anika looked at her with puppy-dog eyes (damn, she hated it when she used that move to her liking) She picked up the plastic container with her sandwich inside, taking a bite, she later leaned her head back as caught up in the ecstasy that bite had caused her.

"By the way! Remember Pen?" with her mouth almost full of bread, Anika snapped back to life, as if she had been waiting for that moment all morning.

"Penelope Garcia?" replied Iris, Anika meanwhile busy chewing her bite of hamburger without dirtying anything. Quite an impossible task.

"Exactly! I've been meaning to ask you since this morning, even though I've confirmed for both of you by now."

She rambled on, but Iris didn't even know what she was babbling about.

"Ask me what?" Iris turned around, having her undivided attention. Anika placed the sandwich on the sheet of cards, wiping her hands.

"Sometimes the team gets together for a few dinners. You know very well! Usual colleague stuff"

"So?"

Anika laid her eyes out the window, fixing her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear. Iris did not immediately understand her slightly embarrassed behaviour.

Anika decided to cut to the chase immediately.

"Mh, Penelope invited me, despite not being part of this team"

Iris smiled, "Wonderful! Are you taking Jason with you too?"

If that was the point, the young woman didn't understand why she was telling it so tragically.

"No... Pen asked about you," she paused, meeting Iris's dark, and now confused, eyes. "She really likes you and... she asked me if maybe, tomorrow night, you were free to join us"

Iris's confidence wavered, indeed, it almost could have broken. Now utterly angry, she had never expected that uncaring behaviour from Anika.

"You told her no, I hope?"

"I confirmed your presence"

Iris Roberts turned red, her cheeks hollowed to the hollow of her shoulders, and clenched her fists, avoiding screaming into the car.

"What are you thinking?!"

"Sorry"

Iris swallowed, opened her mouth as if to say something, but later closed it again.
She watched as the city of Quantico continued to live before her cynical eyes. Children running, and mothers behind them repeating to be on the lookout for the street, old men sat comfortably on benches with a newspaper in hand, flicking through the daily newspaper, quiet boys walked hand in hand with their sweethearts. Iris shifted her gaze, closed her eyes.

"Iris," she placed a hand on hers in an affectionate, carnal gesture.

"Why?"

Anika could also understand her for that sorrow, but for a long time her best friend had not allowed herself the luxury of going out. And, perhaps, Anika had been under the impression that doing so would be the right thing for her and her social life.

"If you don't want to I can always disagree. Sorry again"

It'll be fine, Iris

Great

It will be wonderful when you leave everything behind.

Anika had once told her, during the darkest period of her existence. She kept doing it for her, because seeing her only study and work was agony for Anika too.

But it was no good.
Nothing, as far as she was concerned.
Everything was going to go wrong.
Because she was Iris. And Iris didn't deserve good things.
Nor did she deserve Anika inviting her to stupid dinners with strangers.

                              SHE returned home that it was afternoon, and after dropping Anika off at her flat, she dropped her bag on the floor, slipping off her coat to hang it up later.
She looked around, the clock chiming seconds with each annoying tick and the deafening noise of ... silence.

She was young.
She had his whole life ahead of her.

Young.

She quickly retrieved his phone from his bag, and before she regretted it, she began to type.

Nika

Tomorrow I'm there

Don't cancel anything.