Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta control. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta control. Mostrar todas las entradas

viernes, 25 de agosto de 2017

Recurrent dream

   I like lying on my bed every morning for a while, after I wake up. I clean my eyes and walk around naked for a while around my room, trying to decide what to do next. And what I always do is just lying there, watching the rood or staring at the window. Not that I’m actually using my eyes right there, I instead imagine another world, another place. I do that because, every single morning, I feel this is not my life. I feel my real self is somewhere else, living through something very difficult.

 It often happens that when I dream, I see this man in one room. It’s always the same room. I can see a bridge through the window and there are two beds, very neatly made. Everything is clean and there are also plushies everywhere. The man that I see sitting on one of the beds, the one nearest to the window, is not really the age one would think someone would have if you saw all those plushies and toys and several other stuff. It seems he’s stuck there, in that place, who knows for how long.

 I stared at him for so many nights. The dream was always the same and it would dissolve into my usual slumber after only a few minutes. It never lasted long so I couldn’t really pick up many details. After a while, I trained myself to be more aware of the dreams and try to really look around. The first thing I discovered was a teddy bear and that image stayed with me for long. Last Christmas, I even made the mistake of remembering the bear as if it had been mine, only I never had a bear.

 Oddly enough, my mother told me I almost had one. My grandfather had plans to buy one the day I was born, in order for him to be the first person to ever give me a gift. He wanted to have a strong presence in my life and he had decided a bear, carefully made and wearing a red shirt, would be the way to do it. Sadly, my grandfather had a heart attack some days before my birth, so he never got to buy the bear and I never got to meet him. That was the first time I had heard the story and it gave me chills.

 So, of course, I kept trying to figure out the recurring dream I had been having. But, for months, I was stuck in the same place every time. I saw the bear and then, when I turned my head towards the man, I instantly blacked out and then moved on to another dream. Well, to be honest, the first few times it happened I would wake up in terror, sweating and just too scared to go back to sleep any time soon. Those nightmares gave me dark marks under my eyes but I countered those by choosing to jog at night around my neighborhood, a very quiet place to think.

 I would come back sweaty and tired, ready to go to bed without any disturbance in my head or in my life. But the nuisance was there nevertheless. The dream returned a few days after and I just managed to handle it the best I could. I tried hard to discover anything new but it didn’t go anywhere. So I just decided to play a layback role every time, hoping my unconscious mind would get bored of playing the same dream over and over again. But it didn’t. It kept insisting.

 My parents entrusted me with a very large company, the main one in their corporation. It was started many years before by my grandparents and I just try to keep it going forward. We manage various companies dealing with trade and that makes my job very challenging but very fulfilling at the same time. I have been able to visit half of the world and I have learned so many things, even more than the ones I learned back in college, where I graduated with honors. I had always excelled.

 In my family, every single person trusts me with their lives, their secrets and their money. Every time there’s a problem somewhere, they call me to fix it or at least to call someone else to fix it. Since my high school days I have been connecting with various people around the globe and I have now an enormous network of friends and family in every single corner of the planet. Everywhere my jet lands, I have someone doing a party for me or at least treating me to dinner.

 Maybe it’s the dream, but I have found myself thinking what would my life be like if I hadn’t let this life. I think I would be fine. Maybe not rich but I would like to think that I would be as driven and smart as I am right now. I even think I would be just as much as attractive physically and socially as I am now. I have learned not to be ashamed of myself or of my various assets. I have made efforts in my life so I think it’s ok to let people now I’m very proud of everything I am and what I’ve done.

 That man in the dream seems worried. He’s not very well dressed and, to be honest, he looks bored to death. I cannot really make up his face entirely. I mostly see his body, like a shape, sitting there on the bed. It was a long time after I started having the dreams when I realized the man was actually moving the whole time. He seems to be writing, typing something on a laptop computer in front of him. The night I discover that fact I woke up tremendously excited because there had finally been a breakthrough. Whatever that was, it was going somewhere.

 You may not understand this, but I need to feel I’m always in control. I wouldn’t say I’m a control freak or something that crazy. The thing is I like to understand everything that happens around me, even if I’m not very familiar with whatever it might be. That’s why, when I travel, I try to meet locals and I ask them many questions in order to better understand their culture and their states of mind. It’s a unique way to understand a whole country, in order to do proper business.

 That’s why I cannot stand that I have the same dream every night and I cannot see or get what’s happening. I even got to a psychiatrist in order for him to explain what’s up with my head but he told me it was a pretty normal thing and that, once it resolves itself, it will simply go away as if nothing had ever happened. Normally, I would never doubt a professional but something tells me this is something else, this is maybe something much more powerful and convoluted than I thought.

