Fortune favors the bold

   Every piece had fallen exactly in the place she had wanted. Every single one of them represented something she had been looking to achieve for a long time and now, she was finally able to reach every single goal she had ever wanted to attain. She was merely hours away from all of it and the only thing she could do was looking at her laptop and then at the city from her balcony and then again to the screen, where everything should appear at the right time.

 She had decided to be alone for that moment. The idea had never been to share this monumental achievement with anyone else, but to celebrate it alone in a very personal way. She had a bottle of her favorite champagne at hand, her most comfortable and loved clothes on and she was in the most private place she could ever be able to get to: her own home. Everything was just as she wanted and she had insisted on disappearing for that night, avoiding people constantly in order to have a few hours all to herself.

 It’s not like she was going to party hard until the next day came. She was not as young as she was when everything had started and, even if she felt younger, she had never been one to do that sort of thing. She had achieved her goals because she had been so focused, taking care of every single thing from the moment she had decided she would stop being the person she was during her youth and start her transformation into the woman she really wanted to be. It would take time but it would all be very much worth it.

 And it was. The sole feeling of being there, in that beautiful apartment, nestled in the mountains, with such an amazing view of her preferred city in the world, could not be topped by anything. She had everything she had always wanted: not only objects such as clothes and jewelry or furniture and the proper décor, but also things that no one could never buy with money. Things that only experience and intelligence could teach a person their worth and the real position that every single thing and person had to have around them.

 She had been patient and very controlling of it all, and it was worth it. Only minutes away from the awaited time, she poured some of the champagne into a tall glass and opened a box of fresh strawberries that she had picked up herself from a local farmers market. The smell was sweet and luscious, the perfect thing to go with the night she was having. She felt as if tears would start coming down her face in any minute, but she had also learned how to prepare for that: just open her eyes wider, smile and let the waves of good energy enter her body. When the clock on her laptop struck the hour, a shower of pyrotechnics covered the city.

 Champagne disappeared in a moment. She poured herself another glass and then another one after that. She saw the bright lights over the city and felt as she had never felt before. It was then tears begun pouring down her face and she didn’t bother to wipe them out or do anything about them. She wanted to cry and scream and to whatever she wanted because, when time had come, she became who she had always wanted to be and it was something that had never been guaranteed, so it was an understandable reaction.

 She remembered how, in her first years in the company she now ran, many people had tried to make her feel as if she didn’t belong there. They made comments very often, about her parents and her siblings, about their house and her clothes and a truth they claimed to be irreplaceable: that no girl from a background like the one she had would ever be able to achieve anything in such a competitive world. Everyone was against her and she had to take it all with patience and care, always thinking about the future.

 Every time they slammed her with horrible words, she would deflect them with indifference and, with time, she learned to outwit them at every turn, making them feel that the girl they had seen coming into their company was not the same they were standing in front of years later. She became much more certain of her choices and even dared to share her past life with no regrets whatsoever. Contrary to her enemies’ beliefs, she gained a strong following because of that choice. People regarded her as a true beacon of light to look up to.

 Power could be gained easily, or so she thought, if she followed her well thought plan from the beginning. That had started years before, when she had decided to save for school doing horrible and menial jobs. But she got to the point where she could study and also work, and she did. By the time her bosses understood she could not be so easily “taken care of”, she was almost untouchable because of the support of the people that worked under her. They knew that if she left, they would leave after her and sink the company in the blink of an eye.

 That power grew exponentially until she made it to the top ranking of the company. She made it to the board of directors before she turned forty years old and, by then, most of her competition had either died out or moved on to other endeavors. She ultimately took over completely and then, it was impossible to pretend she hadn’t achieved something that seemed impossible. The former owner was still there, but she had become the face of the company they had owned for so many years and there was no way they could live without her. And she knew it very well, even if her plan still had some stages to be accomplished.

 The night of New Year’s Eve, the one when she celebrated with champagne on the balcony of her elegant home, she fifty-six years old. She had effectively ended her plans, the ones she had designed from the age of fifteen. She had executed every single stage of the whole thing and she celebrated the fact that she had won. No one in the planet could argue with her that, after so many years, she had been the one to come on top and not him. Not Anthony Klein Volker, the man that was supposed to own all of it once his father died.

