Lua Nova, 14 de Maio de 2010
You may think who I am... How did this happen... Why am I here.
So, I'll tell you.
I was just leaving my soccer practice and crossing the road when I realized that I'd fortgotten my cell phone and wallet at the locker and because of that I turned back without noticing what was coming in my direction. As you probably guessed: a car.
First I only felt metal hitting me, then I couldn't feel the ground beneath me anymore... This is, until I felt my whole body coliding with it. After that, a large amount of pain flowed through my body and I could clearly feel my head throbbing.
I don't know how much time passed since the car hit me, however after sometime the driver was screaming (I guess I'd be screaming too, if I was in his situation) only to make my pain worse than it was before. Behind him another people appeared and gathered around me shouting and calling the police and the 911.
And now: here I am. Lying on the street.
While they are calling all the entities, usually called in situations like this, I'll try to make a quick check-up on my body, trying to move it bit by bit.
Feet: fine.
Legs: fine.
Hands: fine.
Arms: right one is fine; left one isn't so fine.
Head and neck: guess they're fine but never try it again (at least, not anytime soon).
I'm not paralized. Yay me!
Now I'll focus on the people around me. The number has increased, a lot... Which is pissing me off! And my vision is getting a bit blurry. This pisses me off too.
"Does he have any identification?" "Does someone here knows him?" Oh yeah! This was a great day to forget my things in the locker. Not a single familiar face here.
"How long will the ambulance take to get here?" Great question! I wouldn't mind if it hurried here.
"He doesn't look very well..." Hello??! How would you look if you were hit by a car?
Damn it. Damn it! DAMN IT! I'm losing my conscience... I gotta keep holding on!
I can't die here alone! (All right, I'm not alone... But I'm not with someone who I know!)
I've got to fight this. Damn all this.
"Let me through."
Just get a hold of yourself, man!
"It's really you, J.?"
Wait, me? Yes, it's me. I know this voice.
"It's me! Don't worry I'm here."
Why can't I say something?
At least see who she is!
Damn blurry vision!
"Hold on a bit longer."
It's all getting dark.
"Don't..."
Damn darkness!
"...die."
Damn me...
sábado, 15 de maio de 2010
quarta-feira, 14 de abril de 2010
HIS
Lua Nova, 14 de Abril de 2010
It was getting on my nerves...
I had already spotted her several times when she was spying on us, or more especifically, on him. I won't be able to hold myself back much longer, if she continues to follow him around.
Ever since the day she asked him to be her partner, she didn't stop this stalking.
I know, I know... Who am I to blame and judge her? I'm his true partner, for a matter of fact. Therefore, I have my opinion in all of this. We've been together since the beginning. He is my best friend and I respect him. We weren't classified as a "perfect match" but even that has changed (I doubt that there would be many partners as close as we were now).
And another thing that I wouldn't confess to anyone on Earth... I love him.
That's why it bothered me: when she made that hateful request, he didn't answer her. He didn't say "Yes" but he didn't say "No"... And that hurt. Though I know he'd risk, no, he'd give his life to save mine (and he proved that too many times to count) which meant for sure that he values her, and I'm almost sure that he wouldn't do that for that new girl.
But at some times, all I want is scream at her, expose her in front of everyone (but I know that I'd be reacting only by jealousy)... However that would only satisfy my own selfish soul. If he didn't answer that means he has his own reasons and I'll respect that.
I would never accept someone else as my partner. He is my partner. Mine alone.
All I want is him to feel the same. I want him to see me as his partner. Only his.
It was getting on my nerves...
I had already spotted her several times when she was spying on us, or more especifically, on him. I won't be able to hold myself back much longer, if she continues to follow him around.
Ever since the day she asked him to be her partner, she didn't stop this stalking.
I know, I know... Who am I to blame and judge her? I'm his true partner, for a matter of fact. Therefore, I have my opinion in all of this. We've been together since the beginning. He is my best friend and I respect him. We weren't classified as a "perfect match" but even that has changed (I doubt that there would be many partners as close as we were now).
And another thing that I wouldn't confess to anyone on Earth... I love him.
