Mi vida... tal cual

domingo, febrero 20, 2011

The Fragile

(Nine Inch Nails)

She wakes up in the morning, puts her clothes on, goes to the bathroom. Her eyes look straight at her through the mirror: it's time for some make-up. The texture of her skin slowly turns white. She closes the main door behind her and starts walking among the people surrounding that Monday morning. Everybody is running somewhere, every single corpse walking has its own chores.

She suddenly stops. As if she was trying to remember every single detail, she starts turning around in a 360º span. A lot of effort is put in contemplating the faces, the rigor mortis expressions everyone walks with through the city. She smiles blatantly, almost with a sadic grin, far from the happy gesture a lot of people do daily, no matter if they feel it, or if they don't. Nobody looks at her, it doesn't matter what she's doing. Like the tree falling in the middle of the woods, whose falling sound no one can notice, she starts questioning her own existence. If she's cut, she bleeds; that's supposed to be proof enough for some people, reaffirming pain as a means to an end, enjoying torturing their body to confirm the existence of their spirit. No, she's nowhere close that stupid. She aims with her thoughts a lot higher than that: she's determined to change a life, maybe one of the those surrounding her every second now. Far from the mundane, easy and trivial self-dare to seduce a man and having sex with him, she wants something completely different, something more: to be able to make a stranger step off the bus of the daily responsibilities of life, without resorting directly to sex.
So she simply sits in the middle of the most crowded street she could find. Some of them throw some coins before her, gesture she doesn't thank or show gratitude for, something that's simply enough for some people to get mad at her. But she's on a whole different level: after a while, they grow tired and they take their money back or start impulsively walking again, following their daily routines. She continues to sit there for a couple of hours and the hunger starts to feel palpable. Nobody trips on her anymore, the system has digested her presence and adapted already.

Till a man runnning from behind her falls down to the ground. She apologizes, but he ignores her and tells her to run for her life. That's when she realizes that the people following him think she's related somehow to the fugitive. Irrationally, she feels trapped and runs after him. In the split second she looked at him she saw the standard she could have loved in previous stages of her life: handsome, nice body, one day shave... perfect. If it weren't for her having an existential crisis and him running for his life, she may have put some effort into it. That's when he realizes she's following him and takes her hand. In the heat of the moment, even with her heart pumping and her breath fighting for survival, she felt the warmth of his hand. Something, she hadn't experienced in a long time. From that point on, she's enchanted, under a spell: she just keeps on running, as if her body wasn't the limit for her endurance, as if she could go on forever with him. They pass by a lot places, without stopping to get any 360º mental imageries. Even so, somehow, that's far from enough to be able to lose their persecutors.
They get into a building and start getting higher and higher through the staircase. Every time she looks down the stairs she sees a neverending black mass of people catching up to them. Once they reach the 5th floor, there's no more stairs to go through, just the door to the roof. After thrusting against if, the door's down. He continues running but she's always been respectful of heights. Not fearful, but aware of the consequences that it may bring you for taking it too lightly. For the first time with him, she hesitates: she's innerly asking herself if she should just throw the towel already or go till the end. Not long passes till he jumps the gap from the building they stood on to the next. It was barely a one meter wide gap, but still, free fall under it. He stops a few seconds to convince her from the other side, but she feels her knees weight more than she can bear: she falls to the ground. They hear their followers getting to the roof and slowly being closer and closer to them. In a last attempt of making her jump, he shouts: 'You are alive, don't let fear blind you! You're gonna give up so easily, after all this? I will catch you!' -no, he didn't. She tried to do it, but she didn't jump with enough thrust forward: she fell like a bag of potatoes. No flash before her eyes with the best moments of her life, no repenting for her actions: nothing. Just falling, just feeling the air against your face and all your insides burst against the floor. And pain, a lot of pain.

And then, numbness: she couldn't move, couldn't feel. She slowly realizes she's sitting and that she has her eyes closed. She opens them: she's just there in the middle of the street again. She fell asleep trying to change a stranger's life for a day. Some more people had thrown money before her. She picks it up, stands up, calls a friend, has sex with him, throws him politely out of the house, goes to the bathroom, feels highly disappointed, gets the make-up off her face, lays in bed, masturbates, finishes, switches to fetal position and stares to the ceiling, insomniac. She's happy now.

1 Comments:

Anonymous your reader said...

Just one word: Amazing!

I like this girl! At least she ended well...

8:32 p. m.  

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