domingo, 8 de febrero de 2009

Just Playback, Delete And Rewind – Part I


I love television, how it takes us to another reality, especially when a science fiction show is on. Everything we watch is design to develop a specific reaction in our minds. When a foolish man is shown carrying lots of boxes and let them fall, for example, that is suppose to make you laugh. Never the less, my favorite illustration would be the Nuclear Family, yes: perfection, they say. I wonder how many people have been depressed because they don’t have the Dad they see everyone has on TV, maybe the Mother who cooks exquisite food or even the peaceful brothers and sisters.

There is no one on Earth that has not ever felt wrong as a family member, just because the stupid yelling or fighting do not appear on the screen with the utopian Nuclear Family! Build one of those and your life will be considered as successful, lose it and you will be a failure.

Well, let me tell you a sad story about me, when I was younger. They always said that our lives would never lack of blessings, that our future would be great, but… at the end: we resulted to be a Failure (yeah, with a capital F)… and it was not our fault, we never saw that coming, we just… failed… or the truth: they made us fail. I don’t know what we did to them, but it must be something awful! Nobody would destroy a family because they felt like doing it, would they?

I liked when I had what it seemed to be pure fiction, at least I had an actual family and every neighbor in the block was not as happy as I was… In fact, I could see through their eyes how much they wanted their kids to be as nice as I was, like an angel.

I used to be a very social boy, full of kindness and surrounded by happy thoughts. But that is part of the past now, back in time, when nobody knew me as #07.

It’s amazing how an unexpected situation can blend your soul like a tree struggling to stay where it is against a tornado and, suddenly, the tree is no more than a bunch of dispersed branches in an eroded place that was your home once.

It sucks when that happens, when everything you new as normal turns to be a luxury and you don’t know if there is any chance to recover what you had. Then, it comes: the craziest idea arrives to your mind and you think it is the best that you have, so you follow that freaking idea until you realize… there was another way. Damn, that really sucks.

One of my friends just called me to tell me where the responsible of my four long years behind bars is. Obviously, I thank him for this enjoyable information; the only thing I forgot to ask him was the direction of the travesty’s house, nothing that a simple text message couldn’t clear up.

I got to her home, but someone else opened the door. The lovely old woman explained me that the gray-eyed girl who sold her the house, moved with her best friend: a handicap blond girl with a plastic leg. Excellent, now I could finish what I left incomplete before going to jail.

I remember how I chased them; they were a little bit different of what they have become these days: the disabled girl didn’t have a wheelchair that hampered her from her cheerleader jumps, and the transvestite didn’t have breasts, he was just a normal gay man.

Oh, boy, I really wanted to get rid off them and I almost did!

One winter night, I borrowed my dad’s school bus and waited in front of the cheerleader’s house, when they finally came out and got inside the car, I turn the bus on. The pursued had begun.

If I remember right, cursing, screaming and all kinds of laments were their favorite quotes to pronounce. It took me less than five minutes to scare the hell out of them.

The blond lady accelerated her long and metallic green automobile; I bet they were really terrified about a drunken guy chasing them and constantly crashing the back of that girly car. I wish I could have filmed that…

If this would have happened to me, I would not be so fearful, instead, I would think about that sick weirdo that is trying to kill me, you know? I mean, a good behaved young man who has been always known for his kindness do not changes to be a murderer so quickly! I would have wondered why this drunkard was so mad, try to calm him down and find a solution to his problem. Man, I was so drunk then… All I can do is laugh!

Eventually, their loud voices, the high speed and the reckless driving won us another participant in our survival horror game: a cop, whose siren sounded more like an ambulance. Poor man, he told me to stop at the count of three… He had a beautiful motorcycle, though.

Anyway, if I wanted to make them pay for their deeds, I had to do it before getting caught by the police. So, I step on the gas pedal, went to the right and then to the left, hitting the automobile with so much strength that it spun! The passenger’s door was against my bus, even one of their wheel burst! And when I thought that could not get better, a hole in the street made the green car turn 90 degrees to the side! What a wonderful thing: golden sparks illuminating the darkness! Free fireworks!

The cop’s face was priceless, he said “Oh, my God!” more than twenty times! Then, a curve in the road show me the end was near, I kept pushing until I threw them into a ravine. The bus almost fell as well, but I could stop it just in time. Sadly, the cop survived and arrested me when I peacefully got out. I wish I would have escaped when I had the chance; those four years at prison were infinite torture.

This is a fun fact I learned at jail: when it comes to a crime, people only criticize the bad guy’s attitude and never talk about his feelings, they don’t speak about his world and how it dropped to pieces.