That's why it bothered me: when she made that hateful request, he didn't answer her. He didn't say "Yes" but he didn't say "No"... And that hurt. Though I know he'd risk, no, he'd give his life to save mine (and he proved that too many times to count) which meant for sure that he values her, and I'm almost sure that he wouldn't do that for that new girl.
But at some times, all I want is scream at her, expose her in front of everyone (but I know that I'd be reacting only by jealousy)... However that would only satisfy my own selfish soul. If he didn't answer that means he has his own reasons and I'll respect that.
I would never accept someone else as my partner. He is my partner. Mine alone.
All I want is him to feel the same. I want him to see me as his partner. Only his.
segunda-feira, 15 de março de 2010
SOMETHING DIFFERENT
Lua Nova, 15 de Março de 2010
I wake up in the morning and the sunlight is there as always to greet me. Still, I don't feel like waking up...
"Arrggghhh, but I have classes today!!
There's no point in arguing I have to get up."
Dressing up, take breakfast and walk to school... Same as ever.
"So, why do I feel so weird? It's like I'm uneasy about something."
Just drop the subject, Rose. Focus on school... You have to concentrate: tomorrow's the day of the test and you have studied~
I wake up in the morning and the sunlight is there as always to greet me. Still, I don't feel like waking up...
"Arrggghhh, but I have classes today!!
There's no point in arguing I have to get up."
Dressing up, take breakfast and walk to school... Same as ever.
"So, why do I feel so weird? It's like I'm uneasy about something."
Just drop the subject, Rose. Focus on school... You have to concentrate: tomorrow's the day of the test and you have studied~
"Hi, Rosy!!"
~nothing. And something is telling me that you won't be able to do it so soon...
"Hey, Cally."
"What's wrong with you?
I wouldn't mind a bit more 'smiling' in your greeting."
I wouldn't mind it either. But I just can't.
"I'm just worried about the test tomorrow.
I still have to study all out of 267 pages for it."
"Bah... Don't worry about it!
For someone like you is a piece of cake.
Even myself, the great Calliope, is not worried...
"The great Calliope?"
"Woah... So much sarcasm in three words.
Don't be so grumpy. I'm just trying to cheer you up!"
"All right, all right..."
I do feel a bit better, even though I feel like I'm completely out of place.
"Then distract me from myself... Any good gossips?"
"I always knew that I could bring you to the dark side of the gossips world!
Well, let's see:
- Amanda from class B is back to her 'ex';"
Who cares?
"- Joe from 11th grade, class E was caught taking pictures to the Principal playing Sims, while he was suppose to be in a important meeting;"
Thank God! Maybe this time he'll learn to be more discrete.
"- Ruth from class D disappeared, some people say that a suspicious guy followed her after school, but I think that's overreacting... Maybe she's just ditching;"
Let's hope so. Poor girl, she's always so shy...
"- Riley and his brother are going trough therapy because of their parents' divorce;"
That's so overreacting...
"- May is~
RRRRIIIIINNNG
Woohoo! Saved by the bell.
I thought that it was endless list.
"Maybe you can end it after school... Now: English Literature."
"Noooo..."
Geez! I don't know what to do with her... or without her.
"Thanks for trying to help me Cally."
Though it didn't change anything
"Always here for you!"
- After school is over -
"Hey, do you want to go with us to the mall?"
"You know I don't... Studying, remember?"
"Ok, Major Nerd... See you tomorrow then.
Bye!"
"See you!"
Now, get home as fast as possible and get to studying.
Maybe then this creepy feeling goes away.
It's getting darker... and colder.
"Brrr. So cold... I have to get~"
Why is my mouth covered?
What's this?
...Ruth from class D disappeared...
Who's this?
...a suspicious guy followed her...
Why do I keep thinking about this?
"Let~"
Was this the reason... for that feeling?
Like something was different?
"~me~"
Did I know that something was going to happen?
"~go!"
I just noticed the knife next to my neck.
It's starting to pierce it.
I'm going to die.
terça-feira, 16 de fevereiro de 2010
DIA DOS NAMORADOS
Lua Nova, 14 de Fevereiro de 2010
Apenas escrevo esta carta, porque sei que nunca a chegarás a ler e eu nunca terei a coragem de te a entregar. Por isso, esta é a única maneira de te poder dizer o que sinto.
