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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Fantasy / Dreams / Wishes
- Published: 04/18/2012
Dreamer
Laughing loudly, unlike me, do you think i'm strange? Unlike you, I am not pretending.
Carlos and I had been friends since as long as I can remember. Every childhood memory somehow features him and though it is consoling it is also painful considering the now circumstances. My story begins in the slums of Buenos Aires, where I was born and where I spent 14 years of my life. Those were the hardest days of my life, or so I thought back then, but things only got harder shortly after my 14th birthday.
I can’t remember the first time I actually met Carlos, but he remembers, he is two years older than me, and he told me that the first time he saw me I was rummaging through the piles of rubbish looking for something, anything to sell. I finally found some old trainers; although they were badly worn out they would still sell for something. As I lifted them out of the garbage piles a bunch of boys, a few older than me, grabbed them off me and then Carlos stepped in and slapped them round on their face and gave those grubby shoes back to me. Ever since that moment we were friends and had gotten closer as time went on. I remember how we used to spend our time talking about how we would one day get out of that horrid place and maybe even move to the other side of the mountain. That was the more respectable part of town and people like us weren’t generally allowed to pass through it, but we could see what it looked like when we were high up on the hills.
One day, when I was 13 years old, me and Carlos were sitting on a hillside and were talking about how we would make some decent money and finally get on with our plan to get out. We discussed it for a while and then decided if we were gonna get anywhere at all we needed at least some money to get to the centre of the city where we would find a job, even the most menial of jobs would be sufficient. We went to the only place we knew at the time, the Pit. The Pit was a huge rubbish pile that would contain all the garbage from the people who lived in the wealthier parts of town, who could actually afford to live in a place which had a garbage disposal system. We would usually find some salvageable things, ranging from trainers, to cutlery. We started digging through and I found an old football shirt, a Barcelona shirt with abregas written on the back, i'm sure the F was scrubbed off. One thing that me and particularly Carlos shared a passion for was football. Nearly all the other kids loved it too, and during world cups the local council would put up a big screen of all the home nation games. Football was an escape for us and we treasured it dearly. Me and Carlos would often go into our local bar and sneak in to watch the games on TV. We both supported Barcelona as ressi played for them and he was an Argentinean player who lived not too far from where we were before he got famous. We greatly admired him and he was one of the best players in the world. I picked up the shirt and quickly stuffed it under my own, I would surprise him with it later.
After around 3 hours of searching we eventually gave up and decided to head back home. We lived illegally on a farm; the farmer allowed us to remain on his property as long as we helped him with his livestock from time to time. He was an aged man with no family of his own but he wanted to still be independent and would rarely ask us to do something. We lived in the field and had made a house of old clothes and weaved grass and tree branches. It was enough for us both.
When we got home and we finished our supper of boiled vegetables that the farmer gave to us, as they were spoiling, I took out the Barca shirt and presented it to Carlos. He was very happy and wore it instantly. Carlos was always very good at playing football himself but he never had enough time to enjoy it fully. He had an old football which he found in the pit and he used some tape to bandage it up, and he would play with it at every given opportunity.
A week after my 14th birthday Carlos and I were walking back home when suddenly a van parked up beside us and a man in a balaclava got out and grabbed me. I started to scream and Carlos tried to help me but it was too late, the man threw me into the back of the van and they took me off. I could hear Carlos shouting and screaming my name. He said he would find me.
The next thing I remember is the pitch black of the back of the van and scuffling of people as they grabbed my throat and put a cloth over my face, then nothing.
When I awoke, I was feeling nauseous, and I had a headache. I was in a room with a soiled mangy old mattress. I could smell vomit, faeces and a chemicalness. I spent a few days in this room; I would find food passed to me from the door, simple food, bread and some soup. Just enough to get by. I was not allowed out of the room and they provided me with a bucket, which was not once emptied.
