In Soraya’s Ideal World

By Voula Gkemisi

I am one of those monsters that you hate.
One of those that the ones who live by the conduct of good behavior point at. Nobody loves my monstrous eyes. No one takes care of them. Instead of a few good words, all they get is hatred. They rub my head over the vomit of morals. You see, if there was once a drop of goodness inside me, they made sure to suck it out of me.
If you don’t like monsters, then don’t read me.
I will tell you though that these monsters are called to find the lie that you underestimate because you are too naive to see that this might be the only road which will lead you to the truth. This society has two parallel worlds. The one, you live in it... and the other is my world.
*This story contains intense vocabulary and harsh sex scenes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Voula Gkemisi
• Release date: Aug 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9786188496231

Voula Gkemisi

Greek Author - Voula Gkemisi (Βούλα Γκεμίση)Gkemisis Voula comes from Kalambaka Trikala. He grew up and lives permanently in Sitia, Crete. With her studies and professional experience in Business Administration, Marketing and Computer Training she began her amateur career by writing through different categories of stories, which she initially published on the wattpad's global online platform. Her stories were quickly loved by the audience, and her first printed book comes with a humorous romantic story entitled "Little Sex Still, Please!" from MaradelBooks editions. Following is her second book in the mystery-fantasy book entitled The Secret of an Angel, a series of e-books, as well as free novels, short stories & Short Stories available at makestorytelling.com.All books here: makestorytelling.com/shop**************************************************************************************************************************************Η Γκεμίση Βούλα κατάγεται από την Καλαμπάκα Τρικάλων. Μεγάλωσε και ζει μόνιμα στη Σητεία Κρήτης. Με σπουδές και επαγγελματική εμπειρία στο ενεργητικό της σε Διοίκηση Επιχειρήσεων, Marketing και Εκπαιδεύτρια Υπολογιστών ξεκίνησε ερασιτεχνικά την ενασχόληση της με τη συγγραφή μέσα από διαφορετικές κατηγορίες ιστοριών, που αρχικά δημοσιοποίησε στην παγκόσμια ηλεκτρονική πλατφόρμα του wattpad. Οι ιστορίες της αγαπήθηκαν πολύ γρήγορα από το κοινό και το πρώτο έντυπο βιβλίο της έρχεται με μία χιουμοριστική ρομαντική ιστορία που φέρει τον τίτλο «Λίγο Σεξ Ακόμη, Παρακαλώ!» από τις εκδόσεις MaradelBooks. Ακολουθεί το δεύτερο σε σειρά έντυπο βιβλίο της στην κατηγορία μυστηρίου – φαντασίας με τίτλο «Το Μυστικό Ενός Αγγέλου» από τις εκδόσεις Πηγή. Μία σειρά από e-books, καθώς και άλλα διαθέσιμα μυθιστορήματα, διηγήματα & Short Stories όπου μπορείτε να βρείτε στη σελίδα της makestorytelling.comΌλα τα έντυπα & ebook μπορείτε να τα βρείτε εδώ: makestorytelling.com/shop

Book preview

In this world that we live in everything is counted in ideals. Ideals that are capable of building your own Hell or your own Paradise If there’s a thing that this story can teach you, is not to hide behind the words or even your feelings. Society might never be able to build your own ideals… or the person that sits besides you...

*

- Do you see that guy across from us? He’s a family man that’s retired now. That guy on our right? He’s a CEO in a big corporate. How about the guy that passes by with his wife by his side? There’s no way you haven’t see him. Every afternoon, at a quarter to six, he takes his wife and his child on a stroll to the park like they are little dogs. They always pass by here. How many more would you like me to put in my story? My whole life is filled with men. Do you get it? It’s not easy for you to understand, my love. Really, how old are you?

- Twenty-five.

- Youth… beautiful youth.

Soraya put out her cigarette in the ashtray that was right in front of her and looked at the smoke she was puffing, as it rose to the ceiling that had a yellow shade from the cigarettes. We were there for her one and only interview. Right before she was taken away from the real world to be put in the eternal world of the prison, she asked as her only public apology, to speak with me.