Querido Daniel,
Andamos na mesma turma desde a primária, masquase de certeza que não sabes disso. Nunca me falaste, ou sequer cumprimentaste... Eu até consigo perceber: és um dos rapazes mais populares e eu, nem por isso. Podia tentar Tento falar contigo, mas parece que sempre que arranjo coragem para falar, algo me impede de o fazer.
Por isso, aproveito este dia paraescrever ficares a saber os meus sentimentos por ti. Todos os anos, o dia 14 de Fevereiro, Dia dos Namorados, é considerado um dos dias mais felizes do ano. Um dia para os apaixonados poderem dar largas à sua imaginação para surpreender e mostrar o que sentem quão forte é o seu amor pela outra pessoa. Um dia em que o amor é celebrado por todos quase todos. No entanto, será que alguém se lembra daquelas pessoas, como eu, que não têm ninguém a quem declarar o seu amor ou não o podem/conseguem fazer? Claro que não. Alguém imagina o quanto este dia faz sofrer essas pessoas? Não basta que durante o resto do ano não tenham alguém que amem e que sejam amadas, mas também criaram um dia que possam os relembra o quão falhados miseráveis são.
Mas eu não consigo sofrer mais.Preciso Tenho de desabafar de alguma maneira, por isso é que estou a escrever isto.
Sem mais demoras,
dito escrito.
Por alguma razão, sinto-me mais aliviada, mas mesmo assim continuo a sofrer e vou continuar até poder dizer isto cara-à-cara... E tu retribuires os meus sentimentos, claro.
Apenas escrevo esta carta, porque sei que nunca a chegarás a ler e eu nunca terei a coragem de te a entregar. Por isso, esta é a única maneira de te poder dizer o que sinto.
Andamos na mesma turma desde a primária, mas
Por isso, aproveito este dia para
Mas eu não consigo sofrer mais.
Sem mais demoras,
Daniel, eu AMO-TE.
Pronto. Está Por alguma razão, sinto-me mais aliviada, mas mesmo assim continuo a sofrer e vou continuar até poder dizer isto cara-à-cara... E tu retribuires os meus sentimentos, claro.
Amo-te e amar-te-ei sempre,
S. A.
sexta-feira, 15 de janeiro de 2010
SER OU NÃO SER
Lua Nova, 15 de Janeiro de 2010
Não importa o que faço ou como ajo. Por mais que me esforce, nunca valerá a pena.
Sempre tentei agradar-vos, fazer o que querem, fazer com que tenham orgulho em mim. Não é só por mim que trabalho, quando estou até de madrugada a estudar, ou que passo a maioria do meu tempo a estudar... Não! Eu também faço isto por vocês. Para que no final reconheçam que não me criaram para nada... Quero que vejam valor no que faço.
Mas isso é impossível! Porque mesmo sendo a melhor da turma, nunca estou à altura. Nunca sou a melhor para vocês.
Quando parece que consegui... Estou completamente enganada. Há sempre alguém que consegue fazer algo melhor do que eu, ou então, que eu não consigo fazer.
Porque é que nunca me aceitam como sou? Porque é que há sempre alguém que preferiam que eu fosse?
Não vos consigo perceber... Quando estão a falar com outras pessoas e os filhos delas, quase que acredito quando dizem "Temos sorte por a termos" ou "Ela não nos dás esses problemas". Mas mais tarde, já sei que o filho de um dos vossos amigos fez qualquer coisa que eu não faço.
Como podem pedir tanto de mim, quando vocês nunca se esforçaram metade do que me esforço... Nem mesmo se juntassem o esforço dos dois.
E, na minha opinião que é tantas vezes censurada, esse é o vosso... Não, o meu. Esse é o meu problema: ser melhor do que vocês.
Por isso é que sempre deitam as minhas convicções abaixo, destroem os meus sonhos, fazem pouco dos meus gostos e fazem com que tudo pelo qual me esforcei pareça que não valha nada. Mas eu garanto-vos, não há nada que possam fazer que me leve a desistir do que já consegui alcançar até agora. Não vou abrir mão de tudo o que não vos importa, mas que me irá levar para um novo capítulo na minha vida. Aí vou mostrar-vos como sou melhor que vocês e já sabem "contra factos não há argumentos".