One morning a man came into the room and said that we were going somewhere, and that I had to look pretty if I wanted to get anywhere. He took me to another room and they gave me new clothes and told me to take a shower. Then they applied makeup on me and pulled my hair back. The man returned, he grabbed my arm and took me away. We went to a large house in the suburbs, the nice part of town. I was seated in a large parlour room on a comfortable velvet sofa and was made to wait. After 30 mins an aged man with salt and pepper hair came in and sat across from me. He took one good look at me and nodded to the men at the door. After that he got up and left. I did not understand fully what was happening but I had an idea. I had previously heard stories of girls getting taken from the slums to be sold on the black market. I was now pretty certain I was going to join that list of stories. I thought of a way to escape and begged for mercy and to be set free. My pleas were ignored, almost as if I wasn’t even there.
A woman in a black hat came by and told me we had to leave. I asked her what was happening but she did not respond. After many attempts I gave up. The woman, by the name of Irena, I heard one or two of the guards calling her that, told me to get into a blacked out SUV and we drove for miles.
They cut my hair, dyed it, and told me I was going to get a new life, a better one, far away from the slums in a far away country. I said I did not want to go and I was happy with my life, I did not need any help from them, but again they ignored me. Irena gave me a fake passport and said I was going to Europe. Europe I thought! That was thousands of miles away, I did not want to leave, I wanted to stay, I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Carlos. Oh Carlos, what must he be going through, would he be looking for me? The thought made my heart ache and I was feeling nauseas.
When we arrived, I discovered I was in Spain, we did not go through any commercial transport, but I could recognise the accents, and the signs had a few Spanish flags on them.
I was taken to a small house with a barn outside, an isolated place far from any other properties. I was told this was to be my new home and that I should be grateful.
When I got inside the house I was received by the same man that came to see me back in Argentina in the mansion in the parlour room. I realised now that he had selected me and approved of me and now I was his.
Many years passed by and you can only imagine the kind of crap that went on in that house. I was not allowed to watch the television or listen to the radio or even read any newspapers. The man, Gustavo, had no guests and spent most of his time at home. He was getting older and he had breathing problems. He would occasionally go into town to buy medicine and other supplies and one day he decided to take me with him as he was not feeling very well that day at all. He needed to go to the doctor but felt he could not do it alone.
When we were at the town square, I saw many people and I wanted to tell them what was happening to me, but Gustavo threatened with such a mighty threat that I did not dare to disobey him. I went obligingly to the doctors. he made me sit in the waiting room as he was called in and told me not to talk to anyone or move anywhere or I would be sorry for it.
When he went I sat quietly on the chair. The receptionist looked over at me and smiled. I did not smile back. A man walked in and sat by me; he looked very agitated and eventually went up to the receptionist and asked if he could turn on the television, which was sitting in the corner of the room. He put it on a football match, Barcelona vs. Valencia. I automatically set my eyes on the screen and was reminded of all the days back in Buenos Aires which were spent watching football. The teams were coming out for the second half when Gustavo came out of the room and told me to get up and go. I was desperate not to miss any of the football so I stared at the screen until we left the building. As I was leaving, I felt a strike of thunder going through me! One of the players looked just like Carlos. I was in shock and stood still for a moment until Gustavo grabbed my arm and scolded me for wasting his time. I was shocked but I dismissed the thought as I was just missing Carlos and I thought it up instead of it actually being him.
As we went home in a cab I stared out of the window trying to take in everything around me, looking for some way out, somewhere I could escape to. The car stopped at red lights and I looked up and, to my amazement, my shock, I saw a poster for a sports brand, with Carlos’ face in the centre!
I could not believe he actually made it! My Carlos, my Carlos had finally gotten his dream! he was a star and I didn’t even know about it! I had to escape now, I just had to, and I knew Carlos was in the same country as me, I just needed to get to him! But how? he played for Barcelona and I was in another city, I didn’t even know the name of. I asked Gustavo in the nicest manner I could, “what is the name of this city, it's very beautiful.” he looked at me, thought about it, and finally replied, “you don’t need to know the name.” I looked at him, dejected, but then I saw his face give in slightly at my sadness. After these many years together there was a tiny part of him that cared for me in some sick way. He gave a great sigh and said, “you heard of Barcelona before?” I replied, "yes." “well, we’re near there, okay?" That was the best news I could have gotten that day.
At night Gustavo went to bed early as he took his pills and they had clearly had an affect on him. I decided to finally do something about my condition, but only one step at a time. Today I would find out more about my surroundings.
