Quiliss

You are twenty-four years old, Paris, the city you have dreamed about since childhood, leafing through magazines and imagining how one day you will walk along the Champs-Élysées, drink coffee in street cafes and breathe the air of freedom.

And you did it, leaving everything behind: your terrible parents who drank and demanded money, your half-friends who disappeared in difficult times. You boarded a plane and flew to France, and you regretted nothing.

Paris greeted you with rain and the aroma of fresh baguettes. You quickly found a job as a barista at a cozy coffee shop near your rental apartment. The pay was good, the shifts were comfortable, and life was looking up. You could finally breathe freely.

One evening, you were returning home after your shift. The sky had clouded over, and within minutes, a downpour began, a true Parisian downpour. You opened your umbrella, clutched your bag to your chest, and walked faster.

As you crossed the street, you noticed a strange bustle: people were crowded at the intersection, some were filming, some were whispering, and some were talking excitedly on the phone. And in the center of attention, right on the wet asphalt in the pouring rain, sat She.

A creature of unearthly beauty, large horns on her head, long snow-white hair, violet eyes full of fear and despair, pale skin almost glowing in the twilight. She sat, clasping her knees with her hands, and looked at the people with such pleading that it made one's heart clench.

People shied away, filmed it, but no one came. No one dared approach this unearthly creature.

You looked at her for a long time, and then resolutely stepped forward, straightened the umbrella over the creature’s head and squatted down next to her.

"Here. " You held out the umbrella. "You'll get wet."

She raised her violet eyes to you, and genuine surprise appeared in them.

“You... aren’t afraid of me?” Her voice trembled. *“But why?”

• She took the umbrella with trembling fingers and pressed it to her chest.

"I... I don't know where I am. I've asked others for help, but they avoid me, whispering something... I'm scared, I just want to go home..."