No entanto, ainda são meus pais. Por mais que vos queira odiar, não consigo. Só vos posso dizer como lamento que não consigam ter mais amor à vossa filha do que a vós próprios. Desculpem-me por ser o que não queriam que fosse e por não ser o que querem que seja.
Espero que algum dia me consigam desculpar...
Não importa o que faço ou como ajo. Por mais que me esforce, nunca valerá a pena.
Sempre tentei agradar-vos, fazer o que querem, fazer com que tenham orgulho em mim. Não é só por mim que trabalho, quando estou até de madrugada a estudar, ou que passo a maioria do meu tempo a estudar... Não! Eu também faço isto por vocês. Para que no final reconheçam que não me criaram para nada... Quero que vejam valor no que faço.
Mas isso é impossível! Porque mesmo sendo a melhor da turma, nunca estou à altura. Nunca sou a melhor para vocês.
Quando parece que consegui... Estou completamente enganada. Há sempre alguém que consegue fazer algo melhor do que eu, ou então, que eu não consigo fazer.
Porque é que nunca me aceitam como sou? Porque é que há sempre alguém que preferiam que eu fosse?
Não vos consigo perceber... Quando estão a falar com outras pessoas e os filhos delas, quase que acredito quando dizem "Temos sorte por a termos" ou "Ela não nos dás esses problemas". Mas mais tarde, já sei que o filho de um dos vossos amigos fez qualquer coisa que eu não faço.
Como podem pedir tanto de mim, quando vocês nunca se esforçaram metade do que me esforço... Nem mesmo se juntassem o esforço dos dois.
E, na minha opinião que é tantas vezes censurada, esse é o vosso... Não, o meu. Esse é o meu problema: ser melhor do que vocês.
Por isso é que sempre deitam as minhas convicções abaixo, destroem os meus sonhos, fazem pouco dos meus gostos e fazem com que tudo pelo qual me esforcei pareça que não valha nada. Mas eu garanto-vos, não há nada que possam fazer que me leve a desistir do que já consegui alcançar até agora. Não vou abrir mão de tudo o que não vos importa, mas que me irá levar para um novo capítulo na minha vida. Aí vou mostrar-vos como sou melhor que vocês e já sabem "contra factos não há argumentos".
No entanto, ainda são meus pais. Por mais que vos queira odiar, não consigo. Só vos posso dizer como lamento que não consigam ter mais amor à vossa filha do que a vós próprios. Desculpem-me por ser o que não queriam que fosse e por não ser o que querem que seja.
Espero que algum dia me consigam desculpar...
quinta-feira, 17 de dezembro de 2009
Lua Nova, 16 de Dezembro de 2009
I. Don't. Care. About. Anything.
I don't care how I look. I don't care about what I say. I don't even care if people believe what I say.
It's just... so useless to care.
Why do I have to? I know what I am. I don't need other people to tell me that...
Do I?
Still... There are so many people who do. They care about everything: words, looks, actions... All these worries so that they can be accepted. Many of them are absolutely the opposite of what they show to other people.
Such hypocrites.
Why do they try to be someone else, if they're not like that? Is it essential to them to not be judged? Like a need?
If they pretend to be other person, it's because they don't accept themselves. How do they want to be accepted by others?
So stupid.
Even so... Am I not the same?
No.
Why did I even care to think about this?
I. Don't. Care. About. Anything.
I don't care how I look. I don't care about what I say. I don't even care if people believe what I say.
It's just... so useless to care.
Why do I have to? I know what I am. I don't need other people to tell me that...
Do I?
Still... There are so many people who do. They care about everything: words, looks, actions... All these worries so that they can be accepted. Many of them are absolutely the opposite of what they show to other people.
Such hypocrites.
Why do they try to be someone else, if they're not like that? Is it essential to them to not be judged? Like a need?
I can't believe this...
If they pretend to be other person, it's because they don't accept themselves. How do they want to be accepted by others?
So stupid.
Even so... Am I not the same?
No.
Guess I care about it, after all...
terça-feira, 17 de novembro de 2009
ANGEL
Lua Nova, 16 de Novembro de 2009
Angels are the messengers of God. The ones supposed to do His job. Supernatural beings that look like humans but have wings...