I went downstairs and I turned on the TV. I had previously watched it before on occasion, but only some TV serials. I made sure to remember what channel I started off on, 131. I then quickly flicked through all the channels; I don’t know what I was looking for, just anything, really. Anything to give me hope, to give me some information to help me. I found a local news channel; they were filming in the town square, something about a rally for fairer taxes in the local councils. I heard the name of the city, Santanderia. I made a mental note and listened attentively. Nothing else was of any use so I quickly put it back to channel 131 and turned the TV off. I ran back to my room and lay in my bed panting from the fear of being caught and also the thrill of finding Carlos, who was so close.
The next few weeks I spent planning an escape. I had previously thought of doing this but I had nowhere else to go and I knew no one. Also, Gustavo’s health had been failing him greatly and so I waited for him to finally become so ill he could not move, or even to die.
It was a spring morning when I woke up. I had planned to do something drastic today and I did not want to delay it any further. Also, the night before Gustavo had been severely ill and was now finally sleeping thanks to a high dosage of meds. I ran down the stairs and I grabbed my bag with my few belongings in it and I made way for the door. But as I reached the front yard I remembered I left a small bag hidden under the stair cupboard. The bag had money in it, I had slowly, and over time, stolen small amounts from Gustavo and over the years had culminated a decent amount. Enough to get me to Barcelona. I went back for the bag and tried looking for it, but to my shock and horror the bag was not there! I looked under and over the boxes and I could not find it. my heart began to race and I began to panic. what if Gustavo had found out? “Oh, no!” I cried. And just as I got up from kneeling on the ground I felt something touch the back of my head.
“Trying to get away from me? you didn’t think I would let you get away that easy did you?” said Gustavo calmly as he pushed the gun into the back of my head. I turned around and saw him looking straight at me. He was calm but his eyes were menacing. he had known all along what I had been planning. “Thought you could drug me and just walk out of here as though nothing had happened? You must have me fooled with some old senile man. I know exactly what you’ve been up to; sneaking around the place, stealing money from me, I knew this day would come. But one question I just have to ask you is, why now?
“I ... I just, you don’t understand Gustavo, I ...”
“I… I what?! Spit it out girl!"
“I just had enough, I don’t want to stay here with you anymore, I've seen a world out there, and I want to be free, I just want to be FREE!” I screamed the last words.
“You ungrateful little wretch! I took you in from those dirty little slums you called home. I took you in and I fed you, clothed you and gave you a roof over your head! And now you repay me like this!
“You stole me from my home! I did not want to come with you! You bought me. you're nothing but a sad old man who has no one to love him so he has to buy people."
His face shrunk and he lowered the gun, he took a deep sigh and then looked at me. He quickly pulled up the shotgun and smacked me hard across the face with it. I fell to the ground and felt hot blood rushing down my face. This was it, this is how it was going to end for me. No I thought, I can’t let this happen, I have to get out from here, he may have a gun but he is still an old man, I can’t give up this easy, I have to find Carlos still. I thought fast and I grabbed the nearest thing to me, an old oil lantern we used sometimes in the winter when the electricity would go out because of the storms. I grabbed it and swung it as hard as I could right into the old mans head. I heard a thumping crash as the glass shattered around me. I got up and wiped the blood that was dripping down my hair into my eye. I saw him laying there on the ground, motionless. I felt a terrible surge of anxiety, pain and fear run through me as I acknowledged the fact that I may have killed him. I did not stand around for long though and I began to run out of the house. I forgot my bag and I had no money but I did not stop running for hours. I did not dare look back for fear of him chasing me and dragging me back to the house. I had made it out and there was no way I was going back there ever again so I continued to run looking for any other signs of people.
It had been several hours and my head was throbbing with pain and my throat was burning with thirst, but I had finally found a place with a few houses. I slowly walked up to them and as I went for the door, a woman screamed. I turned around to see what she was screaming at and realised, she was screaming at me. She ran up to me and asked me what had happened. I was in too much shock to reply to her and her words were not making any sense to me. She got out her phone and rang someone and then waited with me on the ground as I felt my knees buckle and give way. Everything started going white and then black.