 Then, Camilla came to my apartment. She does that frequently. Sometimes I go to her place and sometimes she comes to mine. My family has been pushing me to ask her to marry me but I cannot seem to find the time to do it. She’s very beautiful and entertaining, she has even heard every single detail about my dreams and has tried to help me find a solution. But something tells me I shouldn’t make that big step until I solve whatever is going around my head. It feels important.

 The last time she came, however, something changed. The dream happened as always but, when I was supposed to wake up, I finally got to see him. The man actually raised his face towards me and looked at my eyes with his, which were sad, kind of red. Then I woke up. I was sweating again. I got up as silently as I could, walked to the kitchen, and had some water. I was trembling a bit and my breathing was off. I tried to calm myself, trying to remind my mind it had been just a dream.

 I just realized the man I had been seeing in my dreams, for so long, was me. Those eyes were mine, that face was mine. Every detail was a copy of my real self. He looked sad, despaired and hopeless. I felt all of that inside me and I guess that’s what made me shake so much.


 However, what scared me the most was the fact that I got to see, through his eyes, what he was doing on the laptop. It happens he was writing. It was a short story and it was how, every so often, he had a dream about being someone else, having a much better life than the one he had.

lunes, 29 de mayo de 2017

En llamas

   El hombre estaba arrodillado, gritando. El sonido que producía era desgarrador. Las personas que habían estado hasta hace poco caminando y disfrutando de un día de ocio, corrieron a resguardarse a las tiendas y los baños del centro comercial. Cuando el hombre colapsó, cayendo de rodillas sobre el suelo duro del centro comercial, la gente pensó que se trataba de alguien con problemas de salud. Y sí tenían razón, al menos parcialmente pero no era un mal del corazón ni nada parecido.

 El hombre gritaba con fuerza, extendiendo sus manos hacia delante. Parecía como si las hubiese metido en agua hirviendo, pues las tenía rojas y llenas de ampollas blancas. Era horrible ver como sufría pero estaba claro que nadie podía hacer nada. Las personas habían llamado a la policía, a los bomberos y a varias ambulancias pero todo los servicios estaban esperando órdenes porque no creían poder acercarse. La razón para esto era el cadáver carbonizado de dos personas, al lado del individuo.

 Nadie supo bien cómo sucedió, pero cuando el hombre colapsó o poco antes, dos personas que estaban cerca de él empezaron a arder en llamas. Fueron sus gritos los primeros que se oyeron ese día en el centro comercial y la primera alerta a todo el mundo de que estaba sucediendo algo fuera de lo común. Las dos personas ardieron en minutos, quedando solo los huesos negros a los lados del hombre que parecía estar sufriendo un dolor aún mayor que el de quemarse vivo.

 Su cara también se estaba llenando de ampollas y, de un momento a otro, empezó a quitarse la ropa. Obviamente esto se veía demasiado raro y fue entonces cuando las autoridades decidieron que al menos una sola persona debería acercarse y ver que era lo que le pasaba al pobre hombre. Un bombero se lanzó como voluntario. Se vistió con un traje anti-incendios y caminó despacio, para que el hombre pudiera verlo sin problema. Pero este estaba ocupado.

 Se quitó la ropa haciéndola trizas, quedando totalmente desnudo sobre el frío suelo de concreto. Parecía llorar pero las lágrimas se evaporaban al instante, como si cayeran en una sartén hirviendo. El hombre por fin vio al bombero acercarse y fue entonces cuando un temblor generalizado recorrió las columnas de todo los que miraban: el pobre diablo gritó la palabra “Ayúdeme”. Lo había dicho fuerte y claro. Se notaba en su voz un esfuerzo increíble y un dolor que no parecía poderse explicar con palabras. El bombero, asustado, le respondió al rato.

 “Vengo a ayudar”, dijo el bombero. Era muy joven, menor que el hombre que parecía estarse quemando sin fuego a su alrededor. Las ampollas se multiplicaban y el vapor que producían sus lágrimas parecía estar dejándolo ciego. El bombero miró a los lados, contemplando los cadáveres carbonizados. Sabía que una de sus responsabilidades era la de empacar eso restos para procesarlos y eventualmente entregarlos a los familiares para proceder a enterrar o cremar a sus seres queridos.