My life had always been very easy, everything was like a fairy tale and, now, I’m one of those people with depressive days because I don not have that stupid Nuclear Family. God, what did I do to you!? WHY ARE YOU PUNISHING ME!?

Breathe, dude! Breathe… Stop trembling… Relax… Remember that your friend told you were the cheerleader and the transvestite are! So, calm down… Everything is going to be fine.

I found out that they were living at a humble apartment building, spider webs and roaches were part of the interior decoration, and these adornments appeared more frequently as I walked up to the next floor. When I made it to the seventh floor, the outer soles of my shoes were totally painted with green insect insides. I would have used the elevator, but I was afraid that a bat would bite me!

Each one of my steps gained sound thanks to the old wooden floor and, when my steel expandable baton slipped from my hand, the sound evolved into noise! But no one heard it or, at least, nobody cared of what happens inside the building.

I got to their apartment, the door was semi opened. A hot crying girl was desperately walking from one room to the other, picking up some of her stuff and putting it inside old boxes. She was so busy that she did not realize when I went inside.

I was starting to think that I had sneaked into a wrong apartment; this young woman was not familiar to me, I had to get out before she would see me, but I waited a few moments because she began taking her dress off (I was going to kill someone, watch a sexy ass could not make my staying at hell worst). Then… a big nude penis denounced “her”… And I knew that I was at the right room.

“Dear, are you there?” she said worried, someone was behind the wall and she knew no wheelchair had entered because it usually does a unique noise when it comes.

I could hear her agitated lungs, slow steps and three cell phone keys being pressed! She forced me to act sooner and I surprised her by hitting her head with my baton. Naturally, she fainted, which gave me time enough to tie her up, steal a few beers and smoke a few cigars.

Why do people have to change? What stuffs make us grow up and what things sink us down? How did I turn into a nicotine addict? When am I going to reach happiness again? Where is my dad?

The last time I spoke with my father was the next day after my release, he was kind of nervous when he first saw me walking straight to his house, and I don’t blame him, no one tells our parents how to deal with criminals. However, Papa stopped pruning the grass, my lips were not capable to move and my legs were shaking worst than ever. I would like to clarify that I am a real man, but, when my father held me so tight, I could not detain the tears running down my face and dampening his shoulder. I felt just like the Prodigal Son... Just after this, he told me that I had to leave the property.

“What… What did you say, Dad!?” I asked him with my breaking voice.

“Well, son… I mean! Friend…” he said while he seriously checked nobody saw us together and continued “I don’t know how to start… So, I’m just going to throw it all: I’ve moved on”

“Sorry, Dad, I… I don’t get it. What do you mean by that?”

“I have a wife now and soon: a new son, a real one… one that’s going to have my blood”

“If this is a joke, then, why aren’t we laughing? Papa, you can’t be serious about this.

Mute time without end. Prison was not as ruff as this.

“I did it because of you! I went to jail because of YOU!”

And he got angry at me, so much that he hit me. That guy really wanted me out of his life. I guess his past was too painful and every time he would look at me… he would remember my mother and my sister.

“Did you see what you just made me do!? I never touched you before and now you’re crying in the floor. Get up! You are an adult, go and build your life away from mine.”

“DAD, DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE! All I wanted to be was…”

“WHAT!? A BRAINLESS MURDERER!?”

“Papa, All I wanted to be was one of your children…”

The gray-haired man grabbed my neck with his left arm; stood me up with the other and told me what hurt me the most: “Do not call me like that again. You… Listen carefully: From now on, you are not any of my relatives. I never commanded you to kill those people. I loved you as a real son… But what you did trying to make me feel better was wrong. I lost my wife and my girl: my biological daughter that was so hard to have… and then, like if this wasn’t enough, the only ALIVE person I loved got in jailed. Do you blame me for moving on!? Well, I heard once that nobody can be slave of his own identity, when a possibility of change comes, you have to change… and I did. I advise you to take this opportunity, live a whole new experience… away from me”.

He left me out of his house and locked the door. Less than a minute later, his current spouse arrived, she was worried, kind and doing everything to help a stranger like me.

She asked my name and if I was fine, but I walked away as my father told me. After that day, I started regretting what I did… However, I came to the cheerleader’s apartment to end what I began.

Could I? Should I?

Oh, God. I no longer know if I should carry on with this… What is wrong with me!? It is too late to stop. The wooden floor creaks again, a door opens as an old wheelchair squeaks. I hope that the neighbors are not slept, because this is going to be the noisiest night of their lives.

2 comentarios:

Pakku dijo...

Cuando va a hacer la nueva entrada? Ya se me olvido en q habia quedado....

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