What Blood Does Not Erase

Episode 1

Some time ago, I was one of those girls who waited for a rose. A flower, a sunflower, any detail. I saw how others received bouquets with radiant smiles, and I also wanted to be, even once, the reason why someone gave flowers.

Over time, I understood that I didn't have to like the same things as everyone else. Why did I have to be the same? Why did I have to pretend that I liked colorful flowers? Then I asked myself a question that I had never asked myself before: do I really like flowers?

The answer surprised me: no, I don't like them. I like black ones. Those that nobody notices, that are not given as gifts, that are rare, different… unique. And that's when everything started.

I was sitting on the darkest night, accompanied only by the October moon and my thoughts. I was thinking about everything that had happened to me since I can remember. Suddenly, something—or someone—passed in front of me as fast as a flash.

"Maybe I imagined it," I said to myself, shaking my head.

I returned to my room, invaded by a thousand questions. I was thinking about how I would survive the next day, with a life that was becoming heavier and heavier. Maybe you're wondering how I got here… who I am and what my story is.

My name is Madeleine Salvatore, I am 26 years old and I have an 8-year-old daughter. I live in a small town forgotten by almost everyone, but where work, at least, is never lacking.

I separated from my daughter's father eight months ago. He basically told me that he didn't love me anymore, that he was free. After ten years of living together, he left me with love in my hands… and with a girl who adored her dad. Since then, our lives have changed. That night, I remember well, I took a bottle to calm my nerves. Even so, I felt them running through my skin. I returned from work knowing that tonight… everything would end.

I tried to delay as much as possible, but the inevitable arrived. I asked him to go outside to talk. I didn't want our daughter to hear. I didn't want her to see me fall apart. Outside, I put on the song "Nada" by Dread Mar I and prepared for the worst.

I cried. Like never before. But his words were dry, cold, direct:

"I don't love you anymore. It's better if we break up. That way you don't waste time. You are free to fall in love with whoever you want…"

Free? How absurd! Ten years for this? To leave me empty-handed? I could only think of the pain that would come… of what my girl would feel when she found out.

After that night, everything changed.

I moved out. I didn't want to see him, even though it hurt not having him by my side anymore. It hurt to sleep without his hugs. My daughter and I held each other. We cried many nights, but over time… it hurt a little less.

Seven months have passed. Tonight, once again, I was sitting under the moon thinking about everything. I saw that fleeting figure again, but I didn't give it importance.