 ¿Pero como llegar a los restos con el hombre ahí, a la mitad, sufriendo como loco? El bombero se armó de valor y le preguntó al hombre si podía primero llevarse los cuerpos quemados. El hombre no respondió con palabras, sino con un gemido casi inaudible. El bombero lo tomó como una señal y con la mano llamó a dos de sus compañeros, ya listos con camillas. En poco tiempo, recogieron ambos cuerpos y se los llevaron para ser procesados, como tenía que hacerse.

  El bombero joven estaba sudando. No solo por los nervios que había supuesto ese procedimiento, sino porque sentía que estaba cocinándose en su traje. Según su lectura, la temperatura en el sitio era la normal para la hora y el día en el que estaban pero por alguna razón se sentía casi sofocado. Fue entonces cuando miró al hombre que tenía en frente: había puestos sus antebrazos en el suelo para poder echarse al suelo sin tener que sentir dolor por los cientos de ampollas en su manos.

 Fue entonces que el bombero entendió que el calor que sentía no venía del ambiente sino del hombre que tenía en frente. Para probarlo, dio un paso hacia delante, con cuidado de no molestar. En efecto, la temperatura en el traje pareció elevarse de golpe, como cuando se abre un horno y el calor sale en forma de nube. Se sentía muy parecido, excepto que allí no había ningún aparato domestico sino un hombre que parecía común y corriente, a pesar de sus extrañas heridas.

 El bombero volvió hacia atrás y le preguntó al hombre su nombre. No hubo respuesta. Le pidió que le dijera que hacía en la vida, si tenía familia y si sabía que era lo que el estaba pasando. Todavía tenía la cabeza abajo, como si el dolor no lo dejara erguirse. Gemía. Parecía que quería hablar, que de verdad quería responder a las preguntas. Pero no tenía la capacidad de hacerlo, su cuerpo no se lo permitía. El bombero quiso saber como ayudarlo pero prefirió quedarse quieto porque la verdad era que no tenía ni idea de lo que estaba pasando.

 Entonces, el hombre fue elevando su cara. Su respiración tenía un sonido muy raro, como si se hubiera vuelto ronco de un momento a otro. Pero eso no era lo peor. Cuando el bombero vio sus ojos, dejó salir un grito de susto y dio dos pasos hacia atrás, instintivamente. Lo que sea que le estaba pasando a ese hombre no era algo normal. Todo el que vio el momento, y eran millones pues muchos de los clientes apuntaban a la escena con sus cámaras, no entendió que pasaba.

 Los ojos y la boca del hombre parecían haberse ido de su rostro. Pero en cambio, tenía ahora fuego vivo en ambos lugares. De las cuencas de los ojos y de la boca misma le salían llamas de color naranja, amarillo y rojo. Era impresionante, algo jamás visto. Por un momento, el público pensó que había muerto incendiado de adentro para afuera pero, cuando se levantó del suelo, entendieron que de muerto no tenía nada. De hecho, parecía más fuerte que antes.

 El bombero quiso salir corriendo pero se quedó firme en el lugar donde estaba porque no quería asustar al hombre o lo que fuera que tenía enfrente. Abrió la boca pero la cerró casi de inmediato, dándose cuenta de que no sabía que podía preguntar en semejante momento y menos aún si el hombre frente a él le podría responder de alguna manera. En cambio, se miraron el uno al otro, pues ese fuego seguía sintiéndose como ojos, a pesar de que no lo eran en el sentido tradicional.

 De golpe, todo el cuerpo del hombre se encendió en llamas, como si hubiese regado gasolina por todas partes y luego se prendiera con un fosforo. La diferencia estaba en que este hombre parecía seguir vivo bajo las llamas, pues miró a un lado y al otro, a la gente que se escondía de él y finalmente al bombero que tenía frente a él. Era hermoso pero impresionante al mismo tiempo. Estaba claro que era algo nuevo, un evento sin precedentes en la historia humana.

 El hombre se acercó al bombero y le dijo, en una voz cavernosa, que se sentía morir. Pero lo dijo tranquilo, como si las llamas no estuvieran ya cubriendo su cuerpo. Extendió una mano y sobre ella creó fue o usó el que tenía encima, para formar una bola perfecta.


 Pero el truco fue corto. Las llamas empezaron a apagarse, hasta que el hombre quedó como había sido antes, a excepción de alguna ampollas sobre su cuerpo. Cayó al suelo, finalmente muerto, casi sin rastros de que hacía un rato había estado cubierto en llamas.

viernes, 31 de marzo de 2017

Girls

   As far as she was concerned, her boss could just go and die t any moment. That mean fat bastard had always been a bother, making her work more hours just because he wanted it or because he had “special” clients. Those were always his buddies or some rich guys he wanted to be friends with in order to get money from them. It was really pathetic to see how he behaved in front of them, almost like a dog that only wants to please his master. It was pretty sad and disgusting.

