Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta pretend. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta pretend. Mostrar todas las entradas

viernes, 16 de junio de 2017

That old house

   In the neighbourhood of Cedar Hills, the people were kind and very friendly. The houses, built many years ago by people wanting to have their personal paradises not too far from everything good in the city, were established in a very perfect order, each different from the next but still seeming like a family. Not one house seemed out of touch, except for the one at then end of Maple road, just by the tall trees that belonged to the park. That house was the odd one out.

People were extremely nice. They would have all these parties and gatherings, to eat food or watch a movie. Sometimes they did this inside of their houses and other times they would occupy the street and do a nice night outside or something like that. The children were all specially close, having a group that headed every morning to school together, in bicycles. However, in that one ugly house, there were no children. No one ever heard much out of it, least of all a laugh.

Once a month, every single person in the neighbourhood, made out of about two hundred people, got reunited in another of their gatherings in order to talk about the most pressing things involving their community. If one of the lampposts of the street failed, it was there they decided how to proceed with the local council. Of course, the woman that lived in the run down house was never in those meetings. Actually, many people had never ever seen her face while others had already forgotten.

 But the meetings were mostly about people talking to others and sharing their love for each other by singing some music, showing their talents and even sharing personal news that wouldn’t normally be in public record. They loved their community and trusted everyone in it. They were close, so close in fact that when something bad happened, everyone was there for the person in need. Again, except the old lady from Maple street, who people had already learned to forget about.

 Bad things rarely happened in the neighbourhood. In the recent years, the most awful thing to happen was when a storm ravaged through the city and many trees fell because of the potency of the wind. Many houses had minor damages but the neighbours helped in a very short time to have it all looked as it had always looked: perfect. However, a large tree destroyed the garage area of the house no one ever talked about. It was the first time in years they ever talked about it, as if it had become real only because of the wood scattered all over the place.

 Reparations on that house were done only several weeks after the storm had passed. The people, concerned by how their neighbourhood would look which such a horrible stain on it, decided to write letters and then sliding them under the door. No one ever tried to talk in person to the woman that lived inside. They just wrote letter after letter until they got tired of it. And when they did, they decided to forget the house was there, again. They just didn’t want to know anything about it.

 Children, however, were not as “kind” as their parents. They couldn’t block out the house so easily, particularly because it stood by the entrance to the forest, a place where they liked to play and explore. The fact that they had to pass by the house every time they wanted to enter the forest, made it impossible to just forget about its existence. They couldn’t do what their parents do and often even stopped in front of the house and talked quite loudly in front of it, about the person living in there.

 Kids are mean. They used awful words to describe the woman, the house and everything they could come up with about the two of them. They insisted the old lady inside was probably dead. And even if she wasn’t, she was clearly a witch or some kind of sorceress. They also all agreed that the house was haunted, probably because of the woman’s tendency to kill every single man that became her husband. She was kind of like a black widow but in a human form and even deadlier than any animal.

 None of them could know for sure whom she was or why she didn’t seem to mind about the state of her house. The children often asked their parents about it but they never really received answers. Parents liked to pretend the one thing that made their neighbourhood out of the norm was just not real, not even there. One day, the people from the city council decided to remove the tree that had destroyed the garage. Weeks later, the garage was repaired, looking as if nothing had happened.

 Of course, children attributed this to the woman’s powers. They could have realized that the materials used in the repairs were not very good or that it was obvious the garage could collapse again by being hit hard by a gust of wind. But the fact that there was such mystery around the house, made it clear that they preferred to answer all questions about it from a supernatural point of view. But when kids grew older, they forgot about those thoughts and the words they used to mock the woman and the house, and they became just like their parents.

 But no matter what the neighbours thought, including their children, the woman inside still lived and had no plans to go anywhere else. She was called Sara and she had lived in the house more than any other person in the neighbourhood. The reason her house seemed like the odd one out was that it had stood there long before plans to build other houses and streets had been laid out. Her home was ultimately included in the plans, in an effort to have a certain harmony.