 Anthony was her prime target and the one she really wanted to get with all of her scheming and plotting. Of course, Lavinia and Arthur, Anthony’s siblings, could not be left out of it all. And not his mother Clara either, or his father Jonathan. None of them were going to be left alone until she got what she wanted and, what she really wanted more than anything in the world, was to have every single thing that belonged to them: every property, all the money, their precious company, their transports and even their pets. She wanted it all.

 And although most people loved her for being who she was and became, some hated her. Most of them sided with the Klein Volker’s because they had business with them or because they knew the truth and were the kind of people that hated when someone brings out the shit that has stained the carpet and is making everyone ask themselves why there’s such an awful smell in the room. Of course, they knew, she could clearly see that in their eyes when they tried to scare her out of making one of her bold moves.

 But she moved. She moved because Anthony had been the one that had assaulted her one night, after he had seen her in one the company’s open picnics for children in need. The oldest of the Klein Volker’s raped her and his father Jonathan, instead of vomiting when he saw what his son had done, he rewarded him with objects and ordered the girl to vanish, forcing her into a life of prostitution, a life she would never be able to leave. They thought she was weak and that she could be punished into compliance, shutting her mouth forever.

 And she did, for a while. She did work as a prostitute and saved money that way. Then she got another job and then another and she started school and education became her best weapon against everything that had ever happened to him. When they saw him, they didn’t recognize her at first.

 But, after a while, they did. But it was too late to say or do anything. She had them right where she wanted them and she claimed revenge in a myriad of ways, in every single one of them because they all knew what had happened and had all collaborated in her destruction. Yet, fortune favors the bold.

Strength

   The pipe had been there all along. It was make of some metal, maybe lead or something similar. I’m not an expert on things like that. I just grabbed it when I had the chance and used it fast against my aggressors. The first one got the blow right in his face. Blood came running down his nose fast and I took advantage of that by hitting him again, this time on the top of his head. He crumbled to the floor, his face rolling backwards and now his head also bleeding profusely. All in a few seconds.

 As for the other guy, he had been somewhere else. After all, he thought his friend was going to have his way with me for a while, so he had gone out and probably smoke a cigarette or have something to eat. He wasn’t worried at all because he knew no one would ever go near that abandoned warehouse. It was a huge thing, with several floors and a lot of rats running around. No decent person would ever enter that place, so it was an obvious hideout for the kind of scum they were. It was their natural habitat.

 However, when he came back, I was waiting besides a hole where a door used to stand. I grabbed the pipe with both hands and struck him several times, until I destroyed his hands. Then, I moved on to his legs and I would have killed him if I hadn’t noticed he had lost consciousness a few moments before I stopped. I didn’t drop my weapon and I didn’t run out instantly. I was still in shock, without any pants on and my underwear tainted in a color I have never liked to see. I started trembling and then the tears came running down.

 I had no control over anything. The pipe finally fell out of my hands and made a tremendous noise but there was no one in the vicinity to notice it. I cried for a while but then realized I needed to get my shit together fast. I checked on the men and they were apparently only knocked out. That was good because if people ever learned about all that had happened there, I wouldn’t want any of them to think I had killed someone. They deserved it though. I wanted to grab that pipe and smash their heads many times.

 But I didn’t. I grabbed my pants and shoes. My socks were so wet from all the puddles on the concrete floor that I had to remove them and put them in one of my jacket’s pockets. I put on the pants, slowly, as it hurt more than I had imagined. I cried a little more, this time because of the pain, and then put on my shoes without tying the laces correctly. I walked towards the exit, coming out of the building into a large courtyard. There were weeds all over, even some bushes. It didn’t take me a long time to find the proper exit from that place. I was soon walking among other citizens, down a commercial street.

 I couldn’t go fast. There was a lot of pain and I was afraid that my pants had already been tainted with blood. So I decided to take off my jacket and put it around my waist. It was a very odd thing to do, because it was morning and it was very cold. But I had no choice. I’d rather freeze to death that let anyone wander what had happened to me. A cop actually crossed my path as I tried to pretend I was just taking a morning stroll. He looked at me, straight into my eyes, but he apparently didn’t see anything of interest.

 I checked my pockets several times but I couldn’t find my wallet, my cellphone or anything that had been there the night before. It was then when I realized that I had no recollection of the events of the preceding night. I probably went out for a drink or something but couldn’t really remember a thing. That neighborhood didn’t look familiar at all and it wasn’t the kind to be close to the place I had recently rented. I mean, my neighborhood was awful but this one was… the opposite.