 Of course, the currency he had was none other than what he called “his girls”. The fact that they were practically his slaves was obvious because of that awful pet name. He argued that they had all the freedoms just because they could come and go after twelve or more hours of work, but they all knew that he controlled almost every aspect of their life and if they misbehaved in some way, he was prepared to use a secret weapon he had just in case: their secrets and, most importantly, their families.

 All of the girls were from pretty modest families who had no idea they were taking their clothes off for money and sometimes, even more. That last part almost depended on the fat guy, who was the one who decided which one of the clients was worth his while, his “special” attention. However, that didn’t make the girls prostitutes, as they perceived no money from that activity, only for their dancing. And even in that case, the salary was miserable, not being good enough to live with.

 More than once, the girls planned their revenge and escape but it rarely went beyond words. The few times a woman did something to actually free herself from the tyranny of the job, she was them met with the fact that all of her family and friends, and their boyfriends if they had one, were told the truth via anonymous messages. It got even worse sometimes, when actual pictures and even videos were attached to those messages, to further humiliate the girl and make her be ashamed.

 Barbie, however, was not ashamed anymore. She had been there for a long time and, after so long, she had lost all contact with her family and friends. She had another name before entering the night world, she even had a career and the possibility of another life. But when everything went bad on her life, she was desperate and decided to exploit the fact that she had a nice body and attractive looks. The fat guy hired her instantly and now one could say that she was his top prize, always putting her on display like a piece of meat when his big clients came.

 Barbie did dream about another life, going back to her family’s house and hugging her mother. She also had a brother, way younger that her. He wouldn’t recognize him, even if he stared at her for a long time. She felt that life had happened so many years ago and now she was another person. Freedom was nothing that she craved. She knew that what the fat guy did to them was not right but she felt that place was a safe haven for all the girls, from even worse things that happened outside.

 Candy, her best friend in the business, had been raped days after she had decided to leave everything. She was alone, with no money and nothing going on for her, so a disgusting man just took advantage of that. The fat guy himself saved her from further harm and brought her back to the club, where she could be safe. They were rooms there for most of the girls; Barbie was one of the few who were able to leave any time she wanted. That was a special privilege because of her relevance.

 She knew very well how important she was there, in that dark world behind the velvet curtain, so she always tried to push her hand a little bit when the fat guy announced he had “special” clients coming over. Basically, she asked for more money and privileges for doing everything he wanted to be done. If the men wanted sex, she did it but it had to come for a price. That’s how she was able to improve all the girls lives in the club by buying them several things to make it all better like a coffee machine and a dog.

 She refused to live with them all in the club, as she know that been in another place made their realized who was boss there, after the fat guy at least. And none of the girls had problems with that or, at least, they didn’t say much about it. For them, it was much better if one of them had any kind of power. Thanks to that, some of them were able to write their families every so often and even, once every few months, visit them at home. That was a huge improvement from the past.


 But even like that, the girls still had to take their clothes off every day, for more hours than they were getting paid for. Sometimes it was full and some other times the only audience members were a couple of drunks and the waiter. They did more than dancing, making all of them loose all sense of romance, although some of them still thought about a prince charming that would one day come and rescue them from their lives. But Barbie was one that didn’t thought of that anymore. She just lived one day, and then the next, and then the next. It was easier that way.

miércoles, 25 de enero de 2017

Afraid of them

   Each one of them had to be eliminated. There was no point in trying to argue this logic. The fact remained that all of them had been witnessed of something they shouldn’t have and they needed to be killed before they could say a word to anyone. Lucas did a very thorough list where he wrote the name of each person that had seen him move that object with his mind. Every single one of them had to be destroyed unless he considered them to be harmless with that knowledge.

 Actually, he did consider that for a while. After all, it wasn’t like he knew them all personally. All of the opposite, he couldn’t care less about who they were and he did try to convince himself that none of them had seen absolutely anything on that night. But then, someone was stupid enough to tell someone else, maybe as a funny story, and Lucas had to take care of it before it couldn’t expand beyond those two people. His watchful eye had been right then and he concluded it should be a definite answer.

 But, as he planned everything, he thought that probably every single one of those people didn’t really know what they had seen. Maybe they were confused and had decided to deny it or even rejected what their eyes had brought to them because their beliefs did not match any of what was happening with that unique moment in time. It was possible that people weren’t as bad and terrible as he thought they were. But then someone spoke about it and then someone else did and he realized what he had to do.

