There's no sympathy for the dead - epilogue
It was eight o'clock on a summer afternoon, when Ana was heading home after spending the afternoon with one of her friends. She was alone, walking down the street with people passing through them. She had thought to ask her friend to carry her home, but that would be a sign of weakness. And she couldn't be weak, even less now that since the mysterious disappearance of Noelia, she was the leader of the group. And a leader must have a front indestructible. But she couldn't help but fix her eyes on everyone around her. They look at me, they're all looking at me. Don't look at me, leave me! Agitated, she reached into her expensive Channel purse and kept it there for her way, as she grabbed the knife she carried on her purse since she'd begun to receive those disturbing letters from an secret 'fan'.
She looked at her wristwatch and saw that it was after eight o'clock in the afternoon; she was relieved to think it was summer, because at that time of year it won't get dark until at least within two hours. And she wasn't much far from home, the only place she could feel safe. Or less insecure. But her nerves grew as she heard footsteps behind her. Her sweaty hands began to tremble, holding the handle of the knife harder, and on his forehead the drops of sweat began to shine.
"Hey, excuse me!" She turned at the voice of whoever who was following her, meeting a man in his early thirties, blond and with glasses. "Do you know where's the street...?"
"It's you, right?" She whispered, without leaving him finish his sentence, her voice broken by fear, which caused her an uncomfortable lump in her throat. "My 'fan'!"
"S... sorry?" The man asked, not understanding at all what happened with that girl.
"Leave me alone!" She screamed, as tears began to fall down her cheeks, taking with them a trace of makeup, and taking the knife out of her purse. "You won't take me alive!"
And she slipped the knife across her own throat.
Emilie Scarlett & Juliet Rose.