Everyone knows how angels look like and they simply love them for their features. I bet anyone would like to know or see one. Humans are easily astonished by their slim figure, dazzling beauty, gracious pose and, most of all, their wide, elegant, pure white wings...
All people like the wings of the angels (the possibility of flying always fascinated humans).
However with me is different. Even though I'm an angel, people try their best to not see me, to escape from me...
Why? Why do they always do that? It's not worth it and all it does is make me feel sorry for them, but I still have to do my job. God's job.
I don't understand why humans run away from me. I'm not too different from the others... We're very alike, except for my wings. Although they're wider than the others' they're not white... They're tainted by the darkest colour: black. So are my robes, hair and eyes...
All of you will see me... Ones sooner than the others, but all will.
And then, you'll run away from me. However you'll understand that no one can escape me (for some reason I've the widest wings). You just have to accept the fact that your time has come... Then let me cut the last string that cling you to this world and leave it.
As you've understood I'm no normal angel... I'm the angel that God has confided the job of taking the souls of people who die. The Angel of Death.
Angels are the messengers of God. The ones supposed to do His job. Supernatural beings that look like humans but have wings...
Everyone knows how angels look like and they simply love them for their features. I bet anyone would like to know or see one. Humans are easily astonished by their slim figure, dazzling beauty, gracious pose and, most of all, their wide, elegant, pure white wings...
All people like the wings of the angels (the possibility of flying always fascinated humans).
However with me is different. Even though I'm an angel, people try their best to not see me, to escape from me...
Why? Why do they always do that? It's not worth it and all it does is make me feel sorry for them, but I still have to do my job. God's job.
I don't understand why humans run away from me. I'm not too different from the others... We're very alike, except for my wings. Although they're wider than the others' they're not white... They're tainted by the darkest colour: black. So are my robes, hair and eyes...
All of you will see me... Ones sooner than the others, but all will.
And then, you'll run away from me. However you'll understand that no one can escape me (for some reason I've the widest wings). You just have to accept the fact that your time has come... Then let me cut the last string that cling you to this world and leave it.
As you've understood I'm no normal angel... I'm the angel that God has confided the job of taking the souls of people who die. The Angel of Death.
terça-feira, 20 de outubro de 2009
REFLECTION
Lua Nova, 18 de Outubro de 2009
It doesn't matter. It's always the same. Anytime I dare to open my eyes it's always there. That image which haunts me for the rest of my days.
I look into the mirror and it's there: my own distorted reflection...
I can no longer see the person I was. All I can see now is a shadow of what I used to be.
There's no longer bright yellow hair, shiny blue eyes or whatever I was. No... What I see is dull, brittle blond hair and lifeless eyes with deep, dark shadows around them.
That's to be expected. My old friends warned me, but I didn't listen to them. I thought they were just scared of trying. But no... They were right, I was wrong. They have a life, I don't.
Who knew that one experience would turn my life so fast to this degree? It's the truth... I thought I'd be able to try and leave it alone... I was wrong once again... Really wrong...
Now I'm addicted to this... There's no way around it.
All I can do now is wait.
Wait for that reflection to fade away.
It doesn't matter. It's always the same. Anytime I dare to open my eyes it's always there. That image which haunts me for the rest of my days.
I look into the mirror and it's there: my own distorted reflection...
I can no longer see the person I was. All I can see now is a shadow of what I used to be.
There's no longer bright yellow hair, shiny blue eyes or whatever I was. No... What I see is dull, brittle blond hair and lifeless eyes with deep, dark shadows around them.
That's to be expected. My old friends warned me, but I didn't listen to them. I thought they were just scared of trying. But no... They were right, I was wrong. They have a life, I don't.
Who knew that one experience would turn my life so fast to this degree? It's the truth... I thought I'd be able to try and leave it alone... I was wrong once again... Really wrong...
Now I'm addicted to this... There's no way around it.
All I can do now is wait.
Wait for that reflection to fade away.
sexta-feira, 18 de setembro de 2009
SONHO
Lua Nova, 18 de Setembro de 2009
Estava a chover. A maioria das pessoas tinha-se refugiado nas suas casas, mas no cemitério encontrava-se um pequeno grupo de pessoas.
Uma rapariga tinha sido brutalmente assassinada e este era o seu funeral.