When I awoke I was in a white room with bright fluorescent lights. I looked around and realised it was a hospital room. the woman had helped me. The pain in my head had gone and I felt a bandage over it, I looked at my arms and saw needles in them. Then a nurse walked in and asked me how I was. I told her I was fine. She asked me a few more questions about how I was feeling and then she said the police wanted a word with me. Maybe they found out what I had done to Gustavo, maybe he did die, or maybe he is in this hospital right now and if he knows i'm here too he'll come after me. I began to panic. As soon as the nurse left the room, I pulled the needles out of my arm and got up. I had to get out of here.
I made my way down the hall and knew that if I was going to escape I would need a change of clothes. I walked by a room with staff only written on the front. There might be some clothes in there I thought, so I went in when no one was looking and in there I found papers and clipboards and needles and bandages, but no clothes. I shut the door. I went to look further but on the other side of the door there was a hanging coat, it was long and black, but it would have to do. I grabbed it, put it on, and walked out of there. I still needed some shoes though. I went by some wards with patients who were heavily sedated. I felt very wrong about what I was going to do but I had no other choice. I went by a woman’s bed and next to her were her pair of shoes. They were a size too big but I was not complaining. I put them on and I walked out. I followed the exit signs and I saw some police officers standing at the entrance. I quickly huddled in-between a group of teenagers who were making their way out holding flowers and balloons. I went with them and we left the hospital.
I was out, but did not know where to go from here. I had no money and no idea where I even was. I walked on until I saw a woman getting in her car. I asked her how far the city centre was, she told me Barcelona city centre was twenty minutes away by car. Barcelona! I was closer than I thought. this gave me some hope. I would have to walk there, I was not an exceptional reader but I could figure out with help of the picture the road signs around the city. After a few hours walk I became very tired and my head began to hurt. I sat down on a bench by a small park. I saw children running around the swings laughing and I thought of Carlos and missed him now more than ever.
A bus went by and to my amazement Carlos was on the poster there too, he must be a big star in this city I thought. But in my excitement I also realised that if he was a star it would be a lot harder for me to find him and actually get in contact with him. Just as I gave up hope I saw a young man approach me. He asked if I was ok and I just burst into tears. I didn’t know what else to do. Luckily though he was a kind and caring man and he wanted to help me. I told him I needed to find someone and when I told him it was Carlos Fernandez, he laughed in my face and asked me if I was serious. I told him how we were friends in Argentina and as soon as he would see me he would recognise me. I asked the man what his name was. ”pep” he replied.
Pep told me he would help me but it was a long shot. first of all he said he would buy me some food as I looked very malnourished. I hesitated at first but I was starving and so I agreed as long as it was in public. We went to a small tapas bar in the town centre and I gorged myself on food. All the while pep looked at me as if I was something out of this world. He did not get freaked out by me but instead he just chuckled softly to himself. I told him some more about me and was hesitant to talk about Gustavo so I left out many details about him, particularly how things ended between us.
After eating pep said we could go to the Barcelona training ground which was by far the easiest place we would be able to actually find Carlos and for him to see us. I agreed and we went straight there. We waited outside the training ground for fifteen minutes and then slowly people started to come out. we were not alone though, as there were other fans with the team shirt on and waving books and pens about, screaming as the players were leaving. Some would come up to them and sign their books for them while others completely ignored them. I was just looking for Carlos however, and then I saw him. He was in a tracksuit and he had one headphone in. he looked straight forward and walked past us. I screamed his name but he did not turn around, so I ran across the pavement to follow him but he still did not hear me. He went to the other side and got in his car. I would not let him leave, I demanded of myself. And as he was driving out I threw myself in front of the car.
Luckily the car did not hit me and he stopped just in time, I got up from the ground and people were rushing towards me, some security guards grabbed my arms, but I screamed for Carlos. He looked straight at me and his mouth dropped. He got out of the car as quickly as he could and told the guards to back off. “Julia!” he shouted, I stopped trying to fight the guards and they let go of me. I ran up to Carlos and I grabbed him and sobbed into his shoulder.
I had found him at last.
The guard grabbed me from Carlos anyway and he shot me in the head and killed me and i'm writing this from beyond the grave.
And then I woke up. whoa, what a weird dream, I said to myself. then I got up and went to get dressed into my new Prada clothes that had arrived yesterday. oh my goodness, I thought, I can't believe I dreamt I was poor, gross.