Her husband’s murder had taken large dimensions in our country and it was the main topic in every conversation, everywhere. She had kept her mouth shut and hadn’t spoken a word. Not even to the police. Normally this process was not allowed because she hadn’t admitted to the crime and the police only had simple suspicions on the murder, with no real proof. But when she was taken to the police station as the only suspect of the crime, she used her charms to convince the police chief to take her to her favorite bar, with police escort. It was a decadent bar built with stone, well hidden in one of Athens’s loggias, somewhere in Monastiraki.

She used her psychological well being and safety to convince them to take her somewhere she’d feel familiar for her first confession about her life. Between the thousand of journalists that waited for a simple word from her to write, she chose me based on luck and then, she asked them to call me. I was nothing more than an every day girl that dared to apply for an interview- along with many more- without ever thinking that I had a chance that she’d chose me.I was leaving applications at newspapers for my journalistic workshop in case a miracle would take place, a miracle like those that deep down you don’t believe will ever happen. The truth is that the public didn’t know much about her personal profile. I realized she was an extremely rare personality during the researched I conducted after hearing about the crime. The head lines at the tributes on the eight o’ clock news often referred to her as The phenomenon called Soraya. Her silence and the mystery that came with her imposing stance made you to really want to bow to her feet so that you’d learn all her secrets. She, on the other hand, seemed unable to work with someone. She kept her rich, tempting, lustful lips sealed. She loved to dare with her silence and her magnetic eyes that made everyone to lose their words. The way she looked at you persuaded you that this was her biggest weapon.

When I fist met her I felt an irresistible pull cutting my like a knife. She turned her big, almond shaped green eyes on me and penetrated me. I had never met so much expression in a pair of eyes. It felt as if every secret of the mankind had sunk in them. That harsh reality she was experiencing in the darkness of another world.

- Well I like you and you wanna know why? Because you are so young, so beautiful and radiant like the sun… and yet... You sit right next to me. I’m twenty years older than you, you know...Ever since I saw you, I am wondering what interest can a girl like you find in someone like me. I know you’re going to say that I was the one to choose you in the first place. There’s so much fuss around my name and I denied all the famous journalists, one by one, that fell in front of my red heels begging for an interview.

She pulled her hair away of her face with the tips of her fingers and gave me her most radiant smile.

I kick them like old dogs. But you clicked. Even if you are a young woman who’s doing her internship in that small and insignificant local TV channel. When you told the police chief that you admire me, something broke inside me. Nobody ever truly admired me… why you?

I lifted my shoulders indifferently.

I didn’t have something specific to tell her, anyway. I was taught to be humble and to be a great listener while being respectful toward every story that anyone carries around. Even if I was young, sometimes life felt unbearable. So many dreams sink daily in this country cause the path is not clear for anyone. I almost always had the strength to see the beauty in the ugliness with my blue eyes and even if I wasn’t able to sooth the pain, I was capable of understanding it. It wasn’t just the curiosity of the student journalist, that she initially thought. It was something else.Something superior and unexplained.It felt as if I was trying to prevent something bad that was coming, through each story.

- What is your real name?

She smiled the moment she heard my question and it was obvious that her mind went back in time, in order to dig out something that she had kept a secret for too long. Maybe it had been years since she had last uttered that name that looked like she had locked in the hell of her soul.

- Eleftherios...

She allowed the smoke to escape her red lips with a fake arrogance as she kept half a smile by the edge of her mouth and a nostalgic sadness in her eyes. Her cold gaze followed the thick smoke until it dissolved in the air. I felt her naked pain through a tear as she placed the cigarette in the ashtray, that made her look like a wounded and defenseless animal in front of me. She had kept that tear hidden for years. She had kept it for herself.