Todos sabiam deste homicídio e em todos os jornais houve fotografias do corpo da vítima mergulhado numa poça do seu próprio sangue. No entanto, os únicos presentes no funeral foram a família e um rapaz.
Quando ele apareceu, os pais da rapariga ficaram surpresos (a filha nunca tinha tido amigos), mas nada disseram e deixaram-no participar na cerimónia fúnebre.
A sua cara não apresentava qualquer emoção, mas os seus olhos mostravam o turbilhão de emoções que tentava esconder com a sua expressão rígida. Enquanto assistia ao funeral, não ouvia uma única palavra que estivesse a ser dita... Estava demasiado envolto na memória que guardou do dia em que se mudou para a nova escola.
Tinha entrado na sala e a professora indicou-lhe o lugar atrás de uma rapariga que se encontrava concentrada em algo no lado de fora da janela. Ele reparou que os olhos dela estavam desprovidos de qualquer emoção.
Mais tarde, no mesmo dia, falou com ela. Apresentaram-se e conversaram um pouco.
Ela pareceu-lhe um pouco chocada, mas ele conseguiu trazer alguma vida aos seus olhos.
No fim, despediram-se e cada um foi para casa. Ele apercebeu-se que ela não tinha muitos desejos ou sonhos que quisesse concretizar: a sua expressão mostrava isso e mais outra coisa, ao princípio não era muito evidente, mas depois o rapaz percebeu o que era: desinteresse... "Como se julgasse que nenhum sonho fosse possível concretizar e, após ter perdido todas as esperanças, se tivesse apercebido que não valia de nada sonhar."
Nos dois meses seguintes, ele tinha continuado a tentar tornar-se mais próxima dela, apesar de há muito ter reparado que ela não gostava muito de estar com outras pessoas. "Mas isso não me impede de tentar..." E, assim, continuou a manter pequenas conversas com ela.
Isso levou-o ao acontecimento de alguns dias atrás.
Quando tinha entrado na sala ela não estava no seu lugar habitual... Foi então que a professora comunicou à turma que tinha acontecido um acidente terrível... Ela tinha sido assassinada.
"Não... Não é possível... NÃO!"
Após esta notícia, houve um ruído de fundo na sala, devido à natureza da notícia, que rapidamente se silenciou. Isto incomodou-o. Como era possível não dizerem ou sentirem nada por uma colega que tinha acabado de morrer? Nem sequer estavam perturbados com o facto de ter sido assassinada.
Então nessa altura saiu da sala de aula e foi para casa...
Este último pensamento fez com que a sua máscara caísse e que as lágrimas que estava a manter encerradas nos seus olhos, fluíssem livremente. E sentiu raiva. Raiva de si por não ter tentado mais. Raiva por não lhe ter dito o que sentia por ela ou que sonhava que um dia...
"Já não interessa! Agora esse dia nunca mais iria chegar..."
No fim do funeral, foi-se embora com uma única esperança: quando morresse haveria de a encontrar.
Deste modo, continuaria a sonhar com ela.
Estava a chover. A maioria das pessoas tinha-se refugiado nas suas casas, mas no cemitério encontrava-se um pequeno grupo de pessoas.
Uma rapariga tinha sido brutalmente assassinada e este era o seu funeral.
Todos sabiam deste homicídio e em todos os jornais houve fotografias do corpo da vítima mergulhado numa poça do seu próprio sangue. No entanto, os únicos presentes no funeral foram a família e um rapaz.
Quando ele apareceu, os pais da rapariga ficaram surpresos (a filha nunca tinha tido amigos), mas nada disseram e deixaram-no participar na cerimónia fúnebre.
A sua cara não apresentava qualquer emoção, mas os seus olhos mostravam o turbilhão de emoções que tentava esconder com a sua expressão rígida. Enquanto assistia ao funeral, não ouvia uma única palavra que estivesse a ser dita... Estava demasiado envolto na memória que guardou do dia em que se mudou para a nova escola.
Tinha entrado na sala e a professora indicou-lhe o lugar atrás de uma rapariga que se encontrava concentrada em algo no lado de fora da janela. Ele reparou que os olhos dela estavam desprovidos de qualquer emoção.
Mais tarde, no mesmo dia, falou com ela. Apresentaram-se e conversaram um pouco.