Dreamer(arabella montoya)
Dreamer
Laughing loudly, unlike me, do you think i'm strange? Unlike you, I am not pretending.
Carlos and I had been friends since as long as I can remember. Every childhood memory somehow features him and though it is consoling it is also painful considering the now circumstances. My story begins in the slums of Buenos Aires, where I was born and where I spent 14 years of my life. Those were the hardest days of my life, or so I thought back then, but things only got harder shortly after my 14th birthday.
I can’t remember the first time I actually met Carlos, but he remembers, he is two years older than me, and he told me that the first time he saw me I was rummaging through the piles of rubbish looking for something, anything to sell. I finally found some old trainers; although they were badly worn out they would still sell for something. As I lifted them out of the garbage piles a bunch of boys, a few older than me, grabbed them off me and then Carlos stepped in and slapped them round on their face and gave those grubby shoes back to me. Ever since that moment we were friends and had gotten closer as time went on. I remember how we used to spend our time talking about how we would one day get out of that horrid place and maybe even move to the other side of the mountain. That was the more respectable part of town and people like us weren’t generally allowed to pass through it, but we could see what it looked like when we were high up on the hills.
One day, when I was 13 years old, me and Carlos were sitting on a hillside and were talking about how we would make some decent money and finally get on with our plan to get out. We discussed it for a while and then decided if we were gonna get anywhere at all we needed at least some money to get to the centre of the city where we would find a job, even the most menial of jobs would be sufficient. We went to the only place we knew at the time, the Pit. The Pit was a huge rubbish pile that would contain all the garbage from the people who lived in the wealthier parts of town, who could actually afford to live in a place which had a garbage disposal system. We would usually find some salvageable things, ranging from trainers, to cutlery. We started digging through and I found an old football shirt, a Barcelona shirt with abregas written on the back, i'm sure the F was scrubbed off. One thing that me and particularly Carlos shared a passion for was football. Nearly all the other kids loved it too, and during world cups the local council would put up a big screen of all the home nation games. Football was an escape for us and we treasured it dearly. Me and Carlos would often go into our local bar and sneak in to watch the games on TV. We both supported Barcelona as ressi played for them and he was an Argentinean player who lived not too far from where we were before he got famous. We greatly admired him and he was one of the best players in the world. I picked up the shirt and quickly stuffed it under my own, I would surprise him with it later.
After around 3 hours of searching we eventually gave up and decided to head back home. We lived illegally on a farm; the farmer allowed us to remain on his property as long as we helped him with his livestock from time to time. He was an aged man with no family of his own but he wanted to still be independent and would rarely ask us to do something. We lived in the field and had made a house of old clothes and weaved grass and tree branches. It was enough for us both.
When we got home and we finished our supper of boiled vegetables that the farmer gave to us, as they were spoiling, I took out the Barca shirt and presented it to Carlos. He was very happy and wore it instantly. Carlos was always very good at playing football himself but he never had enough time to enjoy it fully. He had an old football which he found in the pit and he used some tape to bandage it up, and he would play with it at every given opportunity.
A week after my 14th birthday Carlos and I were walking back home when suddenly a van parked up beside us and a man in a balaclava got out and grabbed me. I started to scream and Carlos tried to help me but it was too late, the man threw me into the back of the van and they took me off. I could hear Carlos shouting and screaming my name. He said he would find me.
The next thing I remember is the pitch black of the back of the van and scuffling of people as they grabbed my throat and put a cloth over my face, then nothing.
When I awoke, I was feeling nauseous, and I had a headache. I was in a room with a soiled mangy old mattress. I could smell vomit, faeces and a chemicalness. I spent a few days in this room; I would find food passed to me from the door, simple food, bread and some soup. Just enough to get by. I was not allowed out of the room and they provided me with a bucket, which was not once emptied.
One morning a man came into the room and said that we were going somewhere, and that I had to look pretty if I wanted to get anywhere. He took me to another room and they gave me new clothes and told me to take a shower. Then they applied makeup on me and pulled my hair back. The man returned, he grabbed my arm and took me away. We went to a large house in the suburbs, the nice part of town. I was seated in a large parlour room on a comfortable velvet sofa and was made to wait. After 30 mins an aged man with salt and pepper hair came in and sat across from me. He took one good look at me and nodded to the men at the door. After that he got up and left. I did not understand fully what was happening but I had an idea. I had previously heard stories of girls getting taken from the slums to be sold on the black market. I was now pretty certain I was going to join that list of stories. I thought of a way to escape and begged for mercy and to be set free. My pleas were ignored, almost as if I wasn’t even there.
