"Anila, will you take it or not?"
 
    "I do want to," she answered, still reluctantly.
 
    "Why don't you take it, then?"
 
    "Because..." Anila was out of breath when she stretched her hands forward. "I can't," she surrendered.
 
    "OK. Let someone else have it."
 
    "No, no." She stopped Sidoreli when he was about to leave. "Only I want it."
 
    "Then take it."
 
    Anila bit her bottom lip, still struggling.
 
    "You said it yourself that you loved it. Now, why are you thinking?" He didn't understand her.
 
    "Can you please respect my indecision?" she asked tenderly. "This book is great," Anila gestured to the book in his hands. "But there is a good character who dies at the end," she pursed her lips, and her eyes seemed glassier from the delicate layer of tears like a baby's heart.
 
    "It's not more important how many years you live than what you do in those years that you live," he handed her the book, and Anila smiled sweetly, feeling more motivated by that saying to read the story.
 
    She took the book in her hand, saw their reflections on the rectangular mirror placed on one of the columns of the library to her right, looked at her hair in a ponytail first, the primrose pink trousers, the lilac rose blouse, and the sunflower trainers she was wearing, his pastel green t-shirt, light grey jeans combined with white trainers, and under his embrace, they went to the cash register to pay.
 
    The next day was his birthday, and Anila had accepted his invitation to go to the party he was going to organise with his family. She was going to meet all of Sidoreli's family members as his girlfriend, and she was bursting with emotions.
 
    She was still in doubt about whether she would do right by changing the clothes or taking the ones she had chosen two days ago.
 
    "We have the whole day free today. How do you want to spend it?" he asked as they left the bookstore.
 
    "I suggest..."
 
    The image in her mind of her feet slipping on the ice lowered her gaze to the smoky grey, brick-paved road. She missed skating, and now she wanted to start again and create beautiful memories with the things that used to remind her of the bad events that she had experienced.
 
    "Let's go skating," she wished.
 
    "OK," Sidoreli agreed immediately.
 
    Life just took on more fresh vitality as she imagined herself skating and happily squeezed Sidoreli's arm, who smiled, feeling energised by her enthusiasm.
 
    "Do you skate, Sidorel?" asked Anila.
 
    "No," he chortled. "I play chess, and I like basketball."
 
    "I like chess too. But I don't understand how I lose," she posed the problem. "I have my pieces and my opponent's pieces in front of my eyes, and I still make wrong moves."
 
    "True," Sidoreli laughed. "I lose the thread, too, sometimes."
 
••••
    She promptly felt at home when she saw the ice rink a few metres away and the people skating along with those who were watching their acquaintances from outside the rink.
 
    With her eyes filled with adrenaline, she took her skates and got ready.
 
    "Are you sure you don't want to come?" She raised her head to look at Sidoreli, who was enjoying every second of her joy as a child full of dreams and love for life.
 
    "I'm leaving the whole scene to you this time."
 
    His response earned her a chuckle and a shake of the head.
 
    "What an excuse," Anila stood up and looked at herself to see how the shoes fitted her. "I missed this so much." She walked slowly across the floor and went to the track.
 
    Sidoreli accompanied her to the entrance. He held her hand when she extended her right one and stayed close to her as Anila walked slowly across the ice, trying to remember how to keep her balance.
 
    She constantly glanced at Sidoreli, who was looking at Anila, proud of her for making herself happy, and very soon she continued to skate without a problem.
 
    The ice welcomed the unforgettable visitor and gave her a new feeling of vitality.
 
    Anila crossed the track quickly and stopped when she saw her boyfriend leaning against the wall next to the track, looking deeply at her, as if touching her whole body with a passionate gaze that sent shivers through Anila's veins, froze her heartbeats, and then quickened them without announcing their momentum.
 
    She returned the same defiant look to Sidoreli, implying that she was thinking in the same intimate way about him, and he chuckled, wishing to leave with her as soon as they could from skating to go to his house.
 
    Anila did some manoeuvres on the ice and freed herself from the shackles by which she had been held in the past. She took a deep breath, excited and ready to live life with all the enthusiasm again, and then headed towards the exit of the track to go next to Sidoreli.
 
    She was happy that she had been allowed to kill metaphorically, and she hadn't been too late like many innocent people who were left with the alternative of literally killing people in order not to lose permanently.
 
    She had understood and sworn that she would never stray from the truth again. When she would be obliged to kill something because otherwise that thing could give Anila the final end, she wouldn't sacrifice herself; she would make the right decision. She would ignore that offered possibility, remove that toxic person from her life, and give up on a bad habit that wanted to destroy her.
 
    Because there's no other way to truly succeed for ourselves, for the people we love, or for those who love us. Sometimes by making a lot of noise and sometimes quietly, like a period placed at the end of a sentence, we have to kill before time runs out and its end kills us.