"Silence!" She shouted. She must've been sick of our fighting.
"Sorry Mother,"we said together, yet the glare remained upon her face.
"It is not enough to be sorry! You have no idea what you were about to do! Absolutely no idea!" And then her voice began to tremble and her angry expression changed swiftly to depression. Before we knew it she buried her face in her hands. "Oh, the tragedy!" She kept mumbling between sobs, "If you only knew..."
My brother an I stared at each other in puzzlement. We, in fact, did not know what she meant. We both knew that we weren't supposed to know the word, yet both of us failed to understand the gravity of it, or what made it Fatal. We were only fooling around after all, what could be so troubling about one piece of paper?
Yet ever since Father had to leave she had become very emotional, almost fragile. And I could swear every now and then, when she though nobody could see her, discreet tears would slide down her unhappy face.
We were about to say something in comfort when the door slammed open. As Grandpa came in, mother immediately tried to compose herself, though feeble the attempt. I thought slight fear shaded her face now.
Grandpa walked into the room as calmly as ever. He ignored mu unstable mother and instead approached us. We were nervous about what he would say too, since Father left he had become rather silent. His eyes immediately fixed upon my closed fist. He grabbed my arm and forced my hand open, he quickly snatched the crumbled paper and before either of us could protest, turned his back and strode away.
My brother gave me a nudge whose meaning I could not ignore. I trotted behind Grandpa and as I caught up with him he spun around. I guess he could see the question in my face, for he solemnly spoke,
"About this word," he said pointing at the paper, "I shall say no word."
I stood there, knowing there was no case, and Grandpa walked away.
I went back into the room and in response to my brother's anxious face I just shook my head and climbed into my bed. There wouldn't be much rest tonight, I knew, yet I was desperate for it. Brother turned off the light, but did not move for a while, and even through the darkness I could feel his cold stare. Then he walked towards my bed, not his, and knelt beside me.
"It is no secret," he spoke softly. "That word, the Fatal Word." I gave him only a sleepy grunt in response, but he went on, "I memorized it, I can speak it."
The air suddenly seemed colder and I sat upright to face him.
"What?" I asked incredulously. "Brother just leave it, didn't you see all the fuss Mother made earlier. It must be the Fatal Word for some reason. Just go to sleep."
"No. You're just saying that because you're scared. Well, I may be the youngest, but then I am also the bravest. I'm not afraid of anything."
"I'm not afraid either! I just don't trust what I don't know..." The room fell silent for a while and then I broke the chill between us by asking, "Why are you so interested in it anyways?"
Brother seemed to think twice of it before answering, then he said, "I dunno. I'm just curious I guess. Why should it be unspeakable?" Then he stood up and his expression seemed to change from curiosity to resolution. He spoke in a defiant tone, "I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna say it."
I felt too tired to express actual interest in this new dare my brother was imposing. I simply mumbled, "Give it a rest, please." But he seemed not to hear me.
"D... d... d.... dea," he seemed to be quivering all of a sudden, he shook as if the word was struggling not to come out of him.
"Stop!" I said, but it was too late.
"DEATH!" He managed to utter, and before the word had left his pale lips, his eyes shone with a red glare and he quickly sank into the floor with a ghostly wail. A light mist seemed to cover his still body, and then rapidly diffuse around the dark room.
I gave a scream and dropped next to him. His body was awfully cold. I kept yelling, and ever more violently as I saw my brother's blank expression.
Then, the door burst oped and Grandpa came in. His face was horror stricken as he saw us on the floor. Then Mother came in too, and her scream was even more unbearable than mine. She cried all sorts of incomprehensible things. I could not hear any of it. Panic flooded my insides and nothing made any sense.
I looked up to my mother who was uncontrollable, then to my grandfather who was unmovable, and lastly to my younger brother who was beyond all of us, now part of another world. A world linked to us only through one Fatal Word.
Grandpa walked into the room as calmly as ever. He ignored mu unstable mother and instead approached us. We were nervous about what he would say too, since Father left he had become rather silent. His eyes immediately fixed upon my closed fist. He grabbed my arm and forced my hand open, he quickly snatched the crumbled paper and before either of us could protest, turned his back and strode away.
My brother gave me a nudge whose meaning I could not ignore. I trotted behind Grandpa and as I caught up with him he spun around. I guess he could see the question in my face, for he solemnly spoke,
"About this word," he said pointing at the paper, "I shall say no word."
I stood there, knowing there was no case, and Grandpa walked away.
I went back into the room and in response to my brother's anxious face I just shook my head and climbed into my bed. There wouldn't be much rest tonight, I knew, yet I was desperate for it. Brother turned off the light, but did not move for a while, and even through the darkness I could feel his cold stare. Then he walked towards my bed, not his, and knelt beside me.
"It is no secret," he spoke softly. "That word, the Fatal Word." I gave him only a sleepy grunt in response, but he went on, "I memorized it, I can speak it."
The air suddenly seemed colder and I sat upright to face him.
"What?" I asked incredulously. "Brother just leave it, didn't you see all the fuss Mother made earlier. It must be the Fatal Word for some reason. Just go to sleep."
"No. You're just saying that because you're scared. Well, I may be the youngest, but then I am also the bravest. I'm not afraid of anything."
"I'm not afraid either! I just don't trust what I don't know..." The room fell silent for a while and then I broke the chill between us by asking, "Why are you so interested in it anyways?"
Brother seemed to think twice of it before answering, then he said, "I dunno. I'm just curious I guess. Why should it be unspeakable?" Then he stood up and his expression seemed to change from curiosity to resolution. He spoke in a defiant tone, "I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna say it."
I felt too tired to express actual interest in this new dare my brother was imposing. I simply mumbled, "Give it a rest, please." But he seemed not to hear me.
"D... d... d.... dea," he seemed to be quivering all of a sudden, he shook as if the word was struggling not to come out of him.
"Stop!" I said, but it was too late.
"DEATH!" He managed to utter, and before the word had left his pale lips, his eyes shone with a red glare and he quickly sank into the floor with a ghostly wail. A light mist seemed to cover his still body, and then rapidly diffuse around the dark room.
I gave a scream and dropped next to him. His body was awfully cold. I kept yelling, and ever more violently as I saw my brother's blank expression.
Then, the door burst oped and Grandpa came in. His face was horror stricken as he saw us on the floor. Then Mother came in too, and her scream was even more unbearable than mine. She cried all sorts of incomprehensible things. I could not hear any of it. Panic flooded my insides and nothing made any sense.
I looked up to my mother who was uncontrollable, then to my grandfather who was unmovable, and lastly to my younger brother who was beyond all of us, now part of another world. A world linked to us only through one Fatal Word.
5 comentarios:
si lo pusieras en español....seria mejor
aunque se algo de ingles, nunca me ha gustado la idea de leer algo que no este en mi idioma
saludos
Julian: Es parte de lo que hago, jugar con el lenguaje.. Si no te gusta es por que no lo entiendes, y en ese aspecto croe que tienes mucho que aprender... Cada quien se comunica como le plazca.
uhmmm ok
que pena :(
solo decia que apesar de saber ingles solo me gustaba leer en español
Hace ratos no leía en ingles..
Seria chevere hacer un libro mitad en ingles mitad en español !
No siendo mas..
chao!
What a good story. Is it yours? I’m amazed, I don’t know what is the best thing, if the fact that you’re from Bucaramanga or that you’re 16.
Keep writing. Good Blog!
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