Pomp and Circumstances

   Every single member of the staff was very nervous. It was well known by them that when the McAllen family decided to visit, it was a trying moment for the hotel and everyone in it. But the McAllen’s were very rich and they knew they could use that kind of clients. Rich people were not coming to the hotel anymore, or maybe to the region… Anyway, not many wealthy heirs and heiresses wanted to visit Lake Flora in the summer. Other vacation spots had become more popular and the lake had lost some of its former splendor. But the McAllen’s were a family of traditions and they had come to the lake every year for sixty years, so they weren’t going to break that custom.

 The day they arrived, every single staff member had to stop whatever it was they were doing and just run to the main hall and line up on either side of the red carpet they had installed exclusively for the event. The other guests, which were not many, had been barred from the main hall and had to use the service elevator in order to get to the their rooms or from there to anywhere else in the hotel. Some of them complained but as none of them were as rich and famous as the McAllen’s, their opinion was not very important. That sounds awful, especially when the hotel always cared about every single guest with care. But this time it was different because the McAllen’s were the difference between a definitive closure of the hotel or their permanence in the business.

 When they arrived, everyone was as still as a statue but that didn’t mean that people weren’t excited or curious. After all, it had been a year since they had been there for their last visit and many staff members had entered the hotel after that so they were really excited about meeting people that were practically royalty. If nobility existed in any way in this country, the McAllen’s would surely be a very important and powerful family, maybe even more that they already were. Arthur McAllen, the main figure, had made his family richer by buying several mines around the world as well as having an almost complete monopoly on several markets such as bananas, sugar and tea.

 He was the first one to come in and every single staff member had to bow as he passed. Mister McAllen seemed overjoyed and the first thing he said to the hotel manager was that the place was as beautiful as he had always remembered. He congratulated everyone and moved on to the main counter. After him, came Lady McAllen. She was a true noblewoman, daughter of a duke from England. Her father owned several newspapers. She walked among the people, greeting some of them. And then came the children. The girl was already a women, very beautiful but visibly very annoyed by the whole concept of spending her holiday in the lake. She rushed over the red carpet and joined her parents fast.

 The young boy that followed him was ecstatic. He looked at everything, greeted some of the staff and asked a kitchen maid if she knew if there were monsters in the lake. She laughed at the comment but the hotel manager gave her a look of disapproval, which stopped her laughter. The last person to come in through the door was the mother of Arthur McAllen. Everyone in the region and the country knew Callista McAllen very well. She had been the wife of a governor that years later became prime minister. And he had been a particularly bad prime minister. Many people said he had died of an illness related to madness but no one was really sure. The truth was every staff member looked at her, interested by her story.

 The older woman crossed the red carpet, oblivious to the preparations for their arrival, getting to her son and demanding him for a bed in order to rest her feet. A waiter gave each one of them lemonade, made with fruit grown in the hotel surroundings, and then several younger bell boys rushed outside and started taking the luggage to the presidential suite. They all signed the guest book and then the manager asked Arthur McAllen if he would like to pose for picture. It was kind of a tradition of the hotel, so the family complied although only the men were happy to do it. The women looked annoyed and tired. So the photographer, who happened to be the groundskeeper, had to do it fast.

 Moments later, everyone was in the presidential suite, their empty luggage in a big closet and all their clothes and belonging in drawers and closets all over the room. The place was very overwhelming, if one wasn’t very used to the golden glow of its walls and the overpowering smell of the perfume used when the maids cleaned up the bedroom and bathroom. It was just too much for every one except for such a wealthy family as the McAllen’s. The women decided to rest and retired to their rooms. The men changed clothes and decided to take a walk. When they arrived to the hall, the red carpet was no longer there or staff members. Everything was back to normal. But they didn’t really pay attention. They just crossed the main doors and went outside.

 Arthur and his son walked towards the lake and there, the father would tell his son several stories about the monster that many had claimed lived beyond the surface of the lake. Some said it had wings, some others said it was like fish but huge in size. Father and son threw stones at the water as they shared stories about the mythical beast. They also explored the woods around the hotel and discovered the place were the lemon trees grew high and mighty. For Arthur, this place brought the best memories from his childhood and he wanted to past that on to his son.