 A total of one hundred and fifty three people would have to be killed. That was the amount of people that had seen the large explosion he had caused very high in the atmosphere. He had caused that by pushing a bomb that was going to detonate, destroying a whole town. His reaction was to use his mind to push the object as high as he could. That way, the bomb would go off but harming no one. His effort almost caused him to faint but he bomb successfully detonated away from town.

 The problem was that, during that night, the monthly fair of the small town was taking place and, at least, a thousand people were there, eating and enjoying many rides and games. So was he and it was just after winning a plushy on a booth that he discovered the plans of a mad man and had only second to propel the bomb up into the night sky and hope his plan worked. That was why so people had seen his feat and that’s why know he needed to eliminate them all, as they couldn’t be allowed to know what he did, least of all tell anyone else about it.

 For many weeks, he decided to listen to every single person he remembered in the fair. The good thing was that he had a photographic memory and he was able to a complete list of people that had seen the explosion high up in the sky. After that, he followed every single one of them and checked on their lives to see if they had spoken about him at all. This they didn’t know, but he had very good hearing, able to hear a person speaking from many kilometers away, which he used to his advantage.

 He would spend hours hearing what a family talked about during and after dinner. Lucas did that in order to convince himself that maybe some of the people would be able to keep their mouths shut, for the good of the future and because they were afraid to say something out loud that seemed a little bit too crazy. However, that first family finally talked about it almost a week after it had happened. There was no choice in Lucas’s mind. So he entered the house at night and killed them with care.

 The idea was that he didn’t want the police or anyone else to think that someone had silenced those people. Instead, he wanted them to believe that all of these people had died of natural causes. Of course, after the first few, imagination would begin to be much more difficult to harness. But, thankfully, not much of it was needed because no one questioned the first deaths. It was all seen as a coincidence or as tragic ending stories for very happy and, sometimes, very sad stories.

 When he wasn’t doing what he was doing, he punished himself physically for what he did. He did so because it was obvious that he wasn’t killing criminals but all of the other people instead, the good ones, the ones that had families, and something they loved doing and lives that shouldn’t be disruptive of someone who wasn’t able to find another solution for an immediate answer. Lucas blamed himself for not having been able to handle things in a different way, for having to kill.

 Yet, he couldn’t change his plans now that he has started to execute. It wouldn’t make any sense to ignore them and let oust him as what he was. They couldn’t understand what was happening and what had been happening to him since when he was a teenager. Although he had received training, Lucas had never been able to master the complete arts of mind control and everything that had any connection to it. People wouldn’t understand that having those abilities was more of a curse than a blessing. And he couldn’t explain carefully to anyone, it would take much too long.

 Two weeks after his initial decision, only forty-two of the former group was still live. He had killed most of them during their sleep so they could be able to avoid pain and everything related to it. Lucas hated himself every single time he had to do it and would have loved to have a second opinion but there was no one there except him and his plan. He couldn’t be stopped and he honestly regretted that because a good person always wants to be stopped when they do something for the greater good.

 More often than not, the greater good is a way to shield oneself from criticism and understanding. He would have loved all those little children and the adults to understand that he didn’t want to hurt them but that he knew very well, after hearing all of them, that most would like to have his abilities or at least be able to see them in action once more. Once they had seen something so strange, they really wanted to see it again and again, until time came that it made no sense or they decided to be afraid.

 And fear was his number one enemy. Many of them had already planned to speak loud and clear about what they had seen and whom they had seen doing it. Although they felt a little bit of envy, fear was the key in making them move against what had fascinated them at the start. All of those he killed first were that kind of people, thinking they were doing this country a great service by pushing a fellow human into the pool of hungry sharks that was the military or even worse.

No, his powers had to die with him and that was it. He completed his mission almost a year after he had decided that was the only solution. There was no one to recognize that but at least he was in peace, or something close to that, at last. He also decided to never use his powers again, even at home where no one could actually see him. His short run as a powerful man was over. Lucas had so many other things to be worried about and he was glad everything now was on the past.


 But that never actually happened because the death of all those people was on his hands. It doesn’t matter what this intentions were back then, he had killed all of those people in order to protect himself. Every single day, he had to be convinced that what he did was the only choice. But then, months after finishing, a voice appeared in the back of his head and it told him something that he wasn’t expecting: an alternative. His own brain wanted to explain to Lucas how things could have been so different. But at the end of the day, he had to live with what he had learned.