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

miércoles, 28 de febrero de 2018

Adolescence


   The taste of iron was not to be ignored. Maybe it was because of the cold that had swept through the city around those days, the fact was that the gun tasted like pure iron and the taste was enough for Felicia to pull it out of her mouth and put it back on the wooden box her mother kept it in case robbers or someone broke into the house. Felicia’s eyes were flooding with tears, so she ran to the hallway bathroom and thoroughly washed her face, trying to eliminate her feeling while doing it.

 She looked at her own eyes and nose and skin once she was done but everything she had been feeling was still there: her insecurities and self-hatred had not left her body just because she had taste the iron that made up a gun. She did feel a little bit less agitated and her mind seemed clearer, as if she had put on glasses or something. She dried up her face with a small towel, taking her time to appreciate its smell and texture. It felt as if she had never used her senses until that day.

 Felicia then walked to her room again and closed the door. She didn’t lock it though, because it didn’t really seem necessary anymore. She had dropped the whole idea of killing herself, only because of the taste of the gun. But it wasn’t only that, it was also the fact that she wasn’t really sure about what she was going to do. After all, Felicia was still a very young woman and had a whole life before her. Something inside of her told her to wait a little bit longer, to hold on for a while.

 The young woman was in high school and, as with most kids there, she had started feeling anxious when she discovered how things had change from one grade to the other. Now, all the girls in her classroom and age would be trying makeup away from teachers, drinking alcohol, smoking marihuana and even talking about their sexual experiences. Felicia, at first, thought it was all about a little group of girls that had changed in the blink of an eye but then she realized it had affected every single person her age.

 She used to enjoy talking to her friends about the shows she liked, many animated programs among them, and about some games and silly things that they liked because, after all, they were still children. Maybe not like her brother Thomas who was eleven years old, but kids anyway. They couldn’t legally drink or vote and they were still in high school trying to decipher math problems and having homework. The shift that she had witnessed seemed rushed and unexplainable but she soon learned she had to adapt soon to this new state of things.

 Felicia realized this when she started being harassed by some girls in school because of her weight. She had always been a little bit bigger than most girls but no one had ever said anything hurtful to her because of that. Now, things had changed dramatically: some people outwardly said to her how fat she was and that she looked like a pig or a boar. Sometimes it would be in a low register on the school corridors but some other times it would be right to her face, as if they wanted to see how she responded.

 She always walked on, deciding not to engage in any sort of fight. But as the school year went on, it was more and more difficult to resist. She tried to remember what she liked about school and so she decided to spend a little more time in the library. Her best friends were sadly not there for her at the moment because one of them had left for a neighboring city and the other one had just stopped talking to her out of the blue. It was probably the worst part of the whole deal.

 Anna had been her best friend since they were toddlers. They had been in each other’s houses and their parents knew each other very well. They had celebrated birthdays together, as well as spending some holidays in the same place whether it was Disneyland or a cabin in the woods. They loved to go shopping together and make fun of everything and everyone, along with their mutual friend Jeff. They were basically sisters for more than fourteen years and now all of that had disappeared for no apparent reason.

 They had not talked over the summer because Anna had left for a long trip with her parents and she never contacted Felicia after she had arrived. Felicia didn’t think much of it but she quickly realized in school that everything had changed between them. She had tried to come close to chat for a while but it was obvious Anna had no desire to interact with her. So Felicia stopped trying and the relationship died a sad and unexpected death pretty soon. It was devastating for Felicia.

She even called Jeff to tell him about it and he was kind enough to hear about all of it but the thing was that Jeff had some problems of his own. His parents were divorcing and it wasn’t clear what was going to happen with him after that. He had told his parents he wanted to go back to were he had friends and family but his parents didn’t seem to care a lot about what he had to say. They were too busy accusing each other of something, so Jeff couldn’t really be there for Felicia in any way. He just asked her if she was okay and that’s when she realized she wasn’t.

 After that phone call, it was the first time Felicia realized that she didn’t really feel great about the whole situation happening around her. After all, she started feeling alone and without friends, something a young person is sometimes unable to handle, as it is a necessity for them to be social and able to talk to someone if they need help or advice, and sometimes that comes from people their age who have information they personally don’t have. It’s something they need Felicia realize she didn’t have anymore.

