Staging # 5: The End of the United At last I got inspired to re-write, what emotion ... This time is another 100% drama, based on a story told to me by my older sister when I was about 8 or 9 years, and that gave me so much pain that I wanted to write XD I remember now. So yes, because after ten years, my memory fails a little, I had to invent some things and changed some other, so the thing is 50 and 50 with what was and what forced him to be.
This story I have no idea who owns, because my sister told me ten years ago approx. I do not know if he invented it (as was done with the stories they told me) or if removed from somewhere, in any way transformed it by 70%. Whatever. Enjoy.
"See, see, open your mouth, my prince. So, look, "aaaah" ... EHEA, see? Do you see that is not so bad? Ya, another one, which is half of the soup yet ...
The son smiled through her lips mature, showing their teeth and making uneven smiling mother with him. The minutes passed quickly, and the mother's heart shuddered when he saw the clock read 13:00. He coughed, trying to distance his face as much as possible of the child.
- Are we going to brush our teeth ...? I put the watch face that looks ugly. Come, come, we brush our teeth and then we left to go, okay?
The mother took the great hand of the child through his arms crossed, while down the stairs carefully. He coughed again, his hands crimson paint thinner, which trembled like his legs, the son, smiling and waving to neighbors of the apartment who were walking, and the mother smiled tenderly, seeing increased exponentially soon the number of neighbors and the son she had. The eyes of Dona Milerna and their clients began to perch on them with forced smiles, while resting on a bench in the square with their hairstyles bulky, probably commenting on how difficult it would be for the mother to raise a child all alone jerk for so many years. The mother turned around, letting the child to say hello to them no more to talk about. Coughed again. And the son turned to her, expressionless, gazing with eyes of a child trapped in adult face.
reaching its floor, the mother walked deliberately passing on the accounts under the door, unwilling to even have to remember them. He looked at his watch and turned to shake a shiver down the back: 14:45. He took a deep breath.
"Yes, my prince. Now I'm going to swim to make it pretty well. Today we will see his daddy, so you have to be well groomed.
The mother bathed the child with an air of ritual. Cut your nails and hair after drying, carefully watching that none would be lost in your neck firm or his broad shoulders. He looked his best suit and dressed, while the child was smiling with his mouth agape, watching his mother to strive to find the perfect tie for that dress that had once belonged to the father.
- Do you dream, my prince? "He asked to hear him yawn. - Want to sleep a bit while waiting for dad?
-Do ... dommmir ... "Stammered the son in reply, and she went to bed.
"Sleep no more, my prince. I wake up when her daddy.
Minutes later, the mother sat at the dinner table, opposite the entrance principal, in his best suit. He would sit and wait. Looked at the clock for the last time: 16:15. There were only 45 minutes, and the mother's chest pressed against her father's photograph, taken from his grave the day before. In his tired eyes began to blur images, and the mother took both hands to her face and sobbed in despair, seeing the bills under the door, the eviction order on the table and the other herbs on a plate of soup, which had advised Mrs. Mirta to end it all at once; coughing whenever spraying Masy hands with his life, warm red that fell through his fingers.
17:00. The mother knew without having to see the clock, then felt a terrible noise coming from the fourth child. He turned from black face and white hair neatly brushed, heading for the room, forgetting her own discomfort and trying to ignore the weakness of his legs and difficulty breathing.
Even knowing what would be the mother could not help but kneel beside the child, like leaving dying to see it end up convulsing with half his body out of bed, shedding his tears on his face purple, and placing her knees on the white foam that came out of the mouth mature uneven teeth.
Doña Milerna, the home and truck, however, testified to hearing a woman cry heartbreaking and long before discovering the bodies.
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That's all. A little cebollento, I know, for something I said I was sorry when my sister told me, although I'm not sure you have known to raise the drama of the way I wanted, nor whether it was indeed sad and shit happened to ... whatever, the thing is that I post something after millennia of not writing anything, right?
XD Oh, and before it returns to ask me: "QUIT THE SILENCE" = COMMENT! XD
Au revoir.