 Of course, that wasn’t what happened at the end because everyone disliked her house even more than they disliked her. She remembered clearly that her last day outside was when the first families decided to move into the other houses. You see, there was a reason why Sara lived so far from other people and it was that, her father had built her a home because of a psychological condition she had, where she couldn’t stand too many noises or constant contact with other people.

 She didn’t interact with her neighbours, not because she thought she was better or because she hated them, it was because she naturally feared them. She felt it every time she saw one of them out the window. She hated when they spoke loudly in her front lawn or when they held parties on that street. She would close doors and windows in her bedroom and then sleep inside her bathtub, where another door would protect her from the people outside and their words and hands.

Sara had been raped when she was just a teenager and her father had always felt responsible for what had happened. He felt he could have done so much more to save her, to put her away from danger. But when it happened, he decided he would do what he thought was best for her. As she became more and more aggressive to other people after her recovery, he decided to build on a land he had acquired long ago and that was how the house came to be, made only for her.

 He had been dead for many years and she wasn’t going to last much longer. Although still agile and sharp, she was an older woman that depended on family she had never seen to deliver her food at night, through her backyard. She only ate things she could stock for a long time.


 Sara never felt she needed other people to survive. She had learned to think those boxes of food just appeared there, out of the blue. It was better that way. Inside of the house, it was her own worlds with her own rules and that’s how she lived, in almost exile.

domingo, 15 de febrero de 2015

Someone

   I was like a ghost or something less significant. People were not able to walk through me but they certainly couldn’t see me. They didn’t acknowledge my presence and even if I shouted loud and clear, they wouldn’t even turn to look at me with disgust. Nothing. All my fears have come to pass although, to be honest, this hadn’t been different from the actual truth. Daily, I felt ignored. Maybe that was it…

 Late one night, tired of being overlooked by everyone and for everything, I decided to wish for a life of being absolutely invisible. I had no urge to become suddenly popular because that had never been true and I would feel just out of place if that had happened. I would have known, very fast, that people were lying or at least trying to deceit me to get something from me or to mock me. No, no popularity for me.

 I wished to be invisible, in order to feel actually free from everything that had to do with people. But clearly, I had made a mistake or hadn’t been clear enough about my desires. I just wanted to be able to ignore people, to not feel bad if they looked at me funny or if they said hurtful things. But I believe the word invisible may have been a little too literal. Now, I was a half-ghost or maybe just transparent.

 Somehow, I woke up at school like that and it was very effective as no one looked at me, not for talking nor looking. They just couldn’t see me. The sun outside those buildings, that seemed like the ones from a psychiatric hospital, was shining very bright but it felt cold or at least I didn’t feel any warmth or comfort if I got any close to the windows. I made a couple of people trip and fall, which was funny, but by the fifth time, it had lost all its interest.

 I went down to the cafeteria were I stole some food and ate it but it was simply disgusting. Food, in this state, had no flavor whatsoever. It seemed like chewing cardboard or plain paper. When I got sick of it, I spent most of lunchtime hearing other people conversations. That was fun because; as they had no idea I was there, they would say anything and I found out about some big secrets about people.

 But thinking of it, most of them were obvious secrets. They were only teenagers at the end of the day; they had nothing of real interest to hide. They hadn’t stole anything significant, although some had taken iPods and cellphones from their fellow student’s backpacks. They hadn’t had any crazy relationships either. They were really dull to be honest. Yes, some girls were not virgins any more but that I could have known without my transparence.

 In order to have some fun, I went down to the school’s coliseum and saw several of the guys I really liked play football. But that got too old very fast, as I had no idea what there were doing all the time. I was almost asleep when they all entered the showers. That was the moment I was waiting for so I went behind them and saw them got naked which was the first nice and fun aspect of being practically invisible.