A woman in a black hat came by and told me we had to leave. I asked her what was happening but she did not respond. After many attempts I gave up. The woman, by the name of Irena, I heard one or two of the guards calling her that, told me to get into a blacked out SUV and we drove for miles.
They cut my hair, dyed it, and told me I was going to get a new life, a better one, far away from the slums in a far away country. I said I did not want to go and I was happy with my life, I did not need any help from them, but again they ignored me. Irena gave me a fake passport and said I was going to Europe. Europe I thought! That was thousands of miles away, I did not want to leave, I wanted to stay, I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Carlos. Oh Carlos, what must he be going through, would he be looking for me? The thought made my heart ache and I was feeling nauseas.
When we arrived, I discovered I was in Spain, we did not go through any commercial transport, but I could recognise the accents, and the signs had a few Spanish flags on them.
I was taken to a small house with a barn outside, an isolated place far from any other properties. I was told this was to be my new home and that I should be grateful.
When I got inside the house I was received by the same man that came to see me back in Argentina in the mansion in the parlour room. I realised now that he had selected me and approved of me and now I was his.
Many years passed by and you can only imagine the kind of crap that went on in that house. I was not allowed to watch the television or listen to the radio or even read any newspapers. The man, Gustavo, had no guests and spent most of his time at home. He was getting older and he had breathing problems. He would occasionally go into town to buy medicine and other supplies and one day he decided to take me with him as he was not feeling very well that day at all. He needed to go to the doctor but felt he could not do it alone.
When we were at the town square, I saw many people and I wanted to tell them what was happening to me, but Gustavo threatened with such a mighty threat that I did not dare to disobey him. I went obligingly to the doctors. he made me sit in the waiting room as he was called in and told me not to talk to anyone or move anywhere or I would be sorry for it.
When he went I sat quietly on the chair. The receptionist looked over at me and smiled. I did not smile back. A man walked in and sat by me; he looked very agitated and eventually went up to the receptionist and asked if he could turn on the television, which was sitting in the corner of the room. He put it on a football match, Barcelona vs. Valencia. I automatically set my eyes on the screen and was reminded of all the days back in Buenos Aires which were spent watching football. The teams were coming out for the second half when Gustavo came out of the room and told me to get up and go. I was desperate not to miss any of the football so I stared at the screen until we left the building. As I was leaving, I felt a strike of thunder going through me! One of the players looked just like Carlos. I was in shock and stood still for a moment until Gustavo grabbed my arm and scolded me for wasting his time. I was shocked but I dismissed the thought as I was just missing Carlos and I thought it up instead of it actually being him.
As we went home in a cab I stared out of the window trying to take in everything around me, looking for some way out, somewhere I could escape to. The car stopped at red lights and I looked up and, to my amazement, my shock, I saw a poster for a sports brand, with Carlos’ face in the centre!
I could not believe he actually made it! My Carlos, my Carlos had finally gotten his dream! he was a star and I didn’t even know about it! I had to escape now, I just had to, and I knew Carlos was in the same country as me, I just needed to get to him! But how? he played for Barcelona and I was in another city, I didn’t even know the name of. I asked Gustavo in the nicest manner I could, “what is the name of this city, it's very beautiful.” he looked at me, thought about it, and finally replied, “you don’t need to know the name.” I looked at him, dejected, but then I saw his face give in slightly at my sadness. After these many years together there was a tiny part of him that cared for me in some sick way. He gave a great sigh and said, “you heard of Barcelona before?” I replied, "yes." “well, we’re near there, okay?" That was the best news I could have gotten that day.
At night Gustavo went to bed early as he took his pills and they had clearly had an affect on him. I decided to finally do something about my condition, but only one step at a time. Today I would find out more about my surroundings.
