SunScreen

Sun

Seven thirty-five p.m. I will get home absolutely worn out - again. It never stops, whenever I deceive myself into thinking that it's bearable, the exhaustion comes back just to hit me with a double wickedness.

I am cold, hungry and drained, as if someone literally squeezed out all of my spirit. The bench I was sitting on - or should I say leaning against- was hard and wet but I didn’t care, I was all soaked anyway. Despite the late hour, there were many people at the bus stop. A little boy was crying his eyes out and screaming in a buggy, making his mum scream even more. Near them stood an older man, clearly displeased with the loud noise, because I mean, it's naturally shocking that a child cries. Behind him, were three teenagers, smoking, laughing and having the - deafening - time of their lives. I could hear a constant, head-splitting noise coming from all directions. The buses and cars and trains and lights and people and radios were piercing my ears. Though it was already dark outside, there were so many blazing, vivid and radiant sources of light everywhere I looked. Not one bit, even a tiny piece of solace was found around.

The bus is going to be here in three minutes. Only a tiny bit more of this chaos and I will be in my warm and quiet home.

I finally sat down at the upper deck of the bus. The floor seemed sticky, the seat dirty and the window even greasier than usual. I immediately put my earphones in and closed my eyes, to shelter myself from all the piercing noises. I let my mind take me somewhere else.

After some time I opened my eyes and saw a foggy window with little droplets cutting their way through the misty glass. I cleaned it and stared at the view for a little while. Everyday, on my way home, I pass by a particularly odd place, which feels like another, dystopian dimension. After a few minutes of looking at countless murky houses, gloomy streets and faceless people, I spotted it. A small hill with a disproportionately big factory at the top. Around it, there were rows of sad, grey houses, each with a sad, grey chimney, followed by a sad, grey smoke - truly the most dystopian image I have seen. With twisted and tangled roads between the buildings and exactly identical, ashy gardens, it all seemed like a board game. Even the sky above it looked a little less blue than in other places.

As the bus door opened, I jumped out on the wet pavement, and breathed in the fresh air. You could sense the earthy and crisp smell of rain all around. I made my way to the high street.

While quickly moving my feet, with hands in coat pockets, I passed people and buildings as quickly as possible.

Ah! There it is. One of the most sad and dreary buildings in the area. It was a little pastry shop with an unreasonably big and - poorly- handmade banner. Madeline’s Sweet Corner - it said. The sign was wooden and half rotten from the London weather, the old, pink and blue paint was coming off in bits. Though the whole sight of the shop was quite depressing, as soon as you walked nearer, the display of various bakes, cakes, muffins, cookies, biscuits and waffles enchanted you with its sweet beauty. I passed it by just as I did almost everyday on my way home. But this time it felt different. As soon as I came closer, the scent hit me. Almost overwhelmingly sugary, yet pleasant. It reminded me of something - of sunscreen. It was a buttery and sweet smell, with a hint of musk. Just as it hit my nostrils for the second time, my mind took me back to a happy and safe time.

My grandma used to wear sunscreen on her face everyday. She would say it prevents wrinkles and aging by protecting the skin from the harmful ultraviolet sunlight. Personally, I am definitely no scientist but I remember what she smelled like. Whenever grandma took me on her lap to read some stories, I rested my head on her neck and inhaled the sunscreen scent. With a hot, black and lemon tea on the side table and a brown, checkered blanket on my legs, she read. Before finishing two pages, I would slowly close my eyes, wrapped in a safe, loving arms and a sweet, buttery scent. I would stay in this half-sleep ecstasy until she finished reading the chapter. I imagined everything she read about - the characters, the places, the feelings, the views and the landscapes. It was usually, after half an hour, when I would no longer be able to resist the hazy feeling and gently drift away, to a safe and loving dream. During my childhood years, she was my best friend and protector, my tiny piece of safety and serenity. Now, I was reminded of this little solace, each time I breathed in the SunScreen scent.

