Subjectivity of any Catastrophe

Picture by Fefegg (Copyright) for this blog

Day 1
Valentine's Day. I'm in love. His name is Paul and we started dating a month ago. He plays for our highschool's rugby team and is so cute. I would cry his name when walking down the street, I would have his name tattoed on my shoulder, I would write a song for him... Today everything in me is red, from my heart to my underwear.
- Paul, I'm crazy for you!
In this past month we have kissed seventeen times and a half. I love everything in him: his lips, his grey eyes, his muscles, the way he says "whas up?" as if nothing ever happened. He is so sweet, so attentive... so Paul.

Day 2
I hate him. When he saw me, dressed up in red, he just laughed in my face and called me "crazy bitch". I wanted to kill him right there, as he had shown me up in front of Mary Jane and the rest of the cheerleaders. Within a few minutes everyone at highschool had heard about my being laughed at and my popularity rating was falling sharply. Crying my eyes out, I returned home following a crack that had opened all along the street dividing it into two halves. As if the street were a true reflection of my heart, split in two because of stupid Paul.

Day 3
My mother does not give a shit about my drama with Paul. She keeps worrying about Dennis, who did not return home last night. His mobile phone is switched off and she cannot help wondering, if he is OK. But what can I tell you? If you have a stupid brother, what can you expect from him except stupid things? He will show up sooner or later! But mom does not get it: she just keeps screwing me around, as if I did not have my own problems.
Mary Jane and Sarah have avoided me at highschool. I am no longer that popular girl who is worth spending their time with. I am just the laughing stock, the crazy bitch.
As I was returning home after the history lesson, I was surprised to see that the crack in the street was already several inches wide. Small branches seemed to come out of it and ran towards the houses placed on both sides of the street. I came across Sam, the "freak" in my class, a zero in popularity, who told me to mind that crack, as if it were going to eat me up. Earlier freaks did not even dare looking at me, but now they expect me to join their ranks. But they are sadly mistaken if they think I am doing it: my being unpopular does not imply that I am silly.

Day 4
Today I have seen Paul and Mary Jane holding hands in the courtyard. No need to say that my heart missed a beat at that moment. Yes, I have to admit that I still love that fool. And you, Mary Jane, get ready, because sooner or later you will pay for it! And when I was still trying to assimilate this, I was approached by Sam and another two freaks, who asked me if I would join some study group they were organizing. Come on, as if I needed any learning.
My mother called the police. Apparently my brother is not the only one that is missing.
The journalists have occupied the streets and talk to the neighbours while looking sideways at the crack, which is already preventing cars from going along the street. It is already half a metre wide and if you stop on its rim and look down, you can distinguish a shocking green liquid at the bottom whose disgusting smell has started spreading all over the area. The branches of the crack seem to climb up the walls of the houses, giving them a decaying appearance.
My father says that everything has to do with the nuclear cemetery placed 25 kms from the village. For many years uranium has been thrown down there, as if it were a bottomless pit, and all that shit had to go somewhere.

Day 5
Today our classes at school have been cancelled. The mayor has asked us to stay at home until they solve this problem with the crack. The green liquid, which has already reached the surface, runs along the streets destroying everything in its way. Journalists have been replaced by soldiers and tanks. Gunshots can be heard from time to time.
My mother has left home for food and Dennis. I asked her to bring me some nail polish and she yelled at me. She asked how the hell I could be thinking of my nails at this moment. So much fuss for such a silly thing. Was it so hard for her to get me that polish? She was going to the supermarket anyway! She slammed the door when leaving but has not returned. To hell with her, to hell with everyone.

Day 6
Paul called last night.
- Is it Mary Jane?
- No, asshole. It's Donna.
- Oh, sorry! - he said laughing. - Whas up?
- My nail polish is gone and my mother and brother are missing ... And you, how are you?
- Well, just that this curfew is a bore. Some friends and me are meeting at Nico's in a few minutes, are you coming?
After which we heard an annoying bombing that kept us in silence for an eternity. From my room's window, on the first floor, I could see some strange shadows walking down the street.
- Of course, - I said when that deafening noise stopped. - See you there in half an hour.
For some minutes I was the happiest girl in the world. Until I went downstairs and found my father blocking the front door, so as to make sure I was going nowhere.
- Where do you think you are going, girl? - he told me. - This is something serious, don't you see?
Of course it was serious, I was meeting Paul! Despite my tantrum, he did not let me go.
I have tried to phone Paul several times since then, but his phone has no coverage.