 There were nice stores and old little ladies buying bread for breakfast. There were happy families walking around and old men having a walk with their dogs. It was all very peaceful and even beautiful in a way. I have to say it scared me even more to be in such a place than in a district as dangerous and filled with scum than mine. And it was weird that those men had taken me near such a place. Maybe they thought no one would think to check on old factories near posh neighborhoods. That could be it.

 I finally found a bus stop that had a small city map on the side. It was very helpful to make me understand that I was practically on the opposite side of the city. No wonder I had never known of such a place. In order to make it to my apartment though, I would have to take a bus or the train but I had no money for that. I saw several people waiting for the bus and the thought of robbing them crossed my mind. I had never been that kind of person but you change a little bit when awful things happen to you.

 It was then when a nice old lady talked to me. I hadn’t even seen her getting close. She asked me if I was feeling okay, because I had a “paper look”, as she said. I assured her I was doing great and that I only needed my bus card but had lost it somewhere. I pretended to check my pockets, which was apparently everything the old lady needed. She told me she could lend me her card and pay for the trip. She said she liked helping people, because so many people used to help her everyday, especially when she went to the supermarket for groceries. She wanted me to be her good action of the day.

 Of course, I didn’t complain. I got in the bus with her, not even knowing if the route would take me anywhere near my home. I forced myself to talk to her all along the ride, even if I had no real interest in doing so. She was very nice but the pain I felt was increasing. For some reason, I felt worse that I had a few moments ago. Maybe those men had done something else to me, something that wasn’t as obvious as what I had noticed from the start. Maybe there was something else that was making me feel ill.

 The lady finally got to her stop and I made myself help her down the bus, only to get back into it. She waved to me as the bus pulled away and I did the same. I was surprised to see such a kind person the very same day I had almost killed two people for doing something awful to me. The world felt insane and I was in the middle of all of it. I was going to sit down in the same seat when I noticed the place I had been was tainted with blood. It wasn’t a lot but it was visible enough. I touched the jacket and it was wet.

 I rang for the bus to stop. Luckily, the next stop was very near and I had to wait only for a moment, which seemed to last forever. When the doors open, I almost burst out of there. I was so fast though, that I tripped in the last step and fell hands first into the ground. Every single person on the bus and around the stop looked at me. It was exactly the thing I had no need for. I stood up as fast as I could and ran away as many people tried to ask how I was feeling and as some were wandering what was all that blood about.

 I walked away as fast as I could, finally stopping in front of a large supermarket. There was a breeze there that made me feel a little bit better. I had no idea where I was but there was no point in staying on that bus with my body leaking blood like crazy. It had finally taken its toll on me, as my body felt completely tired. Using my arms and legs was painful and even thinking about all that was happening was tiring. I tried to move from the railing I was leaning against, but I couldn’t.

 Everything went black in a moment. I had glimpses to people gathering around me and voices saying things I didn’t understand. My body did not respond to me. My brain was working but everything else was going away. Darkness came and it lasted for a while, until I had another glimpse, in a hospital.

 A doctor was pointing at me with a flashlight but I didn’t react to it, as I should. I was too tired to do so. The face on that man looked scared, even a bit surprised. But I wasn’t able to ask why he looked like that. I fell back into the darkness and wouldn’t come out of it for quite a while.

The day he wanted to be someone else

   Trying to sleep on that big room was an impossible task. Not only the windows had cracks that let the cold wind of the night in, the stone floor prevented anything to be very warm, even under the covers. It was a dreadful place to stay for a night and John had to stay there for, at least, a whole week. It had not been his choice to go on such a remote place for a vacation. If it had been for him, he would have stayed in his cozy tiny apartment, with his cat Michael.

 But a letter had come on the mail telling him to wait for its writer during that week. It didn’t specify a date and the only thing he could learn out of it was that, whoever had wrote the letter, he or she knew a lot about him and about his family. In three pages, he wrote things that only a family member would know. It was very eerie but John had a sister and a brother, so his first reaction was to think it was one of them, or maybe even his parents, who would be most likely to actually written a letter in paper.

 After finishing the letter he emailed his family and told them it was a very funny joke, especially with his birthday approaching, but they all responded that same day telling him they had nothing to do with a letter. They even joked that the world was too advanced for such thing and that they hadn’t touched a piece of paper or a ballpoint pen in years. And to be honest, John hadn’t done either of those things either in a long time. Paper and pens where only in banks. So who was behind all of it?

