That night was terrible. Because of an act of nature, I was forced out of my dwelling. For the last few months I had been living in a small place that, although not luxurious, was comfortable enough to call home. I liked spending hours and hours there, listening to the sounds of silence with my eyes closed, enjoying my solitude. Being alone with my thoughts was worlds apart from the crowded situations I had lived earlier in my life, during which I could swear I was always surrounded by millions of individuals. The quietness inspired me. In this new home the ground trembled from time to time for reasons I still cannot explain, but I had grown used to it and it didn’t frighten me. Although I used to be alone, I always had the feeling that there was something or someone out there looking after me. It certainly did not feel that way that night, however, when the walls that used to muffle the outside noise so well started to collapse behind me, literally pushing me out into the chaos.
It happened so fast that my mind repressed most of the incident immediately, but I still get flashbacks from distinct moments that make me grab hold to the sheets. I remember being covered in blood, out in the cold, screaming out of despair. I wanted to go back into my home but they wouldn’t let me. The place was gone; it had been changed forever. My eyes burned and everything was blurry; I didn’t know what to do. I was surrounded by voices and hands that pushed and pulled me around. Someone cleaned the blood from my forehead and put a cloth around me. I don’t know if it was real, but for a moment I felt the presence of the thing that had always been looking after me and I understood that everything was going to be fine. After that, my body shut down and I lost consciousness.
I woke up still disoriented who knows how much time later and I found myself laying on my back. My eyes still burned because I could not get used to the damn whiteness that surrounded me. Someone had come and tied me from my left arm. I had done nothing wrong and felt that I didn’t deserve to be treated like a prisoner, but I could not utter a word to complain or demand an explanation. Gathering the little strength that I had, I started trying to free my wrist from the foreign constraint wrapped around it, but I was weak and the task seemed impossible. I did not give up, however, finally breaking loose after much time. In the background I heard people talking words that would take me many years to understand:
“That’s the second identification wristband we’ve put on him”, said one of them. “It’s hard to believe he was born a few hours ago. Look at him go”.
“That’s my grandson”, a deeper voice spoke proudly. “He will go far in life, you see; he is symbolically breaking all his restraints”.
Hugo R. Vargas