 But his wife and daughter weren’t as happy to be there. The next day, her wife refused to have breakfast in their private dining room, and preferred to eat alone in their bedroom. The daughter wasn’t a much easier person to handle, especially because she did come out of her bedroom. In just a few hours, the staff had come to hate her even more than any other guest in their time there. She was bossy and very rude for such a rich family. She would tell them how to do their chores, even as she had never moved a finger in her life to do anything. And she tired everyone by always saying that her future husband was a commander in the army and he would have the power to improve this lost region and make it productive, instead of just a place for old people to catch some sun.

 But the elderly person in her group would not have agreed. The oldest McAllen was maybe the nastiest and that was because she insisted, every morning in sitting in the main table of the dining hall down in the ground floor. She wanted to seat where her dead husband also sat when he was governor and prime minister. The thing was Callista McAllen had lost it several years ago. Her son was too kind and didn’t want to realize it but she was losing her mind by the minute and she was becoming more and more demanding and rude because of it. She even attempted to hit a waiter on the second day because he had delivered her tea colder than she liked it.

 And the McAllen’s never apologized. The waiter had to leave for the kitchens immediately and he was relocated to another part of the hotel, were he would not be affected by Callista’s insanity. Besides minor incidents like that, everything was going very well with the McAllen’s summer stay. The manager love to do the counts of how much money he would win by the end of the season. He was relieved more than happy because it was not mystery that the hotel was going under: there was not that much money to pay every single person that worked there and attendance had been so low that year that they had even though of closing for some time. That’s why the McAllen’s had to be treated like royals.

 But then one night news from the capital came in and everyone was awoken by the man carrying the letters, because it wasn’t just one but many. He demanded to see Arthur McAllen, who had to be woken up and rushed into the ground floor. There, the man gave him all the letters. And every single one of them told exactly the same story: their neighboring country had attacked a border post and then a whole border town. It was war and the government had demanded for the wealthy to help them in this hour of need. McAllen asked for a pen and paper to write his response, that he was going to give all the money he could to the cause. But the man that had brought the letters stopped him and told him that not only they required his money, but his presence to in the battlefield.

 Everyone in the hall became mute. And it was the first of many silences they would hear for the following years. The war grew larger and more and more lethal. Arthur McAllen would die months later, as well as the commander who was going to marry his daughter. The hotel closed indefinitely the following winter and no one would ever hear about Lake Flore until after the war, when it would become synonym of madness, as the hotel was bought by the ministry of wealth fare and then transformed to an asylum. The McAllen tradition and dynasty died in the war, as the women died of sorrow and the men of war.

Hate crime

   Rose was now terrified to come out of her house. She just couldn’t even think about it without having a serious breakdown. That’s why she had moved with her parents, in order for her to be under their watch every day, at every time. Just after the attack, she had attempted to kill herself in the hospital but she had failed due to the attention of the nurses and that she wasn’t in any real danger. But at home, anything could happen. Her mother was scared the moment Rosa asked if she could help making dinner. At first she would only let her do silly things, like break the leaves out of a lettuce or open a can or a bottle of something. No knives or other pointy objects.

 But after a year, Rose’s state of mind had improved except for her fear of the outside world. Inside, in any day, she would laugh at TV shows, share stories with her dad, gossip with her mom and even talk on her computer with some old friends. Even her former boss was thinking of letting her into the company again, working remotely of course. Because she just couldn’t take a step outside. Instantly she would start screaming and fighting anyone who helped her try some more steps or pulled her back in.

 You see, Rose had been attacked a year ago and she had been left seriously affected by it. Not only was she raped, but she had also being kicked, punched and dragged into a dark corner of the world by two men. It was understandable the amount of fear she had inside and it was remarkable that she had been able to get better, as much as she had been, on her own on such a short amount of time. Other victims took much more time and some never recuperated from their attacks. Rose did because she had always been a fighter but somehow the outside world was now her most dreadful fear. She couldn’t even stare at the windows, day or night. She just thought of it all again, even felt it all again and she did not wanted that to happen ever.

 Her parents understood her situation; after all it had been them who had taken care of her since she was a baby. She had always been such a happy, free kid, the kind that would ask for money and then go alone to the nearby store and buy some candy. She would play with many of her friends in the park, even leading them in many of their games. She had always been the leader, the one people looked at for guidance. It had been like that in school and in college but now there was no trace of that Rose in her. Her fear had finished of that vivacious and strong women for another that was also strong but not so much compared to the past. She had been struck off many things that day and now she couldn’t even have a real life on her own because of her fear.

