This is the third instalment of my story. I recommend you to read the first two ones, HERE and HERE, before going on reading "A Sad Smile". But if you are too lazy too do it, never mind, I bet you'll be able to enjoy the mystery surrounding the two protagonists anyway. Enjoy reading, whatever you choose!
“Don’t tell anybody. Can I trust you?”. Mark’s father said with a worried loudness.
“I promise you, yeah, you can trust me.” Mark answered.
Mark was thinking about his biggest mistake. He had trusted the wrong person. Anyway truth comes to light sooner or later. Well, ALWAYS. So, better safe than sorry. He was frightened, he lost control. What did his mistakes mean? An impenetrable trap of lies, an immense sense of guilt and a perpetual desire to put an end to it. An unveiled secret can completely upset your life, can make it a nightmare, can totally change the way you live.
It becomes an obsession, you can’t stop thinking about the consequences of your trusting the wrong person . But everything seems unimportant before guilt and it consumes you slowly, little by little.
He tried to hide his thoughts, to disconnect his brain and to return to his previous life. However is sense of guilt was haunting, suffocating, unbearable.
Jane was thinking about those days, all those days. She lay on her back fastened by leather straps to a narrow bed with a steel frame. She had long since given up trying to free herself. She was awake, but her eyes were closed. If she opened her eyes she would find herself in darkness. The only light was a faint strip that seeped above the door. She was listening for the sound of footsteps, which would mean he was coming. A sudden vibration in the bed made her open her eyes. It was as if a machine had started up somewhere in the building. After a few seconds she was no longer sure if she was imagining it. It was the forty-third day of her imprisonment. She was not afraid. But she felt a great , pent-up rage. At the same time she was troubled by fantasies about what was going to happen to her. She detested that helplessness. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on something else to pass the time and distract herself from the situation she was in , the fear came trickling out. She had discovered that the most effective method to keep her fear at bay was fantasizing about something that gave her a feeling of strength.
She was wide awake when the door opened. The light blinded her. He had come. He was tall. She didn’t know how old he was but he had reddish-brown hair and he wore glasses with black frames, he smelled of aftershave. Jane hated the smell of him. He stood at the foot of the bed and he observed her for a long time. She hated his silence. Then he spoke to her. He had a dark and clear voice. She hated his voice. His tone was not unfriendly or ironical. It was neutral. She thought he was smiling. She hated him. She saw his mouth move but she didn’t want to answer. After a few seconds she stopped. Then he began to tie her feet. Now she was utterly helpless. Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him. She heard him lock it , which was totally unnecessary because she had no way of getting free from the bed. Then she moved and tried to feel how tight the straps were. She relaxed. She lay still, she stared at nothing. She smiled a sad smile.