Tag: Short story

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Um

Escolheu a vida só, além do dois.
Teve dúvida, medo e incertezas quanto às próprias capacidades.
Julgou-se.

Havia abandonado a zona de conforto e decidido partir ao desconhecido, de peito aberto e coração na mão.
Temeu o futuro.

A dor aguda, constante e inevitável traziam angústia, mas também um certo alento.
Sentia um paradoxo sem fim.
Sem explicação.

Pensou nas dores de amor como as chuvas em Março nas terras Tupiniquins.
Mesmo fortes e persistentes, passam com a chegada de Abril e o sol do Outono.
Pensou nas folhas tocando o chão e levando consigo cada sentimento e memória do que foi.
Refletiu.

Pensou em si, nos planos, nas coisas boas que ficaram e questionou o que estaria por vir.
Cogitou sua idade.
Contou tempo, espaço e metas.
Questionou o futuro.

Na árvore de sua vida, uma brisa levou consigo a última e resistente folha.
Tudo se esvai.

O coração esvaziou, a cabeça se preencheu.

Como um moinho d’água, seus pensamentos se renovaram e seu ser se aquietou.
O inverno que pareceu demorar pra sempre foi inundado com uma imensidão de brotos e novos sentimentos.
A água agora era fresca e seus pensamentos também.

Cresceu.

Na clarividência de sua força, enxergou-se longe.

A cada flor, uma nova experiência.
A cada experiência, um aprendizado novo.

Rezou baixo para que essas sim prevalecessem e que se multipliquem a cada desabrochar.

Concluiu que ser um não é ser só.
Mas apenas permitir-se ver e viver uma nova primavera.

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Dreams

I had a dream about a girl who was pretty and sweet. She was beloved by many and as innocent as a young woman can be. She didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, she didn’t lie or betray. She was a pure and kind soul to anyone she encountered.

One day, while walking on the streets, she spotted a handsome male looking at her. He had a sharp look, but she didn’t gazed long. She wasn’t ready for boys. Her routine continued and they met again by surprise. The began to talk, shared a table and different talks. She left on with her mind wondering about staying.

A week had passed when they saw each other again. This time, he invited her to meet at night, go out for a dance and a bit of fun. She wasn’t a girl of the nights, but she agreed that she needed a break. Acceptances and preparations took place.

They met at a local club. Danced a bit, got a drink or two. She needed to drive back, so no alcohol for her. She wore nice heels and a beautiful party dress. Couple of hours gone and her rhythm began to change. She got slow, and the floor started to blur. She felt like faint and retired to the entrance. A woman came to help, when the guy backed her off. She herd him saying that all she needed was her boyfriend and no one else.

Deep breath and another one. And suddenly, it was all gone.

Lights everywhere, red and blue colouring the streets. She could barely see. Chattering people, screams of horror. She didn’t know what to think until she realised those eyes on her. She didn’t know where she was, but she felt her body in deep pain. Some warmth between her legs, she raised her hands only to see it covered in red. She fainted nothing but scared.

A lightening came through her head and her eyes opened to stare. Two familiar worried faces in front of her, the mom, the dad and tears without an explanation. She focused to feel her toes but the response told her that something was wrong. Questions came along with the doctor who had just come in. She didn’t know anything. Last think she remembered was being happy and then dozing off. As the explanations landed, it was all a horror movie.

He put her in the his car and got inside her. He raped her in the backseat while she was asleep. He promised to take care of her, instead, he was taking all he could. Hours later, when he was gone, her eyes began to open. He couldn’t be in trouble, he couldn’t be charged. He started the car, stepped down to fast forward and threw her out of the car along the way. He hoped she would never awake.

The news were everywhere: “slut shamed”, they said. “got what she deserved”, they shouted. While she would never walk again, her ears and eyes were all she wanted shut. “She shouldn’t be out alone so late”, they wrote. “look what she was wearing? she was asking for it!”, they guessed.

No words about the guy, no saying about the rapist. She was gone but it didn’t matter. She cried but nobody saw.
Her story was changed into a lie served raw.

I woke up in pain. Wishing it was only a dream, wishing it was something that it wasn’t real. But as dreams sometimes reflect our wild wishes, they also portrait the reality around us, bringing up the terrors and the fears the lie the deepest inside ourselves.

#metoo

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Campos

No meio da neblina matutina, ele caminhou decisivo.

Pensamentos embaralhados, uma jornada incompleta.
Nada em seu caminho o perturbava, apenas a mistura dentro de si.
Seus planos, suas ideias, seus amores.
Tudo e nada fazia sentido.
Ao mesmo tempo, intensamente.
Sabia que uma decisão havia de ser tomada, porém às variáveis devia-se considerar.

“O que dirá ela?”, pensou.
“Quais tormentos a tira o sono?”, perguntou-se.
Queria de tudo saber.

Seus passos constantes, sua respiração gelada.
Há muito não se sentia assim perturbado e há muito não se deixava levar.
Sua alma havia sido tomada por perguntas que não se permitia responder desde que ela se fora.
Seu coração, tomado e abandonado, lhe concediam pouco mais do que esperança.
Não quis desistir.

No meio da neblina matutina, ele respirou fundo.
Deixou o ar gelado da manhã de outono preencher seu corpo.
Sentiu o cheiro do mato, ainda congelado pela cerração da noite.
Ouviu os pingos distantes do derretimento do gelo.
Abriu seus braços.