 She saw Victoria once a week. Victoria was a psychiatrist specialized in this sort of cases and she was very interested in Rose as she was the only patient of hers that had improve so much in some areas and so little in others. With special gadgets and experiments, they would try for Rose to be more acceptant of the exterior world but all of that always resulted in a huge failure. No matter if it was a blindfolded test or a session trying to confront her with the attack, it was always a traumatic experience. Rose trusted Veronica so she would often ask for forgiveness for her behavior but Veronica always hugged her and told Rose never to apologize for what happened or its results. None of that was her fault and she should only be thinking on getting better.

 And Rose did try. She started cooking cupcakes at home, as a therapy to get more and more relaxed. Her boss finally passed her proposal to work from home so she decided to change her life altogether and asked her parents if they would be with her on the creation of a small business selling her cupcakes and other desserts. They started selling for the neighborhood but soon expanded to have a proper store in their garage. This had made Rose very anxious because the store had been a success and many people came in, making her nervous. But her mother and her father helped so she would always be in control of herself, selling her delicious goods and making a life for herself.

 However, she wasn’t going to live alone or anything. Her parents and her had thought of several ways to move out to a small apartment but it was more problems than conveniences. For one, she wouldn’t be able to tend the store from a small apartment, she would be alone most of the time and, most importantly, there was no way to get there without her having a mental meltdown. The thought of blindfolding her or transport her asleep but it was all too complicated. She decided to stay at home and just be creative with her business. A friend from work decided to join her in the business, as the demand had risen dramatically. Her father was in charge of the numbers and her mother of the promotion. It was a truly good family business and that made her happy.

 Her happiness, however, didn’t last for a long time. A man arrived one day to the store and he said he was with the police. Rose and her parents talked to him in the living room and heard some news that left them without words: Rose’s attacker had finally been arrested and they needed for her to identify him. Trying not to panic, Rose started breathing slowly, obviously trying hard not to lose it right there. Her father explained to the men that she wasn’t going to be able to go to the precinct or to any courthouse for that matter. He explained his daughter’s situation and the men said nothing more. He just shook their hands and left. That was a very difficult night for Rose: she didn’t sleep, not even for a couple of minutes. She kept thinking about it and trying not to scream, trying to think about anything else other than the policeman’s visit.

But the police called again and even came back with a lawyer, the attacker’s lawyer. They said that if Rose was not going to be able to go to court and properly accuse him, then they could reach a settlement for compensation or at least bargain in some way. It was Rose’s mother who kicked them out of the house. She yelled at them that they were rats and that they had no shame in coming to a house to tell someone to shut up instead of helping the real victim. When the police called again, they told them they had done it all when she had been attacked, everything had been filed and properly done but the police explained they had to sue him, as they previously had not captured him.

 The family called for help, a brother of Rose’s father who was a lawyer. He helped Rose by making the police release a picture of the man they had in custody. That way, she got to confirm it was one of the men that had attacked her. Yes, because the police thought it had been only one but she knew the other one had stood there, watching, doing nothing at all. For now, Rose’s uncle did everything he could to avoid her the pain of seeing him face to face. The trial’s date was set and for Rose it was a torture to wait until then. Her uncle guaranteed her presence via webcam, having been authorized to do it like that. But Rose wasn’t even sure she could do it that way either. Just thinking about it made her tremble and have goose bumps. Her body ached everyday and she had no energy to make a single cupcake.

 The day of the trial, she cried and almost lost control as she told her story to the jury. The most difficult part of it all was answering the questions; especially those that questioned that things had happened as she said they had happened. Being doubted was the worst feeling, being treated like a crazy person or a liar. She repeated the words the man had said to her and had to be excused for a moment while she collected herself again and waited for the resolution, which didn’t happened until the next day. The trial wasn’t long as the evidence was all against the man. Everyone knew he had lied and had made family and friends lie for him.

 The judge stated that this crime was a hate crime. They had investigated the man further and discovered he had almost beaten her wife to death and had even attacked his own sister after finding out she was a lesbian. The man was sick, letting his hate for everyone that live a nice life driving him to make the most awful things. He was sentenced to life in prison and Rose heard that live, feeling confused. Because she knew that it hadn’t all finished there. Her fear, her panic at the exterior world was still there. What good was this all if was still as scared as before? The fact that her attacker was in jail didn’t make things suddenly better.

 But one thing Veronica and her parents agreed was that they were grateful she was there to live on, to make an effort and keep on living. Because many died and didn’t get the chance to try again, to transform their lives. She couldn’t really consider herself lucky but she had the opportunity of being someone again, in time. She reprised her business, which grew with time. She wanted to be better and knew that someday, she would be able to go the park and just sit there and breathe.