Ela pareceu-lhe um pouco chocada, mas ele conseguiu trazer alguma vida aos seus olhos.
No fim, despediram-se e cada um foi para casa. Ele apercebeu-se que ela não tinha muitos desejos ou sonhos que quisesse concretizar: a sua expressão mostrava isso e mais outra coisa, ao princípio não era muito evidente, mas depois o rapaz percebeu o que era: desinteresse... "Como se julgasse que nenhum sonho fosse possível concretizar e, após ter perdido todas as esperanças, se tivesse apercebido que não valia de nada sonhar."
Nos dois meses seguintes, ele tinha continuado a tentar tornar-se mais próxima dela, apesar de há muito ter reparado que ela não gostava muito de estar com outras pessoas. "Mas isso não me impede de tentar..." E, assim, continuou a manter pequenas conversas com ela.
Isso levou-o ao acontecimento de alguns dias atrás.
Quando tinha entrado na sala ela não estava no seu lugar habitual... Foi então que a professora comunicou à turma que tinha acontecido um acidente terrível... Ela tinha sido assassinada.
"Não... Não é possível... NÃO!"
Após esta notícia, houve um ruído de fundo na sala, devido à natureza da notícia, que rapidamente se silenciou. Isto incomodou-o. Como era possível não dizerem ou sentirem nada por uma colega que tinha acabado de morrer? Nem sequer estavam perturbados com o facto de ter sido assassinada.
Então nessa altura saiu da sala de aula e foi para casa...
Este último pensamento fez com que a sua máscara caísse e que as lágrimas que estava a manter encerradas nos seus olhos, fluíssem livremente. E sentiu raiva. Raiva de si por não ter tentado mais. Raiva por não lhe ter dito o que sentia por ela ou que sonhava que um dia...
"Já não interessa! Agora esse dia nunca mais iria chegar..."
No fim do funeral, foi-se embora com uma única esperança: quando morresse haveria de a encontrar.
Deste modo, continuaria a sonhar com ela.
quinta-feira, 20 de agosto de 2009
MAYBE NEXT TIME
Lua Nova, 20 de Agosto de 2009
I looked outside and noticed that she was preparing to leave. Again...
Her family was already packing the big suitcases in the car and it was all a big mess around the house: people coming in and out.
Usually, I wouldn't notice such things but it all started five years ago... After our old neighbours left the house they bought it and start using it as a place for vacation.
However I only saw her during Christmas holidays. I was coming from the garage with the decorations and one car arrived and entered the empty house. After that, another car came and two girls left it along with their parents. From the first car left two elders, people that I come to know that were the girl's grandparents.
My first thought about the girls was that their style was completely different. And after that I tried to figure out how their characters were based on the styles of each one. The older one (at least that was what I first thought because she was taller) wore an orange blouse and a black mini-skirt (which made shivers down my spine, thinking about the cold day it was). The other one seemed a bit more aware of the weather she wore dark jeans, a purple sweater and a brown coat.
After some time all of them came to my house and presented themselves. Then I found out the girls were sisters and that the one that I thought was older, was actually the youngest (and not as tall as she seemed first) and her name was Violet. She had brown eyes, brown hair and was much tanned. She was talkative, nice and she was afraid of our dog (and all the other around the world, as her grandmother told, mush to Violet dismay).
The older one was Analisa, she was the opposite of her sister. She had amazing blue eyes, light brown hair and her skin was white as snow. To contrast even more her personality was completely different from Violet's too: she was shy, didn't spoke very much (although she smiled, really meaning it, or so her eyes showed, and blushed a lot) and spent most of the time with Ned (our dog). She really loved dogs so when I asked why she didn't had one, she blushed and said, with a somehow sad grin, that her parents didn't let her. And we both played with Ned without further talk until she went back home.
Then they come every holiday and went to their hometown whenever the school started. Although we didn't talk much, I started developing some feelings for Analisa... She was so caring and sweet but I never could find the guts to tell her how I really felt (nor to ask her number or e-mail).
This year I thought it would be easier at least ask her to go out with his friends or come to his house and spent some time together, but I never could do it... It was, I don't know... frightening?