 He decided not to respond and just doing nothing. Maybe it had been mailed to him by mistake or maybe it was just a very bad joke. There are people in the world that don’t really have a good sense of humor. Many have a deviant kind of humor that only a few people understand and sometimes only them. But the letter was not even funny, on any level. Maybe it was just a random thing, someone hoping to get a reaction out of the blue. It was possible, John said to himself.

 However, as the dates in the letter grew closer, John received another letter. It had the same kind of calligraphy but this time it was way shorter, more concise and had a certain air of urgency. The person that had written knew that it was difficult to believed someone that knew him so well was written but it clarified that it was a matter of life and death. The letter begged for John to go to where it was indicated and wait there for more information. He had to trust his instinct. And then the letter finished with a simple but resonating phrase: “You have to come because you need to close that chapter for good”.

 That really scared John. He had never discussed his past with anyone else. Not even his family knew everything that had happened to him when he was younger, the things he did when he was out of the house. John had always been the kind of child to stay behind, to have a small amount of friends and prefer to play with toys or videogames at home instead of going outside. But he did try to be another kind of person and it was then when it all happened. The trip reminded him of everything.

 He arrived to that sad hotel the day the week indicated in the letter began. He had to ask for a special permit in his office, permit that was strangely granted very fast. It was not very common for him or anyone else there to get permission to leave for a whole week that easily. The whole situation felt really strange, as if someone else had had some sort of hand in the whole matter. It was a very scary situation but he decided to ignore those facts and just do what he felt he had to do.

 The hotel was the only one in that small town, located about three hours away by road. As he had decided a long time ago not to drive a car, he had to take the bus and that experience was worse than anything because of the delays and all of the walking he had to do. It wasn’t that he hated walking around or anything, more that he really didn’t wanted to move more than necessary for whoever had lured him to that far away place. The town was made of maybe twenty blocks, more or less.

 The hotel felt more like a cemetery than nothing else. The only difference was the fact that there was a roof over his had. Aside from that, you could really feel the same kind of cold weather; the same ripe smell all over and that very sad light that makes you feel unhappy about being alive. The second day there, he woke up rather early. After a cold shower, he decided to walk around town and hope he could find the person he was looking for right then. Or should that be the other way around?

 The cold wind was powerful, descending from a mountain range that seemed to be really close. A woman in the grocery store told him the temperature was always the same every single day of the year. No summer days, even if the sunny was high up above them. The rays of sunlight also felt cold in that part of the world. She also realized John was a visitor and she recommended him to go to the nearby hills for some fresh air. She assured him it was much less depressing than the small town. Hearing her say that, gave him a little bit of hope, which felt out of place.

 He went to the hills every single day, for the next few days. On day six, he decided to leave the following morning very early. All that time in such a small town was making him insane. He wanted to hear noise again, to hear babies complaining and people being awful to each other in the street. He wanted to hear the sound of cars and planes and trains and he wanted to have his cat Michael next to him to warm up his feet before going to bed. He didn’t belong there.

 That day, he walked all over the place and stayed in the hotel lobby for at least three hours after lunch in order for his so-called host to come and tell him what it was that he knew, what the hell he wanted to speak with him about. He waited and waited, hearing the sound of the clock and the snoring of the man that tended the front desk. He wanted that awful week to end and was furious to have been made to spend one of his legal holiday weeks in such a sad a depressing town.

 In the afternoon, he headed off to the hills again. He did like to see the landscape, the mountain and a river far away. Sometimes there were some sheep around and he loved to caress them. That day they came again and he wanted to touch them one last time but they left suddenly, as a figure wearing a large overcoat walked towards him. It was a man, a very frail looking man, maybe the same age as he was. When he was closer, John was able to see a scar above one of his eyebrows.

 Then, he gasped and walked back a bit, scared of this vision of the past. Even without saying a word, he knew who that person was. As a teenager trying to get people to like him and having friends, John had stolen the keys to one of his classmates’ parents’ car. It had been done on a dare. He had to steal the keys and drive the car down the road. It was a short trip, a crime without victim. Or so he thought. The man standing in front of him was the kid he had run over that day, so many years ago.

 He had always thought the kid was dead. He had left them there, on the pavement, to die. He had turned around the car and left it at that. He always thought the police would find him. But nothing ever happened and John eventually learned not to think about that day.

 And yet, there he was, the victim of his attempts to be a normal kid. John wanted to be someone else and all he could produce was a horrible accident. His victim had traced him down for a long time and had been watching, waiting for his moment to come forward.