Who We Are

   I don’t believe it. I just can’t. The pure concept of a “community” is, for me, just nonsense. If there were a community, any kind, they would be there to stop all atrocities and crimes from happening. But that’s not the case, is it? This world is rotting at a formidable speed and there’s nothing that can stop it. It’s just the way it is. Is it intentional or did no one see the signs we are just fucked?

 People say, often, that we live better now than others did fifty or a hundred years ago. That is obvious. Any person with half a brain, more than most people use, would know that. But I’m not talking about the comforts of life; I’m talking about people as people. We have gone down the drain and gotten worse with time. Of course, not to wonder much about it as humanity has been capable of killing itself in mass. What comes after that then?

 Yeah, yeah… “Humanity has done great things too”. Well, really? Medicine they say… Well why do you think we advance in medicine if it’s not for lengthening our lives, to be able to be more powerful, more than the bags filled with gas that we are? Medicine does not exist to make life better but to make it longer. The innocent that thinks that vaccines and medications are made to take care of the frail and hopeless, are just too innocent to see what’s really going on.

 So, what comes after we have killed so many of ourselves? Well, hate of course. People hate they are free from xenophobia, free from actual hate, senseless and insane. Well, we’re not. We all hate something or someone. We might not consider ourselves racists, but we still fear the people that oppressed us and those who we oppressed. It’s only natural, after generations that behave like animals. Now it’s us who have to be scared of the world around us, which has gotten more dangerous.

 And why is that, we may ask? Well, precisely because people in the past did so much to prove they were above others. Little stupid groups claiming they were in possession of universal truth, telling people how to live their lives, who to admire, who to loath and even what to eat, how to eat and when to eat it. Sounds insane? That’s because it is. We praise the human brain so much but the truth is our biology is so easy to influence. So much that today it’s not hard to make someone ill, make them have a headache or make them sick to their stomachs. We can even kill someone without using a real weapon. We are weak.

 The interesting thing is that we just won’t admit hoe fucked we are. People are killed all over the place, disease comes and takes a shitload of people and many are still denied the same rights as others. Nevertheless, less important “news”, that aren’t new at all, invade the papers to make us feel fear and hope at the same time. The grand media folk make us love someone and hate others. They just shift the pieces of the puzzle and make up dozens of variations on the same subject. So there’s a little bit for everyone but the truth, the real one, is always lost forever, known to no one, not even to the ones that make her disappear.

 It is true we live better than before. But that is because we have been taught what to think of society and we have learned the model we live by is just the best because they haven’t create a better one. Haven’t they? May there be something better? Who knows? We are in no capacity of knowing that because even the most “perfect” place in the world is deprived of something. And whatever it is, it makes that “community” and incomplete one.

 Take for instance rich people in a rich country. They can buy all they want but any of us know that that’s not very important at the end of the day. No, not because it doesn’t matter. Try to live life without money on this planet. No, it’s more because we don’t really fill our head with riches. We fill it with experiences and those who make us feel better are not specially attached to money.

 Many, for example, seek for love. The one true love. Most people are so enthralled with the idea of “real love” that they don’t even stop to think what that means. How do I feel love? Does it feel the same for everyone? And here’s comes the real news: no, it doesn’t. It is a fact that feelings are chemicals reactions happening in the brain. Rats can feel pleasure if we put some electrodes on it and influence the right area of its brain. Same thing can be done with humans. But feelings are more than that. Why? Because they are stored inside our heads and have consequences beyond the mere experience.

 When we love, hate or feel curiosity, we feel something. But we also create from that. A relationship is made by what you remember and what you don’t. And all of this is classified: this is good, this is bad, and this is weird. We keep it in mind and we use it as words or actions if we need it. Those are still feeling but they have stopped being only chemicals in our bodies. We keep them in there if we need to use them.

And we do. But not in a very good way. Humanity has always been very trivial. We have always, in one way or another, loved staring at shiny objects. Whether those are nice precious stones or a beautiful body, we have always idealized what it is to be human. We have grown as a species thinking we are just the best there is because we can speak and walk and conquer. But what’s the use of all of that if don’t have anything to show for ourselves?

 Yes, the discoveries. We cannot deny some humans have gone beyond themselves to explain certain things and create new objects from what nature has given us. That cannot be denied. But another fact that cannot be denied is the fact that most of us have no idea how to create and we are really not interested in it. We created religion precisely to do that. To explain what we, lazy as we are, won’t or can’t explain. Humanity doesn’t like when something cannot be explained and that’s why so many crazy theories exist. We just need to explain, even if the answer is obviously fabricated.

