Invisible

I can make pizza for you, said the Italian with his funny accent. I can make pizza for you, I mimicked him in my mind. Only thing he needs is his mommy next to him and voilà, the stereotype would be perfect. Yes, I said, pizza, pizza, do the Italian magic. He gave me a long look, shook his head a bit, but gave in. Yes madam, I will prepare something nice for you. Gracias, I said and laughed at his face.  If you need some help you can always give a call to your mummy, I said arrogantly. My mother is dead, he answered with his Italian accent. I did not believe him, those Italians are all big liars. Call your mamma Luigi, call her, I continued. He did not say anything anymore. This was the same game I played with him every day, but I was the only player.

How was your day darling, I heard my father asking from behind me. Apparently he had come home from work and wanted to do his mandatory father to daughter small talk. I turned around and I saw his serious face behind me. It was the same as all the other days, I answered to him with an angry tone in my voice. He ignored my bad mood and put a little smile on his face. It was the kind of expression that did not have any emotion and looked polite. He was doing his job well also at home, not just at work. He was a good diplomat.

I hated him, I really did. I could not stand his hypocrite face and his lame words. They were the worse, the words, because there were so many of them and still they never meant anything. My father was tall and handsome, in that sense very visible. Everybody loved him, women and men. He was easy to talk with, but again, that was because he never said anything. He made an art of speaking a lot about nothing. I can smell an almost ready pizza here, my father said with a cheesy sound in his voice. I felt like taking the pizza and throwing it at him. But I changed my mind, because I was sure that the pizza would go through him. He was unreachable and I hated him. Even the pizza would not reach him, I was sure about it.

Hello honey, I heard from the direction of the kitchen door. The show must go on, I thought, my mum had arrived home. Muah Muah was the disgusting sound that always happened when they greeted each other with their lips. Hello hello, answered my father to her. He was trying to sound relaxed and informal. He failed, because he was born as a diplomat. Not only trained to be one as many of his colleagues. You are at home as well, she said to me, without even looking at my face. Yes Lisa, I live in this house, I snapped at her. I always called her by the first name and she did not mind that. She never wanted to be a mother anyway, but sometimes things happen without planning. Your hair looks stylish, my father complemented her. Thank you, said my mother. My hairdresser really knows what she is doing, she continued proudly. Your hair looks stupid I said to my mother, but she did not say anything. She never cared what I was saying.

My parents left the kitchen, because they decided to have their dinner outside in a restaurant. I was left alone with our Italian chef and the pizza. I felt angry and depressed as usual. No one in the house cared for what I said or what I did. The pizza smells like Italian grandmothers, I shouted at our chef. He just placed the pizza in front of me and did not say anything. It smells like your dead mother, I provoked. Suddenly he turned around and shouted back at me with a red face. I could not distinguish any words, but I knew it was a voice of a pure anger.  The chef looked like an injured animal, who was about to attack. 

I had not seen anything like this before, because I had always been invisible to everyone in our house. This is why I got scared and run outside from the kitchen door to our back garden. Our Italian chef followed me and he was still shouting like a maniac. Now I could hear him saying, "Non provare mai più ad insultare la mia defunta madre in quel modo!". While I was running, I slipped on the wet grass and fell down. 

Our Italian chef stopped in front of me and I saw him crying. Suddenly I felt really guilty and sad for him. I had no idea what to do and how to make him feel better. I decided to do the only thing that I had learned. I took all my clothes off and lied on the grass, waited for him to touch me. That always worked in the end, I thought. He looked at me with a sad face, turned around and left. That was the only time that I had been visible in our house and it was the last time that I ever saw him. The evening was chilly and I was just lying naked in the garden. A raindrop dripped from the sky and landed on my nose.

Lotta