Just a Narrative
20/03/2024
Just a homework which quality happened to be lightly acceptable. That's the result, nothing like "wooooooow", but maybe it is also not only a waste of time of yours, it actually has the infinitesimal chance to please you a little bit. If it encourages you, at the end of it, I got a question to you if you commit the stupidity of reading it.
Maryanne
The silence between my observation of what was happening and something being done by others about it was unbearable. You must notice that Maryanne was my only friend in the whole world since we had met back in our childhood days, when she took pity on my stupidity, helping me with my homework, exams and this sort of things... I was never much of a student, you know... She, on the other hand, found a pleasure in it that I still don't understand and, judging by what I now know, it must have...
Sorry, that day shook me so much that I can't think clearly many times, specially those that force me to talk about (like this one)... But, no, you need to know, my dears, about my tragedy. Those of you who have a life gained have no idea what it was like to wake up on that cloudy day and have nothing in your mind other than a horrible premonition... In fact, some say that everyone knows when the time has come for certain things.
I arrived on time, as I did every day since I was a living person in this childish system. It barely took a single moment for me to notice her absence. Apparently, there was no one left to care, as everyone continued the course of their futile lives (as I, unfortunately, always did). Don't be like me, under any circumstances; if you tried, I'm sure, your minds would melt and become not much more than my own.
I went to report it to the coordination to know if they could give me any kind of idea of what to do, hoping that, this time, someone would finally listen to my concerns. In this sense, I must say that I was lucky to have an intersection of interest with superiors, as they "cared" about her, even if only to keep her little name on a list of good students. She mattered to me because she was my friend, and nothing more, and I don't say that out of mere romanticism. I wasn't friends with her because of the help she gave me with my exams, but because she never bothered to do it. In other words, my friendship was not of interest, but the result of her kindness in answering mine (something that delighted me), despite not needing it (patience, my dears, I'll get back to the story...)
Surprisingly, my effort was not as wasted as I feared and, after all, they found a way (which, I suppose, must have been extremely simple for them) to contact her parents. Mr. and Mrs. - didn't seem like very friendly people, although, I suppose, they tried the best they could. It wasn't me, but a reception employee, who answered, but I was able to hear; not that it was difficult, as the voice of one of them on the phone was quite tearful (obviously, it wasn't soft). Not even someone with my level of inexpressiveness would maintain a normal tone in a situation like that. Maryanne had been missing since the previous day and, judging by the fact that no one had even seen her, she must have disappeared in the dark shade of the night, when no sound is made.
I was startled by the idea; her parents would have said if it had been the case that she had gone out to a party or something of a similar nature, and in any case, knowing her, I knew that she wasn't much for that sort of thing. I got goosebumps, as the most plausible hypothesis would be that she had left the house herself. Everything pointed to the opposite: she was afraid to do anything at night, knew she would have school (which she rarely missed) early the next day, she would never, neither here nor in China, leave her parents like that... Whether I wanted or not, it was the probable explanation, or rather, the only possible one, disregarding any other explanation of kidnapping, as Mr. and Mrs. - were the type of neurasthenic people who would even pay attention to the sound of a mosquito, in addition to being equally bothered by everyone; therefore, they would certainly know if someone entered their home. Now, although I was very afraid of it, I knew that she wanted to.
The guy put down the phone, looked at me, told me what they said and told me to go to my classroom. I left there, but know, my dears, that the Universe had never played such a cunning and cruel game as on that occasion, that is, it conspired at the same time, for my apparent relief and for my greatest misery. None of the staff were watching the school when I left the room, probably caught up in their stupid conversations that didn't matter to me at all, but which, at the time, were crucial to my partial success, a "success" that revealed to me... No more after a while, I saw the wall, pale and high, and I noticed that it wouldn't be difficult to climb it and go to her house, since I already knew the way by heart, since it was the only place I would torture myself going to, or rather, not exactly the only one...
My small, strengthless body was able to triumph over the wall that kept me within the borders of what now felt like a prison in the face of my doubt. But no, I wouldn't go to her house, for nothing in this world would she do what I thought she had done in her own house; despite the comfort, she should have valued other things more at the moment... It would be impossible for her to think clearly about the state she was in, although I denied it, I knew by the purest logic, and... In short, at the moment, I immediately ran to where my intuition, an old (and commonly failed) ally, which guided me to a place I had long forgotten... Indeed, crypto mnemonia is an interesting phenomenon, but I guarantee that you would never want to have it in that context.
It was, my dears, that since our relationship evolved minimally from a mere academic issue to something greater, however mechanical it was at the time, as, I believe, these friendships started at school tend to be, we used to meet in an environment that curiously attracted our two minds, despite how distinct they were. Nature is a magnet for the most different souls, perhaps it is what remains of the savannah Neanderthal in us, because after all, whenever a rich person has the opportunity, they place sparse, medium-tall trees in their backyard, ideal for hunting an animal of medium size in a more or less arid biome (calm down, you bunch of hasty people, other people's misfortune is always pleasing...)
It was one of those spots where you only take someone whose life is the most miserable when it comes to contact with nature, so horrible that it got to the point of having to go there in the hope of relieving the bucolic instinct. In any case, it was a relatively pleasant corner, with an enviable opening to the sky and a mild summer breeze that reminded me of Shakespearean verses about Adonis and all that peasantry beautifully coming from the mouth of an Olympian. So many good events took place in that little place, but also that... what was it? A confession? Vent? I didn't even know, it's one of the things that become less clear the more you try to clarify them.
Well, my dears, if you immediately ask for an outcome, disregarding all my observations which, I guarantee, will still be useful to you when you happen to be in my place, I will continue. I walked to the corner where we always stayed, because of all the two-square-meter sets in the world, we chose there. Such was my surprise, despite already knowing everything in mind, when I found her lying on the floor, with a bottle in her right hand. Some tears, although dry, still seemed to fall from her sad, bulging eyes in a strange optical illusion. The hours she spent in that state had left some visible marks on her back; gravity had done its work.
In the other hand, there was a small piece of paper, in which was written:
“Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
saith that the world hath ending with thy life.”
Ladhu G., 2024
The question is the following: what is the narrator's gender?
That's it, пока-пока!
