No, please, don't.

No, please, don't move.

No, please, stay right there.

No...

No!

Being!

The clock hit 7 pm. And I watched, slightly wide eyed, the few people who were still in the building passing by. They might be only important people, I guessed, because the others had already left, little by little, after Bridgette's speech.

"Devushka! Let's go?" Aleksei Novgorod stopped in front of my poltroon with a welcoming smile. Something in the way he kept watching all my movements and treating me like a little sister said he really cared. But the ONLY thing I knew about that guy was that he was friend with Oliver. Which wasn't exactly a happy thought... Oliver hasn't left my thoughts for one second. He was still missing, no one would find him, and however his presence was there, inside my mind, and it was a shark, that would keep following me whichever direction I turned my boat to...

I was going insane. What should I say to Oliver's friend? that I had no where to go? Would he invite me to go with him? Because that wasn't in my plans, either. Okay, he looked nice and everything; but that was it. He looked nice.

"You know... I had an argue with my parents, and... couldn't I stay? we have an apartment up there. I PROMISE I won't leave-"

"O o o, stop there, little Firenze. Of course you can not stay! Did you not hear Miss Clay? The building is going to be dangerous at night. Rebels can attack at any moment. Snow would be furious if I let you-" He stopped in mid sentence.

       Snow? It was Bridgette who spoke. What Oliver has to do with this?

       "Look, little Firenze, you has to come. I can go to Vargas Hotel and make a checkin myself for you. You do not need to pay. Or you come, and I talk to your parents."

      "No, please!"

      He caressed his chin.

      "So you stay?"

      "Yes!"

      He chuckled at my childish behavior. "No, no..."

      I got up from the poltroon with a smile. "You know what? I know where I can go. Don't worry... Thanks, by the way."

      "Yes, then."

      We went out together in silence. He waved, getting into a car, the last one in the parking lot, and I waved back, grinning.

      Liar. You are a liar, Angelina Firenze.

•••

     The idea of ​​spending a night on the streets didn't seem so scary when I first thought about it. You've met beggars at the Soup House, I said to myself, they lived their whole lives here and survived; you're only going to spend a few hours.

      Big shit.

      Why does everything seem so easy in theory? I was hungry, thirsty, cold and lonely. This, besides the constant fear of being attacked by an animal any moment. No, not by dogs or cats or rhinos. Terrible chills invaded my body at every man who passed by, as if my life could end there. I've never felt worse in my life.

•••

      "Hey, girl, wake up."

      My eyes flung opened. Right there in front of me was a man; wearing a white poodle up his head... that was his hair.

       "Who are you?" He asked, and I frowned; because I was going to ask the same thing, sir.

       "- you seem too dressed and clean to be here alone sleeping at this corner..." The man leaned down to touch his leg, a gesture which reminded me of Bridgette. Maybe his leg was hurt too? I raised my head to have a better look.

       Next to the ground below his hand was a dog; 30 meters high lion made basically of fur and saliva; its pink tongue drooling exposed and getting longer and longer at each breath. The man rubbed the dog behind the ears while watching me. His smile was still there, warm and maybe sincere. He wasn't drugged, mad, or a murderer. Just someone walking his dog in the middle of the night.

       I was going to ask something intelligent, maybe even ask help, but at this time the dog went crazy. His big head left the sir's hand, and started pulling the collar to where his ears were now pointed at- towards the building.

      "Calm down, Max!" The man pulled the collar, but the dog wouldn't calm down. "Hehe... he worked for the police, Max." he said, a bit of proud in his voice. "Still have some instincts. The last time this happened we found a package of cocaine under the bus' seat. But this happens with frequency, and most of the times he is wrong. There is nothing there, old Max!"

      I watched them fighting the rope. The dog pulling towards the building drooling and gasping, and the man pulling towards the sidewalk, grunting and calling.

      "Hey, Max! Look what I have in here..!"

      Max turned his head. It was a round something, and maybe it was a cookie.  They had finally entered into accord, and the man could pull the collar at least, into the night, with a brief wave for me as they walked away.

      I stared at the spot Max was trying so hard to reach.

      There was something there, actually. A door.

      I got up from the ground, whimpering a bit, and approached it. The nearest streetlamp produced enough light to illuminate the machine that served to lock and unlock Oxygen's doors. And right in the middle of its surface I saw the ghost of a fingerprint. Right below, in letters almost imperceptible, was written what I less wanted to see at that moment. Whose thump was the key of the universe.

O. Snowfields
01/21/17 01:00 A.M.