 Her parents were another problems. They had recently begun showing signs of a certain distance forming between them. There were no family weekends anymore. Mom stayed at home while Dad went away to fish or be with his friends. And when her mom went out with her friends, Dad stayed around to be with the kids. It was nice and all for a while, but Felicia soon realized it wasn’t very normal for parents to simple not talk a lot to each other. She wondered if a divorce was looming.

 So the bullying at school, which got increasingly worse, her lack of friends and the tension at home, had all been enough for Felicia to take advantage of none of her parents being at home to get into their room and grab the gun, to the point she had it in her mouth. After she went back to her room, she started crying and she didn’t really knew why. Maybe it was because she felt weak or maybe it was because she felt very alone. It was then when she heard the door and it was her little brother.

 He had arrived from being with a friend and Felicia could hear him throwing his backpack and turning on the TV. Without thinking, she opened the door and walked to his room. He was watching cartoons and looked at her on the door when she appeared. Felicia tried to seem calm and just wanting to hang out for a bit but Thomas was no fool. It is a common mistake to think youth means ignorance when it’s nothing of the sort. He realized soon something was wrong but didn’t ask outright.

 Brother and sister spent a good chunk of the afternoon watching cartoons and sharing appreciations about them. Then, they grabbed cookies and milk and also some ice cream and ate it all just before their parents came back home. They didn’t look as happy as them.

 But all of that didn’t matter because Felicia realized she still had people around who she could trust and also that she had to take care for. The world was not going to end. She was going to face the tide with the weapons she had at hand and promised herself to survive the whole messy thing that is adolescence.

viernes, 16 de febrero de 2018

Case closed


INT. DAY – POLICE INTERROGATION ROOM

The rain hits the only window in the room with ferocity. Nothing can be seen outside because of a heavy haze.

The camera moves away from the window and settles on a corner, watching the center of the room. There’s a large table and two chairs, a pasty white guy is seating in one of them. No one sits in the other chair.

The man lays his head on the table, apparently crying but there are no tears on his face. The door to the outside opens. It’s a policeman. He’s very tall, black and carries a gun on his belt.

DETECTIVE MARKO
You sure were difficult to pick up, Vince.

 The detective sits on the empty chair. He grabs a pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket, pulls one out and offers it to Vince.

DETECTIVE MARKO
Wake up, man.

 Vince raises his head. His eyes are red. He looks pale and desperate. He grabs the cigarette. Marko pulls out a lighter from the cigarette pack and lights Vince’s smoke. He inhales once and clearly enjoys the taste of it.

DETECTIVE MARKO
Now, where’s the girl?
Her dad’s here, Vince.

Vince looks at the door, nervous. Marko sits back on his chair, crossing his arms and looking straight at Vince, who looks like a trapped mouse.

DETECTIVE MARKO
We know everything, Vince. We know what you did to them.
To her. We just need you to help us find her.

But Vince doesn’t seem to mind the presence of the detective. He suddenly stands up and walks towards the window. He stays there, looking at the rain, not saying a word.

Marko’s fingers start playing with the cigarette pack.

DETECTIVE MARKO
Did you know her dad is congressman Walters?
The one whose face is all over town, seeking reelection?
(For a second, he waits for an answer)
He’s calm right now. If he gets mad, you’re fried.

But Vince keeps looking out the window. The drops of water hit the glass hard but the man doesn’t seem startled or annoyed. He just looks at the rain in the most peaceful way.

Then, he starts mumbling.

DETECTIVE MARKO
What’s that?

Marko stands up from his chair and walks towards Vince, who’s still talking under his breath.

The men are separated then by a few meters but Marko does not understand what Vince is saying. He mumbles as if he was repeating things to himself, not to really talk with anyone.

DETECTIVE MARKO
Hey! Stop it! You’re dyin’, dumbass!
Don’t you wanna save your ass?

 Vince remains unresponsive. He keeps repeating, mumbling. His cigarette is consuming itself on his hand.

Detective Marko closes his fists, ready to be harder on Vince than he was authorized to. But he refrains. A muted sound enters the room from outside.

