Chapter 1
My name is Lyon, I was born in San Telmo, Buenos Aires, Argentina in 1991, the era of Britny Espears, Nirvana, Tokyo Hotel, Backstreet Boys, among others. As a boy I was very withdrawn and not very sociable. I preferred to spend my afternoons creating stories with my toys, worthy of being a JRR Tolkien trilogy. All my imaginary friends participated in them. In the 2000s, I traded toys for video games, but imaginary friends didn't go away. When I was thirteen years old, my mother, when she saw that those "friends" did not fade away, on the contrary, they became more and more complex, she decided that the best thing would be to take me to a psychologist. I remember little or nothing about him, he was tall and with a bushy beard.
He spent three weeks asking every detail of my friends. They were annoyed to go to the psychologist, they pulled my hair, they yelled in my ear.
The doctor noticed the gestures that I made because of the harassment of those who were supposed to be my colleagues. The psychologist ruled that a more capable mind was required to deal with what he called my little problems.
A week later my mom told me that we would change doctors "that he could cure me because he was a psychiatrist"
A priori I found no difference. Wasn't it the same but with another name? No. The first differences came to light when entering the office. It was totally different from the psychologist's, the other was decorated with murals of animals with lots of color and life, however, this was completely white without decorations, without any detail that will reflect personality.
That man, who if I remember his name Pablo Coleman, was the closest thing to a bamboo cane than a person can be, his gray eyes combined with his entire being even with his lifeless office. He spoke extremely slowly as if his goal was to put me to sleep. Months passed and the pills arrived, here I realized that his objective was clearly to put me to sleep. Those medications were like stun bombs, all my movements slowed down to the point of drooling at mealtime. Over time my friends faded away now they were mere shadows that muttered unintelligible things.
When I could no longer eat without my mother's help, Dr. Coleman recommended to my mother that my life would be better if I was admitted to the sanatorium than the royal one. My mother painted it for me as if it were a hotel, the truth is that it could not be further from reality. My room was a blank canvas without toys without colors without anything that can let the imagination run wild.
When I turned sixteen my existence was a simple saying. Life at the Colman Sanitarium was organized by a routine that followed the schedule to the letter. Despite this, we did not have access to any way of knowing the time, more or less I was guided by the intensity of the light that filtered through the only vent in my room. The day started when the sun was just rising, shortly after the food arrived, a whole wheat bread with boiled milk and a nutritious cocktail of vitamins, iron, potassium and some more that only they knew about. When we finished eating we lined up in front of a brown door and to be honest what was going on inside so far is an enigma to me. I only remember going in and a blinding light hitting my retinas followed by a tremendous prick in my neck and then I dream. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the room. That was my routine, my day to day, that was my existence....
That day seemed ordinary, purposeless like all its predecessors for seven long years. I sat on the bed to wait for the doctors with the medicine cocktail. He had begun to like pills. They silenced that drilling murmur that originated in my head. But that day had dawned in silence. But like a paradoxical act, a female voice broke the hegemony dictated by the implacable silence. It was a delicate but mature tone, he spoke fast and in French.
-Child, listen to me, you don't have time to assimilate this situation but you must trust me, if you want to get out of this blasphemous establishment, listen to me - the French lady exulted and continued speaking.
- No tomeis la pastillas, escondedlas debajo de tu lengua, yo crearé una distracción para que no revisen si te las as tragado - continuó con el plan la dama.
Me sentía aturdido esta ilusión auditiva era muy real, no había tenido una de este calibre en años. Pesé a que todo mi cuerpo me exigía ignorar aquella voz decidí hacer caso a las órdenes de la francesa.
Al entrar aquel enfermero de siempre sin hablar extendí la mano para resivir las medicinas diarias. El hombre río como si de Papá Noel se tratase y exclamó, entre risas y un tono burlon,
- Mierda pero que es ese carácter, ¿amaneció de malas el bastardo favorito del jefe?. Prosiguió pero, ahora, con un tono más serio -Ya deja de joder y tragate las estúpidas pastillas-
Actúe como la voz me lo había exigido y escondí las pastillas debajo de mi lengua. Sabía que si el enfermero revisaba me moleria a golpes. Pero cuando atino a revisar, una sirena estalló en un ruido ensordecedor acompañado de un conjunto de palabras proliferado de los pasillos.
- Pero que estas esperando Monsieur- vosiferero la dama de mi cabeza.
Me levanté, escupi las pastillas y salí corriendo. El pasillo era el infierno en la tierra. Los internos gritaban y corrían para todos lados, mientras los enfermeros picaneban cuanto niño podían. Al llegar al fin del pasillo espere instrucciones de la dama, pero eso no sucedió. Al alzar la mirada vio a tres enfermeros correr aterrador hacia su dirección . Al pasar por su lado simplemente lo ignoraron, sus rostro mostraban tal estado de horror que parecía que no veían la realidad misma. Pense en ir a la dirección que los enfermeros corrieron, sea lo que fuese esa cosa podia aterrar a tres adultos con picanas no tenia la mas mínima intención de descubrir de que se trataba. Sin embargo escuche una vos que pedia ayuda muy débil como si fuese su ultimo aliento. Algo no no me permitía ignorarla e irme, simplemente era como si compartiera su sufrimiento. Avance como si al final del camino me encontrase a mi mismo, es difícil explicar si no lo has sentido antes y muy simple de entender si ya lo has vivido. Mis ojos se abrieron como platos al descubrir que ahí al final del camino solo había una niña mas chica que yo. Simplemente no paraba de llorar sus ojos estaban blancos no tenían iris ni pupila. La joven me miro fijo a mis ojos y una sensación de soledad y angustia invadió mi cuerpo por unos segundos, solo queria terminar ese sufrimiento. En ese momento ella grito con todas sus fuerzas
- LARGATEEEE- todo se puso negro tanto que no podia ver mi propio cuerpo, entonces ahi estridentes voces empezaron a gritar. Todas concluirán sus frases con la palabra "loco". Pero yo no estaba loco eso yo lo sabia no podia hundirme en depresión debía salir de ese calvario. Solo empeze a gritar no es cierto, una y otra vez cada vez mas fuerte hasta que mi garganta se seco al tal punto de escupir sangre. Cuando simplemente me había rendido una luz empezó a expandirse hasta poder ver a la niña otra vez ,me acerqué lo mas que pude hasta tocarle el brazo. Me miro con sus ojos inexpresivo y dijo suavemente
- Como es posible- para luego desmallarse sobre mis piernas. Por alguna razon sentí culpa de abandonar a la niña y como pude la arrastre hasta la salida. Al abrir el gran portón que separaba de mí la grata libertad me encontré con una dama de unos 30 a 40 años esperando impacientemente en el medio de la entrada. Detrás de ella una limusina negra que hacia juego con su indumentaria del mismo color y su sombrero triplicaba el tamaño de su cabeza. Con ellos los acompañaban unos anteojos igual de grandes que tapaban mas de la mitad de su cara. Me dirigió una mirada seguida de una exclamación
- 15 minutes late young Monsieur- he kept sighing while a driver would open the door for him. I couldn't believe it, if she existed, she was ahead of me, the French lady was real. Before being able to assimilate that the voices were not the product of her mind, the lady in black leaned out of the car - Are you waiting for an invitation from the president? - and got back into the limo the driver approached me - I'll take care she come in please
