Silence Day

Silence day

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Wow, it feels so good to be here again. My old house; I can remember everything. That big blue window, in which I spend all my sad hours looking through it. That small but comfortable bathroom witnessed all that crying that life gives me as a present for being a %$&@-/ my entire school pass. Well… At the end I never finish it.

I never felt with my nude feet the street floor before. It is the first time I can breathe freely too, without thinking that someone with a rock is gonna follow me until I can't continue, giving them the opportunity of letting go all their rage on my now red face because the blood. I wanna cry, but I just can't do it.

I can hear something now. It's so familiar to me, I'm walking in direction of the childhood sad music that makes me chill down the spine. Something unusual started running around by body. It is so strange; we are supposed to be free of feeling at this point. Well, it is understandable; I never followed the rules, not even on that last day, when I broke that sacred code, “Only God can take off your life”. But I had a good reason. Finally, who can assure me that wasn't God plans? There have to be a reason, chosen by the destine that makes me being asocial from I had memory.

Now the bell is on movement, it means my school friends… Sorry, my school partners are going home. At this our I normally was the first at gong out of the school, running of all that “cool group” of black jackets that had on the routine kick my ass. I'm sorry to be repeating this a hundred times, but is the only type of remembers I have of that repeating this a hundred times, but is the only type of remembers I have of that infinite days, in which my second home was the Central Hospital of the Carmen Virgen, the only one that was there for me. Well, she and my only true friend, Elias, my trustful best and true friend. I'm looking now to Daniel, that 1.87 feet tall guy that was the reason of all my problems, crying and decisions … Yes, that kind of decisions.

I'm looking now to that street in which I learned to handle a bike, when I was 5 and I was that happy that the last option I could imagine was to arrive here, where children of 17 years old not supposed to be. That times when I had a family, with a mother that receives me after school, not an alcoholic mom; with a mother that receives me after school, not an alcoholic mom; with a father that taught me how to play basketball, not a thieve living on the prison father; with a brother that helps me with my first love, not a drug that I don't know where is now. Again, some reason had the destine. That street where I lived.

Getting into this house again