We don't know each other very well... We only see each other during vacations! So it would be awkward to tell her how I felt about her... I mean, I couldn't tell her just like this out of the blue, right?... (Right???)
Yeah, right... But it wouldn't be really out of the blue, I know (almost for sure) that she feels something towards me too. When she (often) caught me staring at her yard, or so I try to pretend, but I think I don't do it too well because she turns to me and locks my gaze with her own, and then she smiles with all her being.
Still, I don't know whather life back at her hometown is ... I don't even know if she has a... a... boyfriend!!!
However, it doesn't really matter now... This summer is ending and so is her staying here.
She is taking her stuff with her.
They are already inside the car.
That's it.
They're ready to go...
Wait, she is... waving me (has she noticed that I've been spacing out, all this time... thinking about her?).
I can't just let her leave without say anything! I'll just open the window...
- Goodbye Analisa!
She said something I couldn't catch quite right, but it was something like "See you in Christmas!"
Maybe there's hope after all... Maybe next time I can tell her how I feel.
It's better if I close the window... it's too hot outside.
- MOM!! What do you think of... I don't know... maybe invite our neighbours over next time??
I looked outside and noticed that she was preparing to leave. Again...
Her family was already packing the big suitcases in the car and it was all a big mess around the house: people coming in and out.
Usually, I wouldn't notice such things but it all started five years ago... After our old neighbours left the house they bought it and start using it as a place for vacation.
However I only saw her during Christmas holidays. I was coming from the garage with the decorations and one car arrived and entered the empty house. After that, another car came and two girls left it along with their parents. From the first car left two elders, people that I come to know that were the girl's grandparents.
My first thought about the girls was that their style was completely different. And after that I tried to figure out how their characters were based on the styles of each one. The older one (at least that was what I first thought because she was taller) wore an orange blouse and a black mini-skirt (which made shivers down my spine, thinking about the cold day it was). The other one seemed a bit more aware of the weather she wore dark jeans, a purple sweater and a brown coat.
After some time all of them came to my house and presented themselves. Then I found out the girls were sisters and that the one that I thought was older, was actually the youngest (and not as tall as she seemed first) and her name was Violet. She had brown eyes, brown hair and was much tanned. She was talkative, nice and she was afraid of our dog (and all the other around the world, as her grandmother told, mush to Violet dismay).
The older one was Analisa, she was the opposite of her sister. She had amazing blue eyes, light brown hair and her skin was white as snow. To contrast even more her personality was completely different from Violet's too: she was shy, didn't spoke very much (although she smiled, really meaning it, or so her eyes showed, and blushed a lot) and spent most of the time with Ned (our dog). She really loved dogs so when I asked why she didn't had one, she blushed and said, with a somehow sad grin, that her parents didn't let her. And we both played with Ned without further talk until she went back home.
Then they come every holiday and went to their hometown whenever the school started. Although we didn't talk much, I started developing some feelings for Analisa... She was so caring and sweet but I never could find the guts to tell her how I really felt (nor to ask her number or e-mail).
This year I thought it would be easier at least ask her to go out with his friends or come to his house and spent some time together, but I never could do it... It was, I don't know... frightening?
We don't know each other very well... We only see each other during vacations! So it would be awkward to tell her how I felt about her... I mean, I couldn't tell her just like this out of the blue, right?... (Right???)
Yeah, right... But it wouldn't be really out of the blue, I know (almost for sure) that she feels something towards me too. When she (often) caught me staring at her yard, or so I try to pretend, but I think I don't do it too well because she turns to me and locks my gaze with her own, and then she smiles with all her being.
Still, I don't know whather life back at her hometown is ... I don't even know if she has a... a... boyfriend!!!
However, it doesn't really matter now... This summer is ending and so is her staying here.
She is taking her stuff with her.
They are already inside the car.
That's it.
They're ready to go...
Wait, she is... waving me (has she noticed that I've been spacing out, all this time... thinking about her?).
I can't just let her leave without say anything! I'll just open the window...
- Goodbye Analisa!
She said something I couldn't catch quite right, but it was something like "See you in Christmas!"
Maybe there's hope after all... Maybe next time I can tell her how I feel.
It's better if I close the window... it's too hot outside.
- MOM!! What do you think of... I don't know... maybe invite our neighbours over next time??
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