DETECTIVE MARKO
I can make them see you’re not well.
You don’t have to die, Vince.

Vince then turns around and looks at Marko straight in the eye. He smiles softly. He walks one step towards the detective. He then reaches out with one hand, caressing Marko on the cheek.

VINCE
But I do have to die. You know that.

 Marko looks scared. He cannot move away from Vince. He stares at the criminal, but does not seem to know what to do next.

VINCE
And she will have to die too.
You also know that.

 His hand caresses Marko further, feeling his three-day stubble. His smile grows, making his face look weirdly deformed. If he looked pale and lanky before, he now looks insane.

VINCE
Tell the congressman to make the arrangements.

Vince pulls back his hand. Marko seems to be able to move now. He turns around suddenly towards the door but it opens before he can reach it. A woman stands there, dripping water.

OFFICER GARCIA
Sorry to interrupt, sir.

DETECTIVE MARKO
(Looking back at Vince)
It’s ok. What is it?

OFFICER GARCIA
Sir, it’s the congressman.

Marko turns his attention to her, his eyes wide open.

OFFICER GARCIA
He said he was going for a coffee.
But some officers saw him running towards the street,
without his coat.

Vince chuckles. Marko looks at him again but his face goes back to Garcia in a second.
DETECTIVE MARKO
What happened?

OFFICER GARCIA
(Nervous)
We went after him. He seemed out of his mind.
He didn’t look before crossing and…

Marko understands. Vince starts laughing, first slowly but then faster and louder. The detective seems to be losing his patience.

OFFICER GARCIA
We found this on him.
(She pulls out a cellphone from her coat)
It’s…

Marko takes the cellphone without asking. He looks at it and sees something he would have wanted not to see.

On the screen, a live feed is still ongoing. The camera is apparently under water and, for a moment, you cannot see much.

Then, a head tilts forward and it becomes noticeable. It’s the face of a young woman. She’s clearly dead, having turned purple already.

Garcia takes the cellphone back, saying something about evidence. Marko’s head turns. He walks towards the chair and drops there. He grabs his head, it hurts. Vince’s laughter is loud.

VINCE
I had to do it Marko.
You knew. You always knew.

Marko looks at him, his eyes a bit watery. He looks at Vince laughing but doesn’t seem to have the same power and stability than before. He looks lost, confused even.

Two policemen enter the room and pull Vince out of it. Marko looks how the man is dragged out, how he’s still laughing. Finally, a tear runs down Marko’s face. The men leave and he’s alone with that tear.

The rain punches hard on the glass.

viernes, 1 de diciembre de 2017

His scent

   I loved to be the one hugging him, tightly, beneath the covers when it was raining outside or above them, naked, during the summer. Waking up was always one of the best parts of my day because I would notice his scent so very close to me. It didn’t matter how much we had moved during our sleep, it was always a please to feel him close to me. And I think, even if I would never dare to speak on his behalf, that he thought exactly the same thing. I think he loved me back, maybe even more.

 During the week, we would wake up at the same, even if the other had nothing to do that day. Sometimes it was me who kissed him before leaving for work, some other days it was me staying there, organizing my space and feeding the dog we had adopted together. Its name was Bumper, because he loved to bump into everything. Maybe the thing was that our dog was not very brilliant but we loved to imagine he had some traits of both of us. Maybe he was clumsy like me and distracted like him.

 Our favorite days, or at least mine, were Saturdays and Sundays. We would wake up earlier and I would make love to him for the longest time. I loved to explore his body slowly, even to the point that I would turn off my cellphone in order not to be interrupted from that beautiful task. I got to know every single centimeter of his body and I was proud to know every single corner of him. After a mutual orgasm, we would stay silent and then talk about our lives, fun little snippets every day.

 That’s how I think I know him. I think feeling his heart while sleeping, his breathing while we made love and his warmth when we kissed goodbye, it all made me understand him and really know who he was and what he wanted out of life. It didn’t take a long time for us to hold hands in public after we had decided to properly date each other. Same happened with our “sudden” decision to live together. We just knew we had to, it was meant to be and only we could understand the feeling.