- My father, you see, believed that I’d become a real man like those that serve our country. Along the way he threw me out like I was the worst garbage. The recipe wasn’t successful. So; Get the hell out Lefteri, you and your abnormal nature. Isn’t it ironic that ha named me Eleftherios which means freedom?This might be the most ironic thing that has happened in my life. I was never truly free. I had always lived in my prison, on way or another. In this sick body that has been longing for men and in this mind that inside it predominated a woman’s logic. Everything about me was wrong. That was what he told me, one night that he dragged me by force outside to the pavement showing me the house behind me, that it wasn’t mine anymore. You know, I don’t do well with names. I don’t remember yours… I hope you don’t mind?

She said like she was apologizing with a dash of indifference, still looking at the ceiling like there was nobody beside her. I liked looking at her every time she brought the glass to her luscious lips so that she’d have a sip of the poison that would bring her own redemption. She admitted herself that alcohol was a one way street where she could heal for a while the deep wounds and it was the main reason why she asked to be taken to this bar.

- No, not all...

I replied a few moments later.

Her voice came out slowly with a bigger dose of sorrow, as she planted her eyes onto mine.

- You are so sweet… I don’t remember your name but be sure that these two eyes are hard to be forgotten and you know why? Because the hold the world’s truth. Your soul is imprinted in these eyes and I can see it clearly. When I leave this place, to get to my cell, I will treasure these precious blue stones that look back at me. Maybe that’s the reason why I’m sitting here sharing my story with you… otherwise, my life doesn’t matter at all, believe me. I’m the dirtiest thing that walks on this Earth. Do you understand?

- Absolutely...

I murmured hesitantly and she smiled vaguely once again.

- Do you always talk so little?

She wondered and I smiled back at her. Two seconds later she asked the bartender for two more drinks. I hadn’t touched mine but that didn’t matter to her. She was buying drinks that night to the only friend she she had. me. She played with her cigarette again, digging the ash with it, and then looked into my eyes one more time.

- Trust me my love… my life might not be interesting at all… wasted time...

I took her hand into mine. The warmth of my skin passed into hers. She lifted her eyes on me surprised. I could feel the heartbeat rushing through her veins. For an unknown reason, I felt as if I was hit but electricity.

- Who knows, maybe it has...

I lowered my eyes onto her beautifully shaped face with the intense characteristics and took my hand away, gulping because of the perplexity I felt during these seconds. I hadn’t noticed when I had built such courage around her.

- Would you rather I call you...

I managed to whisper as I was trying to escape that strong emotion that I was still carrying with me, from those few seconds that we touched one another.

- Soraya.

She replied imposingly demanding that I respected her wish, only by the look on her face and her expressionless but filled with pain, gaze. I noticed her a bit intensely while she kept the perfect pose and the tone of her voice steady, revealing that deep inside her there were still some male characteristics left.

- How hard was it?

I asked her and this time her gaze seemed lost between the ashes in the ashtray in front of her. I thought she got teary but silence embraced every corner of this bar with the bad fame.

- Less than you might think… more than the reality I carry inside me… So? Tell me… what do you want to know?

Her eyes stood indifferently at the cell phone that I had placed between us. I had just pushed the record button.

- Everything… what is your inner strength allowing you to share with me?

I dared her.

- You are very good and smart, little one. Always sharp tongued and ready to reply. Maybe you were born to become a journalist.

She admitted and I moved on my seat trying to get more comfortable.

- I’m that good of a person that I cannot fathom the evil that keeps you company. But I am willing to hear you talking about it. Not only me but everyone that will walk in your path through this interview. Among the ones that will hate you for who you are, there will be some that will simply adore you. What do you say? Do you feel ready?

Her intense and deeply expressive gaze made me shiver.This woman that was born a man, was a beautiful creature. She released her rich, black hair from the bun on top of her head with a gesture that was filled with femininity, allowing them to fall against her lower back.

The atmosphere was filled with an intoxicating female aroma. She half opened her lips and I could see her pearly white teeth. Her glance was lustful and it could easily charm you. Her femininity and the intense sexuality that was boiling inside her like hot lava, was imprinted