 Then again, we keep killing each other, just because they decided to lie to themselves with different lies that we did or because they eat differently or dress with other clothes. Or just, and we never admit this, because they live far and looks different. This would mean xenophobia but this is the real reason of many wars that humanity has gone through. Just hate, without sense or consideration.

 We fail to see that biologically we are exactly the same. And we are not special. Other creatures walk and breathe and speak. The fact that we don’t understand them doesn’t mean we are better. I won’t go to saying we are the same psychologically because that is a creation of man to explain what’s inside one’s head. And the explanations, often, are as ridiculous as the explanations the ancients have for why the sun was up there with the moon.

 No, the best we can do in this world is acknowledge that we are different, even unique, inside our heads but that we are all the same outside of them. Of course, this doesn’t bring any peace of mind to anyone but nature rarely cares about that. We are just one species on a small particle of dust in the vast universe. And we fail to realize that daily, we fail to see we don’t really matter in the broader context of time and space.

 This doesn’t mean we should just go in deep depression and die. It means we should really live, like real people would do. Let’s just not get into the lives of others and let’s try to learn from each other’s differences that reside inside our heads. If we took a moment learning about what others do in life and what they think on certain important matters (not politics, of course), we would see how similar we are, even inside our heads. That’s the surprise of it all.

 We are not unique, special or precious. We are flawed, simple and unimportant. But we are here and that’s what really matters.  

Her war

  Alicia had just taken the lives of at least ten men. But she didn't care. She had learned not to care much when it came to do what she had to do. The past had taken the lives of many people she had loved, some way or another. Who cared if even more people were killed now? The world wasn’t one to care no more. And she, Alicia Hall, wasn’t one to feel sorry anymore. She just didn’t care.

 The fight had happened just outside of the many quarantine zones. This one encircled the whole city formerly known as Panama City. As many knew, even then, Panama had been a worthy ally to the Statian cause. So much that, during the attempt of the Confederation to take the south part of the continent, they built a parallel city on the other side of the Panama Canal to ensure their troops were properly supported. They had even built a large nuclear energy complex to feed both cities with electricity.

 But no one predicted a surprise attack; done by the Southies (slang termed the Statians used to call the people living on the other side of the canal) but covered up by the Statians, calling it a “failure” of the energy station. There was an explosion and everyone got evacuated. Many people died, though but no one ever knew about any of them. The place was rapidly turned into an exclusion zone for airplanes and the whole city was barricaded and put into quarantine. The people living beyond it were left to their deeds. In other words, they were left to die to the radiation.

 That had happened almost thirty years ago. The world today was very different: the war had ravaged entire regions. Food was hard to come by and countries were not as important as they had been before. The Statians had been reduced to a mountain range and many others had done the same. Technology existed, of course, but had been improved. All innovation had stopped. Anyway, people were more worried about feeding their families than about anything else.

 Alicia herself remembered her parents and brother often. It was true that she cried every night, thinking of them. She would always remember the day she had been taken from her home by a group of Righties. Righties were people that still believed in the superiority of one race or one group of people. They were loads, as people in fear always trust the wrong folk. They ravaged towns, raped women and killed innocent people, thinking they were Vikings of sorts. They also kidnapped women to be sold as sexual slaves and that’s what had happened to Alicia.

 But she had escaped. After an awful trip across the ocean, she had been sold in New Africa, the center of the Statians country. Strangely enough, the city was located by the sea. It was the commercial center of the country. Nevertheless, most of those folk lived inland, scared of invasion. Alicia then became the slave of a renowned politician and lived in his state for two years. Then, a storm broke out and there was fighting between the Statians. She took her chance and escaped the compound, unseen.

 But the day after, when she got up to a high hill, she realized they were following her. So began a journey of many days, even months, chasing through wilderness of all types to escape her captors. Eventually, they let her flee thinking she would die in the wild but Alicia was better than that. She learned to hunt and gather fruits in the forest. The young woman had even found useful things in more deserted cities: clothing, weapons, water bottles and food.

 The food was the best, by far. People everywhere were starving and there she was, having a whole city for herself, where she could pick up anything she wanted to eat. For example, Alicia had never had a spoonful of ice cream. The first time she had some, she laughed like a little girl and ate a whole bucket of it, tasting of vanilla. The stomachache that followed was awful but she thought it wasn’t a high price to pay for such a delicious treat.

