What I thought were bullets, was actually the beeping from my alarm clock. I was beginning to see it as my savior, it was the third time it took me out of my nightmares. I stared at the ceiling, poorly lighted due to the curtains. I waited for my mind to remember that it was all a trick, that they were only memories, and for my heart to slow down its pulse. My hands were shaking, a cold sweat slidding down my neck. Finally, I sighed, licked my lips and rummaged between my sheets, grumpy and cursing quietly. Sleeping was going to slowly drive me crazy if this nightmares didn't stop.
At least I was grateful that I woke up right before the part where four bullets hit Arturo when he tried to cover me. The moment when I realized that my great-grandfather was leaving me way sooner than I could accept. Despite how much I wanted to scream for help, I had to keep quiet while the murderer walked away, looking for more victims, and the blood of my great-granpa slowly surrounded me, breaking my heart in the process.
“Why dream about this, after so long?” I wondered, annoyed, "Is it so necessary to repeat these scenarios forever?"
I decided to ignore the subject once more and preferably to prepare myself for one of the last days of middle school. Being so close to the end of the month, I was already out of money, so taking a bus wasn't an option. I'd have to walk over forty minutes to reach my destiny. I took a quick shower, taking my time on my long, copper colored hair, while I mentally reminded myself to leave a keyset to my neighbour to take care of my dog while I was gone. I was barely able to look at my breakfast, my stomach was upset because the blood in my nightmare remained present in my head. When washing the dishes, I caught a glimpse of the white and ugly scars in my wrists, and wasn't able to suppress a grimace.
I wish they'd disappear I complained, then took my necklace between my hands, an old gift from my mom: a small, gold angel with tiny diamonds in its dress. My great-grandpa would be really sad if he knew about them... I said life was beautiful, yet I did something as stupid as this.
At least he'd left this world remembering my old, smart and sensitive version, and not the current me: a suicidal, depressive and violent kid. I put on my shoes, combed my hair and left my house with the keys on my hand, trying to push the memory behind. My dog was still sleeping on the floor, so I tried to leave as quietly as I could.
On the street, I tried to ignore the ilegal posters on the walls and fences, which were encouraging the citizens to revolt against a corrupted government and to join "J", the anonymous leader of a rebel group, who was bieng pursued by the authorities. I was actually surprised, I kept finding new posters everyday but never caught any one hanging them. The posters exposed the injustices made by the universal leaders, and how the rebels would "save" all the species from inflation, hunger and wars. I enjoyed mocking the former, since they were the ones starting a war with those exact consequences. Besides, I'd learned during my life as an orphan that, if I wanted to live nicely, the best was to avoid getting into any politic affairs.
When I arrived at the house of my neighbour, I ringed the bell just once and then waited patiently. Despite being on her nineties, lady Magnolia had really acute senses. She always got up early in the morning, so I knew she was already on her kitchen, waiting for my arrival while enjoying a cup of tea and the sight of the dawn. The door opened a few seconds later, letting me see the loving old woman with her short, silver colored hair on a braid, offering me a motherly smile. The lady, for some unknown reason, always made me remember my great-grandfather. Sometimes, I believed that she'd receive me saying "Hi, Melisa! I was thinking about you the other day so I stopped to buy you a caramelized apple", the way Arturo always did when he visited me.
"Good morning, lady Magnolia," I said, merrily, "I'm leaving now, could you take care of the house and my dog while I'm gone?"
"No problem, little one, you can count on me" she raised her thumb "Jotch will have lots of fun today"
"Thank you so much for this!" my words were sincere, and I began to walk away "I'm sure he will!"
The road to school never changed: same people, same street animals, same cars and even the same traffic lights slowing me down. When my father was still alive and he took me and my brothers in the car, the things were usually more diverse. Especially our arrival; too soon or too late. Now, ever since I lived alone, everything had turned into the same vicious circle, but at least I was living just fine. I still had food, my pet, I was able to pay my school, and after a lot of trouble, social services let me kept my house instead of sending me with my uncles. It wasn't easy, but it could be worse, my life could be a total disaster.
***********
I sat at the the back of the classroom, waiting for the classes to start.
"I'm so tired. This is what I hate the most when arriving early to school." said María Andrea, bored, while she toyed with a string of her black hair.
She had a low ponytail, and her little freckles stood out on her vanilla-like skin. Sitting in front me, her black eyes seemed to wait for my answer, and her thin lips showed a tiny smile.
"I know," I answered, equally tired, "Where's the rest?"
She wrinkled her nose and looked away, thoughtful, an habit of hers.
"I think they're outside," she stared at the door, "We should go and look for them."
"I hope they're doing something interesting."
Smiling, we headed to the schoolyard chatting about the oncoming summer vacations. There were three courts in the campus, and three two-story buildings as well for low elementary school, high elementary school and middle school. The buildings had a king blue color that sometimes worked as a camouflage when the sun was set. The school also had a wide variety of flora, a cafeteria with such formal looks that it was impossible for you to feel comfortable during lunch, an office for the psychologist, and a small infirmary. It was an expensive private school for my budget, but I'd started my studies in it, and I intended to finish every schoolar grade it had.
Even if that left me with no money.
During our small tour through the schoolyard, it was impossible to miss the furtive glances of some of my school mates towards me. I sighed, while it was the usual for me, it was still bothersome. They kept looking at me like the "mentally unstable" girl. I'd come back to school nearly two years ago after missing several months to receive psychiatric care. I was terrible affected by the loss of my family, but I managed to fill in my student gap with the help of some of my teachers, who dedicated themselves to teach me the lost lessons during my absence, so I wouldn't lose a year. Nevertheless, my school mates still considered me a weird person. I just ignored them, although I always wondered why they couldn't understad that my tragedy deserved that psychological attention.
To tell the truth, when noticing how intimidated they seemed before me, it was tiring and depressing, especially when their parents were supposed to make them aware of mental health problems, and instead all they were told was that people who came from mental hospitals were violent individuals.
To make the matters worse, I was just like that horrible stereotype, something I felt ashamed to admit.
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