I went downstairs and I turned on the TV. I had previously watched it before on occasion, but only some TV serials. I made sure to remember what channel I started off on, 131. I then quickly flicked through all the channels; I don’t know what I was looking for, just anything, really. Anything to give me hope, to give me some information to help me. I found a local news channel; they were filming in the town square, something about a rally for fairer taxes in the local councils. I heard the name of the city, Santanderia. I made a mental note and listened attentively. Nothing else was of any use so I quickly put it back to channel 131 and turned the TV off. I ran back to my room and lay in my bed panting from the fear of being caught and also the thrill of finding Carlos, who was so close.
The next few weeks I spent planning an escape. I had previously thought of doing this but I had nowhere else to go and I knew no one. Also, Gustavo’s health had been failing him greatly and so I waited for him to finally become so ill he could not move, or even to die.
It was a spring morning when I woke up. I had planned to do something drastic today and I did not want to delay it any further. Also, the night before Gustavo had been severely ill and was now finally sleeping thanks to a high dosage of meds. I ran down the stairs and I grabbed my bag with my few belongings in it and I made way for the door. But as I reached the front yard I remembered I left a small bag hidden under the stair cupboard. The bag had money in it, I had slowly, and over time, stolen small amounts from Gustavo and over the years had culminated a decent amount. Enough to get me to Barcelona. I went back for the bag and tried looking for it, but to my shock and horror the bag was not there! I looked under and over the boxes and I could not find it. my heart began to race and I began to panic. what if Gustavo had found out? “Oh, no!” I cried. And just as I got up from kneeling on the ground I felt something touch the back of my head.
“Trying to get away from me? you didn’t think I would let you get away that easy did you?” said Gustavo calmly as he pushed the gun into the back of my head. I turned around and saw him looking straight at me. He was calm but his eyes were menacing. he had known all along what I had been planning. “Thought you could drug me and just walk out of here as though nothing had happened? You must have me fooled with some old senile man. I know exactly what you’ve been up to; sneaking around the place, stealing money from me, I knew this day would come. But one question I just have to ask you is, why now?
“I ... I just, you don’t understand Gustavo, I ...”
“I… I what?! Spit it out girl!"
“I just had enough, I don’t want to stay here with you anymore, I've seen a world out there, and I want to be free, I just want to be FREE!” I screamed the last words.
“You ungrateful little wretch! I took you in from those dirty little slums you called home. I took you in and I fed you, clothed you and gave you a roof over your head! And now you repay me like this!
“You stole me from my home! I did not want to come with you! You bought me. you're nothing but a sad old man who has no one to love him so he has to buy people."
His face shrunk and he lowered the gun, he took a deep sigh and then looked at me. He quickly pulled up the shotgun and smacked me hard across the face with it. I fell to the ground and felt hot blood rushing down my face. This was it, this is how it was going to end for me. No I thought, I can’t let this happen, I have to get out from here, he may have a gun but he is still an old man, I can’t give up this easy, I have to find Carlos still. I thought fast and I grabbed the nearest thing to me, an old oil lantern we used sometimes in the winter when the electricity would go out because of the storms. I grabbed it and swung it as hard as I could right into the old mans head. I heard a thumping crash as the glass shattered around me. I got up and wiped the blood that was dripping down my hair into my eye. I saw him laying there on the ground, motionless. I felt a terrible surge of anxiety, pain and fear run through me as I acknowledged the fact that I may have killed him. I did not stand around for long though and I began to run out of the house. I forgot my bag and I had no money but I did not stop running for hours. I did not dare look back for fear of him chasing me and dragging me back to the house. I had made it out and there was no way I was going back there ever again so I continued to run looking for any other signs of people.
It had been several hours and my head was throbbing with pain and my throat was burning with thirst, but I had finally found a place with a few houses. I slowly walked up to them and as I went for the door, a woman screamed. I turned around to see what she was screaming at and realised, she was screaming at me. She ran up to me and asked me what had happened. I was in too much shock to reply to her and her words were not making any sense to me. She got out her phone and rang someone and then waited with me on the ground as I felt my knees buckle and give way. Everything started going white and then black.
