I'm ok, Mum

by Filipa Guimarães (Portugal)

A leap into the unknown Spain

"It's been a week today. The phone is right here. It’s already 8:30 pm there, she might be having dinner". - I'm going to have dinner at Kim’s. Don't worry. There are still people walking around. I don't know what time I’ll get home. Kiss! "Finally some news! I don't remember Kim. I wonder if he lives far from her place". "Oh, I wish I would be there! I would love living in a city like Barcelona, always crowded. If I was her age, I would also do the same: study abroad. But I wouldn’t go by myself, like she’s doing. What’s on TV? Oh, let me put the cell phone here just in case she calls". Back to her new home, she steps into the old wooden stairs, uneven with time, passes the corridor without light, clinging to the handrail. Tries both keys and finally opens the door. As she walks in she thinks about lying on the sofa that doesn’t exist, relaxing in the room that is under construction, opening the window to take a deep breath still warm of mid-September. But there’s something uncomfortable about that place. She lays down on the clean sheets she took from home, the striped blue ones. Closes her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, but hears a noise, as if someone was lightly scraping on the wood. She sits on the bedside to listen carefully. The noise again, now more prolonged. It’s coming from the drawers, for sure. It’s not her imagination! There’s something in that wooden piece of furniture, built into the wall. It’s definitely coming from the drawers. She opens it, points the flashlight and there they are, those bastards. Disgusting. Cockroaches. She immediately closes the drawer with her heart pounding. Escapes to the kitchen, drags a chair, sits down. She doesn’t know what to do. Is she scared or nervous? She stands up, looks down and there it is, another one. Steps on it. No shame or pity. "Crunch!" Quick! She sits down again. Breathes in and the tears fall down. She can't be there. Everywhere else but there. But where to? It’s better to calm down. Absorbed in that silence, she looks at the baseboard of the kitchen cabinet, on the left side, and there it is, another one, the biggest insect she has ever imagined. The carapace is larger than the body, it can’t move, such is the weight. She laughs, thinking about Kafka. Maybe it is all a joke and she is inside the book. Just leave! Just the thought of staying there makes her uncomfortable. Packs a couple of clothes, a toothbrush and cookies and stuffs everything in the same old backpack. Slams the door and doesn't look back. She won’t come back. Ever again. For sure. She is still half stunned, but at least she has already left that place. The whole street is a minefield, she looks everywhere: at the corners, at the side of the road, at the doorways. They are here. She knows it. Her body’s shaking, although it's 30ºC. Tries to focus, but it’s impossible. Frightened to be alone. Frightened that someone will realize she is panicking and homeless. Frightened that someone would know she ran away from home because she couldn't sleep in the same house where cockroaches roam the floor, closets and maybe other things. Looks for a Hotel, but her mind doesn’t cooperate and her heart is too fast to allow any insight and reasonable sense. She doesn’t see anyone trustworthy. I mean, she doesn't trust anyone she sees. The street seems immense and she is tiny and powerless. Going up and down that avenue adorned with high trees. It’s 5 am and the sun has already risen. And with that comes hope. She continues to walk and tiredness has overcome fear. She needs to rest her body and cry. She really just needs to cry. "Oh, I got lost in time. What time is it? I've fallen asleep. I’m sure everything is fine. She still might be at her friend’s place. She has to enjoy every moment of it. I would do the same. She’s 24 and she must enjoy life to the fullest".