The Jail

I took two more steps before coming to a halt. I look toward the horizon. Still nothing. I don't sigh, I don’t complain, I don't try to take a break. I keep my neutral expression, and instead, I turn to both sides. Red. Red in the small ridges. Red in the gentle slopes. Red beneath the black of my boots. Red above my head and as far as the eye could see. A crimson painting, a bloody landscape, an oneiric land dressed in passion and death. I bent down and pick up some of the soil. Earth, dust, sand; it seemed like all of them and, at the same time, like none. I let it slip through the darkness of my gloves, along my slender fingers.

“I won’t leave you alone. I mean it.” I told her, leaning on the bed, on top of her, while her eyes got drowned in tears, still visible in the darkened room. I smiled at her, looked at her intently, and layed down on her, close to her short, white, wavy hair, until she stopped crying.

I lift my head. The color emerges from nothingness itself, and yet, there it is. No stars in the sky, no passing clouds, nothing but that dark crimson. I stand up again. My hair, like a black curtain, sways. A wind without wind, a coolness without coolness. I clench my fists and move forward, into the scarlet infinity. An infinity so vast that no matter how long I walk, everything seems the same.

“I’m the lucky one to have you with me,” she said, with that smile that made me feel like there was nothing more beautiful in the world than her, her long, white, wavy hair blowing in the wind, her hands clasped behind her waist, her pale skin standing out against the black of her boots, pants, and fall coat.

I lower my gaze; I feel my chest tighten. Without stopping, I look at my hands. My hands intertwined with hers, on a luminous afternoon, about to dance in the kitchen, her hair falling to her shoulders, her slender figure, still incomplete, yet already beautiful. Time passed, and she became more ethereal, as if from another era, another world, a heaven forgotten even by the years. And so, it seemed as though she was fading more and more, that it was getting lost in the background, like the ghost of what she once was and might yet be.

“Is it really okay?” she said, her head bowed. “For you to be with someone like me? Am I really allowed to this?”

“You’re beautiful, baby.” I said, my hands on her cheeks, feeling her pale waves caress me. “You don’t need permission to be loved, or to love. Not just for being who you are. And you’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

The walk continued without stopping. In the distance, I thought I began to see something.

“I know I’m a problem.” she said, and tears immediately began streaming from her eyes as her voice cracked. “I know I am. I try to think that I’m not a problem to you, but when you say those things, you really hurt me a lot.”

I can’t help but press my lips together slightly. A black structure was beginning to rise on the horizon. Everything else was still red.

“I feel like a doll about to break...” she said, lying in bed. “As if standing up would cause me to break, fall to the floor, and end up in pieces. Am I going to die..?”

Still steady, still stiff, I quicken my pace. Bars, walls, floors and ceilings that looked like they were about to fall but remained standing were there, inexorable, immovable.

“When I’m in your arms, I feel safe. I feel like I’m okay.”

I start running. I don’t care about the red earth, or the enormous jail, or the stares inside.

“Feeling abandoned is something that has become normal for me,” she said, standing on the edge of a black threshold.

I speed up, my eyes filled with tears. Everything plunged into darkness; everything stopped, except for me, in the dark corridors that threatened to freeze my body. At the far end, like the reflection of an angel, she seemed to shine, pale, a black bar around her neck. My chest tightens, and my heart screams. I took two final strides and with two blows I broke the bar, screaming without restraint, the echo rumbling even where no one can see. I caught her before she falls, so fragile, so delicate, almost transparent. My tears won't stop flowing as I look at her. She opens her eyes, slowly, heavily, and smiles.

“You’re here.”