I was at the left end of the class, if you looked at it from the front, I was listening to music with my headphones while I was reading and leaning back, until that blonde-haired girl came up to me. I don’t remember her name, maybe it started with “sa” or something like that, I honestly don’t remember, I just remember that every time I heard her speak I felt like that very day was my burial. It took away all my attachment to life and when I say everything, I mean everything! I wanted to die so much that I wanted to be killed coldly at that very moment.
So much so that I began to wonder, who would really come to visit me on the day of my burial? I guess my friends and my relatives, actually this is pretty obvious, isn’t it? Since I have never had a bad relationship with anyone in these circles. The real question would be who would cry? My parents obviously. I already saw my father cry at the funeral of a family member, it was kind of strange because I was fine, especially the day of the funeral and the following days. I had never seen my father cry before, that was strange, of course everyone has feelings, but I don’t know, it was something I had never seen before, or didn’t like to see.
At the same time, the stupid girl with golden hair wanted me to explain to her a subject on the literature of a certain philosopher who was impotent in the face of life, how could she have such a nerve? She never spoke to me during the whole course, not even to say hello, and now she wanted me to be her teacher. In the end I had to give in, what else could I do, I am one of those people who cannot refuse favors, even if someone stupid asked me to do it.
After 4 endless hours, this pathetic little person managed to understand the scriptures from another pathetic little person, much older. It was horrible. But once done, I went home, without saying goodbye to her, neither of us spoke to each other again since that day, in fact I have no memory of her, in me, except for the day she came to my house. It was a rainy day, very rainy and I found her lying in an alley, wet, on top of cardboard, so I offered her to come to my house, I did not like her, but I am not so despicable as to leave her there. She accepted and we went to my house, she told me her story, the reason for her situation was because her father was an alcholic and her mother died 2 weeks ago, for these reasons she could not stay at home.
When we arrived I told her that she could take a shower, if she wanted to, and that she had the towels next to the cabinet where the razor blades are.
While she was taking a shower, I looked out on the balcony, and sure enough, he was bothering a stray cat, so assiduous was this behavior, it seemed like it would go on forever. That little six year old boy was my entertainment at that moment, he was better than the television without a doubt. After a while, that girl did not come out of the bathroom, I decided to knock on the door, there was no answer. Being a stranger with whom I had spoken twice, it was not to my liking that she was in my bathroom for so long, so I opened the door, taking the consequences, once I opened it I found her dead body lying in my bathtub. He had cut herself with my razor blades.
Today was his funeral and there I was, I was the only person who had shown up at his funeral, none of his relatives showed up, it was the saddest and most depressing funeral I have ever been to, although I have only been to two. This saddened me. Why did I have to be the only person he decided to tie up in his last minutes of life, did he want to traumatize me or did he only have this option. I found out that her name was Esmé.
Once in my apartment I looked out of the balcony, to see if that boy would cheer up my state a little. Unfortunately the boy’s family had recently moved, so I decided to adopt that cat, who was always being bothered by the kid. She was a cat, she settled in the house right away, although she always left the balcony open, because if she didn’t like home life she could leave - she lived on the second floor. But to my surprise she always came back.
I called her Esmé