When I awoke I was in a white room with bright fluorescent lights. I looked around and realised it was a hospital room. the woman had helped me. The pain in my head had gone and I felt a bandage over it, I looked at my arms and saw needles in them. Then a nurse walked in and asked me how I was. I told her I was fine. She asked me a few more questions about how I was feeling and then she said the police wanted a word with me. Maybe they found out what I had done to Gustavo, maybe he did die, or maybe he is in this hospital right now and if he knows i'm here too he'll come after me. I began to panic. As soon as the nurse left the room, I pulled the needles out of my arm and got up. I had to get out of here.
I made my way down the hall and knew that if I was going to escape I would need a change of clothes. I walked by a room with staff only written on the front. There might be some clothes in there I thought, so I went in when no one was looking and in there I found papers and clipboards and needles and bandages, but no clothes. I shut the door. I went to look further but on the other side of the door there was a hanging coat, it was long and black, but it would have to do. I grabbed it, put it on, and walked out of there. I still needed some shoes though. I went by some wards with patients who were heavily sedated. I felt very wrong about what I was going to do but I had no other choice. I went by a woman’s bed and next to her were her pair of shoes. They were a size too big but I was not complaining. I put them on and I walked out. I followed the exit signs and I saw some police officers standing at the entrance. I quickly huddled in-between a group of teenagers who were making their way out holding flowers and balloons. I went with them and we left the hospital.
I was out, but did not know where to go from here. I had no money and no idea where I even was. I walked on until I saw a woman getting in her car. I asked her how far the city centre was, she told me Barcelona city centre was twenty minutes away by car. Barcelona! I was closer than I thought. this gave me some hope. I would have to walk there, I was not an exceptional reader but I could figure out with help of the picture the road signs around the city. After a few hours walk I became very tired and my head began to hurt. I sat down on a bench by a small park. I saw children running around the swings laughing and I thought of Carlos and missed him now more than ever.
A bus went by and to my amazement Carlos was on the poster there too, he must be a big star in this city I thought. But in my excitement I also realised that if he was a star it would be a lot harder for me to find him and actually get in contact with him. Just as I gave up hope I saw a young man approach me. He asked if I was ok and I just burst into tears. I didn’t know what else to do. Luckily though he was a kind and caring man and he wanted to help me. I told him I needed to find someone and when I told him it was Carlos Fernandez, he laughed in my face and asked me if I was serious. I told him how we were friends in Argentina and as soon as he would see me he would recognise me. I asked the man what his name was. ”pep” he replied.
Pep told me he would help me but it was a long shot. first of all he said he would buy me some food as I looked very malnourished. I hesitated at first but I was starving and so I agreed as long as it was in public. We went to a small tapas bar in the town centre and I gorged myself on food. All the while pep looked at me as if I was something out of this world. He did not get freaked out by me but instead he just chuckled softly to himself. I told him some more about me and was hesitant to talk about Gustavo so I left out many details about him, particularly how things ended between us.
After eating pep said we could go to the Barcelona training ground which was by far the easiest place we would be able to actually find Carlos and for him to see us. I agreed and we went straight there. We waited outside the training ground for fifteen minutes and then slowly people started to come out. we were not alone though, as there were other fans with the team shirt on and waving books and pens about, screaming as the players were leaving. Some would come up to them and sign their books for them while others completely ignored them. I was just looking for Carlos however, and then I saw him. He was in a tracksuit and he had one headphone in. he looked straight forward and walked past us. I screamed his name but he did not turn around, so I ran across the pavement to follow him but he still did not hear me. He went to the other side and got in his car. I would not let him leave, I demanded of myself. And as he was driving out I threw myself in front of the car.
Luckily the car did not hit me and he stopped just in time, I got up from the ground and people were rushing towards me, some security guards grabbed my arms, but I screamed for Carlos. He looked straight at me and his mouth dropped. He got out of the car as quickly as he could and told the guards to back off. “Julia!” he shouted, I stopped trying to fight the guards and they let go of me. I ran up to Carlos and I grabbed him and sobbed into his shoulder.
I had found him at last.
The guard grabbed me from Carlos anyway and he shot me in the head and killed me and i'm writing this from beyond the grave.
And then I woke up. whoa, what a weird dream, I said to myself. then I got up and went to get dressed into my new Prada clothes that had arrived yesterday. oh my goodness, I thought, I can't believe I dreamt I was poor, gross.
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