 It was in that deserted city when she first killed. A group of men in military clothes walked in the center of the city and she saw them as they dragged two women along. The women looked foreign, like Alicia. She realized they were slaved. Rage ran through her veins and in that moment, she decided to do something bold. Without giving them the chance to say a word, Alicia penetrated their camp at night and killed the four men, with a couple of knives she had grabbed from a department store.

 When she was finished, the women escaped screaming like mad, looking at her as if she had done something horrible. But she knew she was right. All those men, all those people that thought were better just because they were of some color or lived somewhere, all of them, they had to pay. So, in her time in the city, she killed no less than a hundred men. She had trained herself, alone, to use every single weapon she found. Alicia had a small flat on the top of a small building and, in a case where she kept guns, knives, axes, arrows, grenades and other instruments to kill.

 But it was after some time that she realized she had to move on. Someone would get wise and would come to hunt her. And she didn’t want to give none of those people the satisfaction to do so. So, after gathering her things, she did a tour of various stores to replenish her stash of food and ammo, as well as some technology devices. These didn’t really worked well but she needed a GPS in order to know where to run.

 She wanted bad to go back to her country but she knew that was even more dangerous than facing a buck load of army men. She would have to penetrate the Statians territory and then, somehow, board a boat back the other side. No, that was a stupid idea, filled with things that might go wrong. Instead, after looking on a paper map, she decided that her best choice was to go south, through the old border and beyond.

 At the border, precisely, she met friends for the first time. They were indigenous peoples. Alicia had never seen people so beautifully dressed, not after the devastation of the war. But the indigenous women she met told her, in signs that they wanted to preserve what was theirs. War had torn them apart but they trusted that everything would get better. Alicia wasn’t as optimistic but shared a couple of days with them before continuing south.

 It took her months to cross through jungles and devastated cities. It was incredible to see how many people had survived the war, hiding in forests and going back to the lives lived by their ancestors. They were casual hunters and some had even started to grow food again. Many volcanoes made the soil a good friend but many people ran scared when rain came of when the wind blew to strongly. They talked about La Mancha, some sort of explosion that hey had seen and had destroyed, even more than war, the land were they lived.

La Mancha was no other than the horrible stain floating over the nuclear power plant that had being blown up by the Southies. Alicia heard of the story many times, by many people, on her way to the canal. But she noticed something else too: the more she traveled, the more Statians she saw. Some of them were taken as refugees by the locals but others were in occupation of small territories.

 After crossing lake Nicaragua, Alicia was arrested by one of these Statians. The man called himself a general and said they were retaking these territories “in order to protect them, as only us have the intelligence and power to do so”. They had killed several locals and threatened to turn Alice into a slave, again. But this time she knew better. She faked compliance and started giving them all a private show but when she was almost naked, Alicia took a gun from the general and killed him. Everything turned into chaos but the locals and Alicia prevailed.

 In the midst of the fighting, Alicia realized women where also members of the Statian army. They were not many, but they were there. She realized she had no compassion for them either, thinking of how low they had gotten. They were no different than the men. Alicia realized her struggle was not again the Statians alone; it was against every person that wanted others to do as they said.

 After the skirmish, the young fighter crossed more mountains and forest until she got to the exclusion zone. It was there where she killed ten more army men. She went through several papers they were carrying and realized they had been set to check the plant and retrieve something from it. Dead as they were now, they weren’t going to finish nothing and, hopefully, it would take some time before the Statians knew what had happened to them.

 Alicia then reflected on her being there and realized something: she was alive. She inhaled and exhaled several times and then stood still, as if waiting for something to happen. Nothing. Somehow, she could breath. Was that why those men were there? Then, she heard something she had only heard from afar and in television: a helicopter. It appeared just above her, flew a bit further ahead and landed softly. From the machine came out a gorgeous women, tanned and with short black hair. She neared Alicia and she was surprised by her question.

-       Are you all right?

 The young woman nodded. The woman told her to come with her. She took Alicia’s hand and they both walked towards the helicopter. Once inside, the machine started roaring again and rose above the trees and old buildings. Alicia didn’t say a word but saw the woman besides her give her a smile.

-       My name is Rosa. You might refer us as Southies…

 But Alicia was fainting. Unknown to her, one of the soldier’s bullets had gone straight into her right lung. The last thing she saw, before falling asleep, was Rosa pulling out  a needle from a case and yelling at her. But Alicia couldn’t her a word. She was pretty tired and just let herself go.