Pediu ao universo que o levasse, que dissipasse sua agonia.
Sua alma estava enamorada, sua amada distante.
Tudo lhe parecia perdido.
Tudo lhe havia sido tirado.

Suas possibilidades então falidas
Ressurgiram, assim, das cinzas.
À imagem dela distorcida
Ao toque de suas mãos vazias.
Tocou-lhe a face, retornou à realidade.
Perguntou se apenas o sonho lhe faltava.

Entregou-se ao seu abraço
“Pra sempre?”, pediu ligeiro.
“Pra sempre!”, respondeu-lhe meigo.
Partiram, pois, a caminhar juntos
Na estrada, na vida.
Num querer contínuo, firme e adjunto.

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Sight

There is a story about a boy who was always climbing trees. He would walk the forests and the hills seeking the tallest it could ever be. When he came saw a tall one, he climbed it and checked out the view. But nothing pleased his sight. Nothing was good enough.

One day, while walking in foreign lands he spotted a very tall tree. Its peak disappeared in the clouds and its branches were long and firm. “This is it”, thought the boy, “I’ve found it!”. He ran to find its roots so he could make his way up. He walked and walked towards his dream.
Night fell, a new day came.

He continued with his mission, he didn’t give up. There was nothing else on his mind. He’d been dreaming about that tree his whole life. He needed to climb it, he felt it in his veins. He had to discover what was on its peak.

One morning, a week later, the kid woke up and saw the tree was gone. There was no sight of it, it’d vanished. “Is it the mist?”, he thought, “Have I gone in the wrong direction?”, he wondered. He had more questions than answers.
He sat down and wept.

The kid then felt tired. He was alone and thirsty and hungry. He looked back and around and didn’t recognise anything. He didn’t know where he was.
He then saw himself lost.

The tree was nowhere to be found. To reach its top was his dream, but his journey was led by a blind obsession. Of all the trees along the way, all beautiful rivers and mountains, the kid saw nothing of it.
They were simply forgotten and unseen.

All the possibilities he could have seen. The different sights, the beauty to the eyes. He’d missed it all, he’d lost himself. And now, alongside it all, the only thing he thought would give him pleasure had also disappeared.
His dream was gone.

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Safe Place

She closed her eyes for a second to process the words.

Her mind wandered, fleeing to find her safe place.
The beach, the wind, the sand. The sound of the waves.
Suddenly, it was all gone and she was standing there happy again.
Her safe place had the power of taking her where nothing else could and bringing her joy whenever danger was imminent.
This time, there was no danger, but great sorrow.

She felt the moment, the wind, the sounds.
She saw, then, her face in the distance.
Wrinkled, aged, full of memories and the marks of time.
Her fragile hair flowing with the wind unveiled those friendly eyes that gazed at her.
She saw movement, but she couldn’t reach it.

Stuck in the sand, her feet were not hers anymore.
She tried to scream, tell her to run.
No words came out.
When the storm came, she soaked in.
And the image in the distance disappeared.

The beach, the safe place, didn’t not feel so homey anymore.
No longer in peace, all consumed by rain.
There were more clouds, more hail and snow.
The sunshine was gone.
Safety had then disappeared.

With the safe place gone, she came back to reality
Her eyes wide open, her mind racing in circles.
She stared at the one in front of her.
“It will be okay”, it was said.
More tears, more misbelief.

The inner peace that once lived within
Chose now to be somewhere cloudy
Her safe place was no longer in rhythm
Instead, had to learn how to live without it.

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Reflexos

Ela caminhava na noite fria.
A rua estava um tanto deserta e ela estava só.
Havia névoa, mas ela estava fascinada pela beleza do outono que havia começado.
Seguiu.
Andou pelas luzes turvas e respirou fundo. Tão puro!
O ar gelado da noite invadiu seu corpo e trouxe um tanto de alívio.
Não entendeu o por quê.
Deu dois passos à frente e parou. Pensou ter ouvido seu nome e prestou atenção atenção no silêncio.
Nada.
Mais um passo, outra vez.
A voz era distante, fraca, mas estava certa de que era o seu nome que chamava.
Estremeceu.
Atentou para a direção daquele sussurro e caminhou ao encontro dele.
Sentia um certo medo, mas estava curiosa demais para fugir.
Seguiu em frente.
Ao passo que caminhava, o vento ficou mais forte e tudo mais denso.
As luzes eram mais fracas e a rua mais vazia.
Não se importou.
A voz distante chamava seu nome e ela estava decidida a encontra-la.
Avistou um vulto.
Alguém caminhava em sua direção.
Sentiu seu corpo gelar, e uma quantidade enorme de adrenalina invadir todas as partes.
Aos passos lentos, aproximavam-se. Ela não via o rosto, mas constatou ser uma mulher.
Ouviu novamente o seu nome num sussurro.
As luzes se acenderam.
Um súbito de medo e confusão atingiu sua alma quando reconheceu o rosto daquela que lhe chamava.
Ao que pensou em correr, uma mão segurou seu ombro e uma voz desconhecida gritou:
– Tarde demais!
Sentiu seu corpo ser empurrado para trás.
Sentiu uma imensidão inteira passar antes que alcançasse o chão.
Viu todas as suas memórias irem embora.
O vulto ainda a observava.
Acordou com o coração acelerado e a cabeça a mil.
Ainda assustada, tentou assimilar o pesadelo.
O vulto no espelho era seu próprio reflexo.
Queria entender.
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