For the first time ever, I was in the
presence of snow. It was like in those movies where everything is covered in
white and the characters make snowmen and throw balls of ice to each other, but
it was pretty nice nevertheless. The snow just began to fall as we had stopped
on a gas station and I walked out of the car just to feel it by myself. I was
the only one there interested in the phenomenon but I didn’t care, the
experience was even more unique like that. It felt so nice at first and so soft
and simple. It was like magic was real but it was also very basic and not
complicated like one would imagine. It was just this: snowflakes slowly falling
to the ground and on my skin and hair. I felt alone and unique somehow but then
I was reminded I was escaping and I had to go back to the car.
Our journey went on exactly as it had been
going on before the stop. Although the magic was ongoing because I could still
see the snow falling on the other side of my window. But somehow, it felt very
far away now and even more considering the circumstances. The driver was a
woman I didn’t even knew the name of but she said she was doing all of this to
save both our asses. I believed her because I had no other choice but the truth
was I didn’t trust anyone anymore. Doing so had been my downfall and now I was
in a car with a strange woman who never smiled, being chases by the police and
other security agencies just because I never opened my mouth to say anything, I
never fought back.
I guess I have never been the kind to fight
back, to be on the offensive side of things. I have always been more into
letting things happen and just adapt to that. To be honest, I consider myself
one of those persons that don’t need to go around the world doing things to
prove who I am or what I’m worth. I don’t really need to test myself because I
just now what I’m capable of. My life is one to be lived in peace, without
breaking to much controversy in my path. Or that’s what I had always thought.
Now, I really only want to be looking at the snowflakes and enjoy the beautiful
spectacle that it is to see nature unfold itself in front of my very eyes. But
soon, snow stops and rain ensues, ruining the landscape with its violence.
I hate rain and now I have nothing to look
for. I just realize I don’t want to be there, I don’t want to be running
forever like a criminal because I’m not that. I’m just a stupid idiot that made
a mistake and didn’t have the courage to talk when he had to. I bet she doesn’t
know that I’m not an evil mastermind as many have thought, I’m just an average
and maybe even below average guy who just wants to be left alone for the rest
of his days. But I’m not stupid; I know that now that’s impossible. There’s no
way everything’s going to stop just because I say the truth. My truth is simply
not interesting enough for people to listen to me and I know they will just not
care about it at all.
It was all about lies and more lies and I
now that I’m not completely innocent because, after knowing what had happened,
I didn’t say or do anything. My so-called friends, those people I had learned
to love and respect, they had set me up several times by making me keep their
secrets, whether they came in the form of drugs or in the form of money. To be
fair, they just gave me bags that were black and covered in duct tape so I
never really knew what I was taking care of but those people were the only
thing I had in life. I couldn’t doubt them, I just couldn’t begin to dare to
betray the confidence they had put in me. So for years, many years, I kept
those bags of whatever it was.
I discovered once one of those bags had money
and I asked my best friend what that was about. He told me he had earned a lot
of money and would rather split it and keep it safe with friends that in a
bank. To be honest, I didn’t believe him; I just decided that having friends
and a certain sense of family was better for me that meddling in some business
I had no idea about. After all, it was them who paid my rent, my clothes and
food and who had given me the chance to be someone by working in a factory.
They made plastic objects, of many natures, but I wasn’t to bad at it and I
earned my living so they didn’t have to help me so much. I loved my life back
then and wouldn’t have changed it for anything.
My parents had died many years ago, leaving
me an orphan. They didn’t have any money so I was about to turn into one of the
many children that roam the streets at night, when I met them and they just
accepted me into their bigger family. To be honest, I don’t remember my
parents. I have no idea what kind of people they were or even how they looked
like. I guess I could find out maybe now wasn’t the best moment to do so. It
had never been one of my priorities in life to know who they were because I had
always felt my family was the guys and girls and hung out with, those who gave
me money to survive and live a life that was just good enough for me. Even now,
I know I owe them a lot for what they did because they had no obligations with
me.
But I grew up and realized that what my family
was doing was not really ok. Also because I saw the people that bought their
product, on the streets, and thought that selling such a poison was not what a
good person would do. I asked one of them once if they would change their work
in the future. He said he wouldn’t because drugs not only have him money, they
also gave him status and respect from other people. I told him about what I had
seen and he just said that weak people shouldn’t be doing what’s meant to be
for the strong and the mighty. So it was all a question of power that I
couldn’t quite put to words.
That wasn’t necessary. I discovered the hard
way that this family had never really been mine or anyone else’s. The day one of their bags filled with cocaine
arrived at the police department, they instantly went for me. They sent a thug,
a guy I had know and loved as brother, to punch the truth out of my body. I was
beaten heavily, barely surviving the whole thing. Even now, my ribs hurt as if
his enormous feet were pounding my thorax again. I bled a lot, covering the
flour with the unmistakable odor of iron. I told him, when he let me, that it
hadn’t been me. He just left me there, to clean myself and to take care of my
wounds alone, because my family had officially left me for good.
More
bags arrived to the police department, some filled with money and others with
drugs. This time, I got a letter saying that someone was sorry it had to be
blamed on me but that it was the only way to do it. So before I was killed, I
surrendered myself to the police. It was stupid from me to do it, as I hadn’t
done anything, but my mind couldn’t decide of anything less dangerous. The
police didn’t believe me either, only thinking I was looking to save my ass
from something they didn’t know about. They protected me for a while but I knew
I wasn’t safe and I knew the police wouldn’t risk it all just to have me alive.
So, once again, I escaped but this time with the woman that was driving the car
after I had seen snow for the very first time.
She didn’t talk at all and it was better that
way. We just knew we had to run away and we did. I didn’t wanted to know why
she had been arrested or she was guilty or not. Not even if she was a serial
killer. I knew that the trip would end eventually and that I would have to fend
for my own, which I was looking forward. I needed to prove myself that I could
defend my own body and my own existence. So I just waited until the moment came
and it did, faster than I thought. Because when we stopped again in a motel, and
now more snow was falling, I went to get something to drink and eat and she
stayed behind. She was arrested by a state security agency that was looking for
her for a long time. I saw them take her and just leave, without even stopping
to look for me.
I didn’t know what that was for but I thanked
it. I left our car there and just realized I had no money. So what I did was
simple: first of all, I ate what I had bought. There was no reason to go hungry
now. After that, I waited patiently until the night arrived and then I went to
a bar that was just a few steps away from the motel. It was greasy and old and
depressing but it made me shine. So I took advantage of that and, eventually, I
found what I was looking for. A mind that was weaker than mine, someone that
would pay attention to me and to no one else. Someone that would want me and not
the rest. For the first time, I was going to be my own person.
The next day, I put on my clothes, went out
the bedroom and bought a seat on a bus that would take me far away; so far it
would turn me completely into another person. And I would like that.