 I could see a lot of behind and penises and their wet bodies as they went out the showers. I loved it to be honest. But it was kind of a disappointing to know that, except a couple, all the rest really look like kids still. No body hair, no big anything anywhere, not even a stubble. I don’t know why I had thought of those though “sports guys” as men when they were clearly not men still. Some of them were really cute but that was it. Besides, like I had a chance with any of them!

 I decided to leave the school and walk home. That would be fun or at least it would be distracting. I had no idea how much time the wish would last so it seemed like a good idea to explore all the possibilities before the effect of the magic was worn out. My house wasn’t too close, nor too far so a good walk was perfect at that moment. As I started to walk I felt, for the first time, I cold rush through my spine. It felt as if icy cold-water travel all the length of my body and it didn’t feel good.

 The best thing to do was to step up the pace and get going. On the sidewalks, as on the school, no one looked at me. I thought they had at various moments but it was because too many people were around me and it was obvious they all couldn’t be seen the same things around. Some people look down as they walked and others looked up, as if checking the rooftops of the nearby buildings.

 Again, I stole things from various stores I crossed along the way: a necklace for mom, a ring for my sister, a videogame for my brother and a nice vest for my father. I held this in various bags and, although it looked as if the bags were floating, no one seamed interested in them nor, again, in me. Maybe, I thought, the spell hadn’t been put on me but rather on everyone else. Maybe it was about them not been able to see me and not me having gone invisible or transparent.

Any which way, it didn’t mattered. I just hoped, for the first time during the day that it wore off rapidly. I didn’t want this anymore. I’d rather be insulted or mocked that altogether ignored. Besides, watching all of those kids and hearing what they had to say when they were with “friends”, I realized they were all just children, all equally scared to death of everyone else. That’s why they say so many mean things. I won’t say they are not to blame but now I can say I understand them.

 When I got home, I left all the gifts on the living room sofa and screamed my family member’s names but, apparently, they were not there. That was very strange as my mother rarely left the house and my brother had to be there from school already. I turned on the TV and watched some cooking show for the mean time but eventually I felt asleep. The day had left me tired and a bit dizzy.

 I woke up to the sound of people cheering and laughing. My family was all reunited, sitting by the table, having what looked like a really nice dinner. They were all so happy, smiling and telling joked and anecdotes about their days. I noticed they couldn’t see me either because I said their names but none responded. I got closer and realized something was off: we normally had a big table, with six spots on it. But this one was round, not rectangular, and was only four seats. Mine was missing.

 I also realized that the gifts I had brought were nowhere to be seen. They seemed to have vanished during my nap. They kept on talking and I got desperate. I shook them and yelled and scream and threw plates and other things to the floor. But hey remained the same: just happy, having dinner. Maybe… maybe that was it.

 Checking my theory, I walked down the only aisle and I noticed my room was missing. Nothing was there; the change was that the remaining rooms were larger. It was as if I had never existed and that was what I was afraid of. What if I wasn’t transparent or invisible? That it wasn’t that people couldn’t see me or just plainly ignored me. What if I had just never been born?

 Maybe that was the way the wish had been misunderstood. I wanted to be invisible to everyone else and what best way to be invisible that to have never been visible, ever? This was too shocking for me and then, again, the icy feeling ran through my body but this time it felt so much stronger. So much that I collapsed on the floor, unable to stand or to keep moving. Besides, I didn’t want to keep moving. I was too hurt.

 I closed my eyes but I didn’t sleep. It was like closing your eyes to encounter a foul dark world behind them, were I kept falling through holes and rings and colors surrounded me everywhere. My mind felt like exploding and my body was still numb. I was only a witness of it all, not capable to do anything to stop myself from falling.


 That was until I opened my eyes again and realized I had been in my bed all the time. I felt my body and the bed sheets and my pillow, impregnated with my smell. It was real. I was real. I was somebody and no one could ever take that away from me.