 So, it’s pretty understandable that the worst day of my life was the one when a policeman, a man with a stupid face, came to our home and told me they had found him, the love of my life, dead on the street. It happened one night, when he was coming from work during one of those horrible thunderstorms that are becoming more and more common in these parts. According to the policeman, he had been assaulted by a group of men. They had taken his money, his belongings and had then proceeded to kick him and punch him until one of them decided to pull out a gun.

 My first question was simple: “Where is he?” The idiot policeman repeated that he was dead and I didn’t ask again. He offered to take me to the police station, so I grabbed a jacket and went along. It was so very late; I was already in my pajamas. It was very awkward, but I started crying in the police car, en route to my lover. I couldn’t stop crying for a second, only when I had to step out of the car in order to enter the police station. He never asked me if I was fine or needed something.

 The doctor running the morgue was a woman and I was thankful for that. She seemed to care for every single one of those corpses, of those dead people that for some reason were there, lying on their back inside a gigantic freezer. I started shaking the moment I entered the room and I lost any attempt to seem calm when she unveiled his body to me. He was naked, of course, and very white and blue. It’s a silly thing, but the first thing I thought was the fact that he hated both those colors.

 I took one of his hands and caressed it; I kissed his cheek and his forehead and held on to him. I could hear the dumbass policeman asking me if that was my “partner” but I didn’t care at all. I wanted to stay there forever, whit him, even if I had to die too. The doctor was very silent and it was obvious she would have preferred for me not to touch her patient but I couldn’t stop holding on to him. If I had let go, he would have died forever and I just couldn’t afford that to happen.

 However, all the crying and the memories and the deep pain got to me. I had been waiting for him to come with food, so my stomach was empty. The doctor, hours later, told me that could have been one of the reasons for me to faint right there on the morgue. They carried me to the police station’s infirmary and gave me some ramen soup, the kind you can make in the microwave. I ate that hot cup in silence, still crying. A massive headache began to brew.

 His family came in some hours later, after I had signed every single paper that had to be signed. Between those, I had to ask a friend to go to my house and bring me our marriage certificate, which only a few people knew about. It was hard for me to tell his family that we had been married for a couple of months and that it had been his decision not to tell them because he wanted it all to be a big reveal. He was planning it all as if it was the marriage of two famous people. And know, it had been me telling them all of it, with his cold body not too far away.

 They were shocked to hear it all, of course, but I honestly think I was the most affected by the tragedy. I kissed him several times once more, before I had to leave in order to go home. They promised they would arrange it all for his body to be prepared for whatever I would decide to do. I took the doctor to the side, and told her we had talked about being cremated together in a huge pyre, holding hands. She gave me a nice smile and told me to get back to her the next day.

 Sure enough, they sent his body to a cemetery where he would be cremated and given to me. I called his family to tell them all about it and they didn’t say much about it all. They seemed to be still in quite a shock. They did show up to the place and we even held each other for a moment, in silence. We saw his coffin, a very modest one; enter the oven and the metal door close afterwards. Tears rolled down my face but I didn’t cried loudly like before, I was under too much pain to do that again.

 They gave me his ashes and the doctor was there to pay her respects. I hugged her tight and cried some more. She offered to take me home and I accepted. His family didn’t say another word to me, even when I saw them looking at the urn with his ashes when they were handed to me. I wanted to make peace; I wanted them to understand what we had together. But it was too little too late, so I just went home with the doctor. She kindly stayed for a while but I have to say it was better when she left.

 That’s because I spoke to him for a while, as frankly as we had always been when he was alive. I told him he was the best thing to ever happen in my life and that I was proud that I got to meet such a wonderful person in such a shitty world. I thanked him for being my lover and husband, for making me enjoy life and people even more and for always been there for me. I hoped him the best for his afterlife, if there was one. If there wasn’t, I wanted him to know I would always be his.

 Another storm was brewing when I opened my bedroom window. The wind was beginning to howl. One strong current was enough to take the love of my life away from me. I saw him float away and then disappeared into the dark clouds floating not so far away.


 I left the urn right there and then dropped on the bed. His smell was still there. I closed my eyes to feel him one more time and it did work. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt. However, when I opened my eyes everything was real and raw. He wasn’t there anymore.