Day 7
The bombing has stopped. Our fridge is empty. I found a few cereal bars in my cupboard and shared them with my father. No electricity, no telephone. A trickle of greenish water comes out of the tap and we do not dare drinking it.
At noon, someone has knocked at the front door. My father, who had barred all the doors and windows, did not want to open. But from my window I saw Paul and Mary Jane, who asked me to let them in with gestures. An army of strange green beings seemed to come after them. I made signs to them so that they went towards the kitchen door. I got the door open just enough to let Paul in. Mary Jane was left out.
- Jesus Christ! - she screamed. - Let me go in, Donna!
Who was laughing now, huh? Just a few seconds later we heard her struggling, a stifled cry and that must have been her tragic end. My father came into the kitchen shortly after and asked who the guy was.
- My name is Paul, sir, - he introduced himself. - Whas up?

Day 8
They are trying to get in. Dad is reinforcing the doors and windows with the help of Paul. And I cannot help thinking about Paul's muscles, his grey eyes... and that I am going to die at the age of 15 and being a virgin. I watched the street from my room's window and I got chills just for thinking that these creatures might kill us all. But no matter what they do, there is one thing they can never take away from us: the true love that Paul and I feel for each other.

Day 9
They are inside. I know nothing about my father. Paul crawled upstairs a while ago and begged me to open the door for him. But I was so scared that I completely forgot that he was the love of my life. At that moment, it was only my own survival that mattered. Ignoring his pleas, I nestled in a corner and prayed that God existed and had mercy on me.

Day 10
Sam and his colleagues rescued me a few hours ago. Somehow they have managed to make a weapon which has sent all those creatures back to the hole where they belong.
We are a small number of survivors walking towards the outskirts of town. Sam, who has become a real hero, is leading the group. A while ago he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and I did not hesitate for a moment. I would cry his name when walking down the street, I would have his name tattoed on my shoulder, I would write a song for him... My popularity rating is going up at such a quick pace that I feel a bit dizzy. I'm happy, I'm popular, I'm in love. What more can I ask for?