I looked before me and saw my own, gently smiling face, reflecting in the sweet display. I put my head up and glanced at the banner, maybe I was too harsh. The sign, although still old and slightly moulded, seemed more inviting than ever. It’s vintage, curved letters reminded me of all the old posters and adverts in my grandma’s house, folded and forgotten but still beautiful and precious. I walked into the shop.

Screen

The sun was gently tickling my face while I walked down the street. It was windy but warm. Small, soft breezes carried dried up leaves in all directions, swirling and circling around my legs. The pedestrian lights started ringing in my ears as I made my first steps into the crossing. I could hear so many people speaking, shouting, laughing and even singing, yet it all blended into one, continuous, humming noise. My eyes were set on my feet, rhythmically thumping the pavement. I couldn’t wait to go home and see my dog. He was my best buddy, my little gem. I have been working all day and I just know he is going to give me a celebratory and affectious welcome - just like every single day.

All of a sudden, a sharp gust of wind slams my face. It's brief, yet ice-cold and somehow shivering. The following smell terrifies me so deeply I can feel my body turning stiff and cold. My lungs inhale the overwhelming sweet and buttery scent. I can sense all my insides tightening. The cold feeling is making its way from my stomach to all my limbs, like someone was slowly but gradually freezing them all. My head starts to spin, as I inhale more of the sickening sweetness. It’s sunscreen.

Within milliseconds, I turn around to see what or whom might the source of this scent be, but there are so many people in sight. No matter. I can feel a frightening, but familiar wave of terror flooding over me. I look down at my legs and hands, I can sense a freezing cold feeling branching off them, yet my chest is burning hot. I need to get out of here. I used my last strength to walk - or rather, run - from the middle of a crossing to the first bench I spotted, near a little hill, behind a grey house with a grey garden.

I sat down and tried to calm myself down. I stared at the grass in front of me, at its short, wilted and dying blades. Between the rotting leaves, slimy worms were diving in and out of the dirt. Their muddy and filthy bodies made me wonder, do they ever feel paralysing fear? Or is it just a product of an over-stimulated mind?

The wind no longer dances between my legs, it is smashing my hair against my face, with an enraged force, making me tremble. All of a sudden, everything seems bleak, defeated even. It’s almost like some vile, terrifying force conquers my mind and borders me with utter sorrow. The more I try to relax the more my fingertips and toes seem to be stinging. Millions of needles of ice are digging into my hands and feet. I am now shaking. Is my face wet? Have I been crying? I can sense my stomach and chest getting tighter and tighter, to the point where I almost cannot breathe. I looked up. The sky was bleeding. With crimson red clouds choking the sun, the whole world appears to be behind a red, theater curtain. I feel isolated. Everything seems still and quiet but my mind. It’s like I am in the middle of a terrifying storm, inside the desolate eye of a cyclone. The more I try to distract myself, the more shadow emerges from the dreadful depths of my mind. I cannot let myself go through it again. Not here and not now. Please.

I shook my head and I got up. The world was whirling. This smell, this profound and horrifying scent hit me once more. My legs were numb, my body paralysed. I collapsed. I could now see every grain of the worm-filled soil. One of them started crawling up my foot. I screamed and shook it off. Some old lady walked past me with a repulsed face. Did she see me? Can anyone else? Has this kid over there just sent me a taunting smile? They think I’m a lunatic. They can’t think that. I promise I’m not mad, I just need a piece of solace, a tiny bit of hope and comfort. But how can I get it, if the whole world seems so despairing and long lost. My head is spinning with countless, blurred thoughts. Please, just make it stop.

I threw up.

After a few minutes of laying on the cold and solid ground, I turned on my back and opened my eyes. I could sense bits of ground stuck to my cheek. I looked at the sky. It was bright and blue.

I decided to lay down for a few more despairing minutes. I got up, cleaned myself and looked around once more. There were many kids on the playground, playing with their friends and parents. Two elderly ladies passed me, without giving me the slightest piece of their attention. A young couple with two greyhounds was heading towards the miserable crossing which I came from. Cars, buses, people and even animals proceeded with their lives and activities as if nothing apocalyptic had just happened. Just like The Fall of Icarus - I thought.