Prision Fear ©

The beginning of everything...

     I never believed both in the loss and in the death as after she pulled the trigger. I understood that death is what makes us more human, more fragile.
As usual, I woke up and it was 8 in the morning and saw the sun through the window in the ceiling of my room. Weak sun, sky slightly cloudy, leaves on the ground, some dries, still with dew drops, and wet earth smell, which ended with the freshness of cold air and receptive. It was another November that began.
     November was a month that I liked enough, it was the end of another entediado and sufocavel year that arrived, so it was the month most waited to me. Not for any particular date. My birthday was in April, had no wife or children, or anything important in November that made him special to me. But still it was the month in which the whole year I waited anxiously.
     In the year before I received the news of the death of my wife, Sarah, I was on a rescue mission to fellow from the USA Army the last Nazi outbreaks in Auschwitz, Poland.
     I was quite familiar with death, I saw every day thousands of people to die of malnutrition. In the concentration camps the prisoners were fed about four grams per day, enough that kept them alive. Many were still eating their own lice that runs throughout the body, as well as grass and leaves that had in a place they called the Way of Death. It was a lucky find a green leaf.
     Death was something usual for a federal delegate called for a war that came to the horror of human history. The death of my wife, was the worst in the history of my life. Something that antidepressants, psychotherapy and time - ah, the time - didn't helped me to overcome.
End a turbulent and stormy year, because back home and feel the sadness in each environment, with the absence of Sarah, was the crucial thing for a new beginning.
     Crucial, less Greta.
     Greta was the girl that I was getting months after coming home. It was a natural blonde in the clear tone changed according to your state and environment. - It was wet or was bright place for example - green eyes too light, that when put under me, I wanted to hide me, a sweeping smile that came from his mouth often with a pink lipstick and a charming smile, and his voice fascinated me every time she spoke. His speech was almost and quite sexy whisper, that did shake all my flesh when she smiled slowly and said my name. Nick...
     With these characteristics of a perfect stereotype, you might be wondering just be fiction of a great author in one of his works, but believe, she exists. I met her when I went to a cafe to do some reporting of some cases that restart my career of federal delegate, perhaps the most important of my life.
     I sat in front her, and we were face to face. Rolled a few looks, nothing else. She not was accompanied, something that was quite strange for that kind of place and for being a lady. When she got up to go to the bathroom, I left on your desk a note: "— Another minute and I'll go crazy ... ". Then from there we talked more and we maintain a relationship.
I was not accompanied too, sometimes feel alone and I talk about something with my own book notes. I really liked her after we get involved.
     We don't lasted long. I could not to do it with the memory of Sarah, but while it lasted was hallucinate. We fucked like two hungry, seemed two teenagers.
     I was focused for the resumption of my federal delegate career and the first case after the license was a case of a disappearance in a prison for the criminally insane. The missing is Lay Alerk. Tonight is my shipment to the island. I've a miserable headache, but I waited for this moment anxiously, I also hope solve this case that will be huge. Wait just to meet my ghoulish assistant in the next chapter.

Niccolas Lenon, November 1, 1964.