Spanish version

... and that's the end of the story

A picture by Fefegg (All Rights Reserved) for this blog

Before my granddad was sent to the old people's home, which according to my mother "was the right place for that old bastard", he spent some time living at our place. Every night before going to bed, he came to our room in order to read a story for me and my sister Rebecca. He always brought the same old book with dark covers which seemed to hold an endless number of tales that we listened to as hypnotized. All these stories started with the usual "once upon a time" and ended with the same question that my sister kept repeating night after night.
- ... And that's the end of the story.
- And after that? - Rebecca said with the overwhelming logic of her six years.
Then my granddad, who could not help smiling at this, said goodnight with a kiss, turned off the lights and left humming a fragment of his favourite "zarzuela" (traditional Spanish operetta).
That scene repeated itself for many nights. In fact, this was the only time when peace prevailed at home, because for the rest of the day there were countless arguments between my mother and my father, my father and my granddad, and especially between my granddad and my mother, who dit not stand each other, but had to live together until my grandad's "fraking house" was sold so that he could afford spending the rest of his life at an old people's home "where he would die for once and for all". I was sure that if my mother had stopped for a moment to hear my grandad's stories, her opinion about him would have been very different. But mom never had time for anything or anyone: she spent the whole "fraking day" working in the family business and when arriving home she was always so damned tired that the only thing she could think of was putting Rebecca an me in front of the TV in the hope that we would leave her in peace.
- And after that? - asked my sister to my granddad the day he told us his last story.
- They all lived happily ever after, - he told her as he stood up ready to go to bed.
- And after that? - Rebecca insisted.
To our surprise, after hesitating for a few moments, he sat on the bed again and said that, as that was a very special night, he would continue the story, in which Siegfried, a very brave prince, had just defeated a huge dragon in order to break the spell that had imprisoned his beloved Princess Ludovica in the body of a very ugly witch. After his victory, which would have been impossible without the help of the great wizard named Balgor, a wedding in style was celebrated at the castle of Siegfrid's father, the great King Stephane II.
- As expected, - continued my granddad - the ceremony was attended by top leaders from all over the world. Not in vain, Siegfried, the eldest of three sons, would be the heir of that empire, which, after the defeat of the last of the dragons, could not have but a shiny future thanks to the "enduring freedom" that King Stephane II had succeeded in imposing after many years fighting against all his neighbours.
The celebrations lasted for several days, during which there were many events such as concerts, banquets, outdoor competitions, fancy dress parties... The king, well aware of the extreme happiness of his successor to the throne, went from one place to another greeting people with a wide smile on his face that made him look about ten years younger. However, fate wanted him to witness a terrible scene that revealed the true nature of his daughter-in-law.
Granddad told us that during the last day of celebrations, the old king had a terrible headache that forced him to retire soon. On the way to his chamber, which was in the wing opposite to the ballroom, he happened to go past Princess Ludovica's room, whose door was left ajar for some unknown reason. Attracted by the sound of whispers and some strange laughter, the king opened the door carefully and stuck his head in. He was terribly shocked at the sight of the princess, who was exchanging kisses and caresses with Balgor the wizard. Moreover, without her makeup and costume, the princess was still that same ugly witch who Siegfrid had apparently destroyed by defeating the dragon.
"She has never been a princess imprisoned in a witch's body!" said the king to himself. "She is nothing but a witch disguised as a princess!"
- Oh, nooooooooo! - my sister and I shouted in unison.
My granddad smiled full of satisfaction and continued his story saying that the king, deeply hurt by his discovery, sneaked out of there and went to his chamber, where he was unable to fall asleep. The next morning, after gathering all his courage, he told his beloved son what he had seen. Although he knew he would break his heart, it would be much better than letting that bad woman deceive him. However, the prince was so in love with the witch, that he could not believe a single word of what his father had just told him. He called the old man "old gaga" and fool and would not listen. Ludovica's spell on him was so powerful that poor Siegfrid could not distinguish good from bad any more. After that the father and his son stopped talking to each other and in the years that followed they only met at official events.
With the passing of time king Stephane II grew very very old and Prince Siegfried, who was not the happy young man he used to be but a sad and boring guy, succeeded him on the throne. When their eyes met on the day of the coronation, the old man realized that Siegfried had also discovered the truth about his wife's identity, but his pride had prevented him from admitting this in front of his father. Besides, now that Siegfried and Ludovica were the parents of two beautiful girls, he could not possibly let a divorce leave the girls in the hands of that wicked witch, who thanks to this marriage had become the co-owner of a profitable chain of hairdressing salons.
- Hey! - I said laughing. - The same as mom!
- When she became a queen - my grandfather went on while looking at our room's door, - Ludovica did not stop until she was sure that Siegfried's father, who remained a dangerous influence to her husband in spite of the distance, would be kept away from the castle . Moreover, she did not hesitate to make use of the most dirty tricks to ensure that the poor old man was locked in a lonely tower which would end up consuming him due to the loneliness and sadness. But what she did not know was that before his leaving, Stephane II had managed to let his son know that he still loved him and would accept his doom under the only condition that Siegfried would pay him a visit once in a while and also bring his beloved granddaughters, to whom he used to tell stories the same way as I have been doing... And they all lived happily ever after.
- And after that? - my little sister asked.
- The rest of the story has not been written yet - my grandfather told her as he was leaving the room.
When he opened the door, I had a glimpse of my father, who might have been listening to the story from the corridor. I remember asking myself how many times he had been standing there, hidden behind the door, while our granddad was reading from his book. That night, before falling asleep, I promised myself that some day I would put an end to Siegfried and Ludovica's story. It was not until many years later that I realized that in real life stories never have an ending.

The next day the cab arrived when the sun was right at the top of the blue sky. The king Siegfried put his father's stuff in the trunk and gave him a hug while saying to him something like "I got your message and I will certainly take care of that." Leaning on the castle's main gate, queen Ludovica watched the scene from the distance without saying a single word, just enjoying her victory over that "piece of old junk". And last but not least, the old king held the two princesses in his arms and got on the cab, from where he did a genuine royal greeting that the girls found so funny.
When the cab was just a little dot driving down the stony path, the princesses started crying like babies, so their mother had to put a powerful spell on them which consisted in making them watch some cartoons on TV that made them forget.
Siegfrid, who kept the promise made to his father, took his daughters to the tower on several occasions. But there were neither more stories nor any laughter, because, as mean Ludovica had foreseen, the old man did not but consume himself from visit to visit due to the devastating effect of that evil tower. When they saw him for the last time the old man, who was always holding tight his old black book, was only a shadow of the great king he used to be. He died one cold winter night at the age of 85 years.
Just a few weeks after his death, Sigfried came into her daughters' room one night holding his father's old book. After opening it ceremoniously, he started reading one of its stories. It was not so good as those of King Stephane II, but the girls listened to him with all their attention, grateful for this gesture of their father. Since then, and until they were too old for tales, he kept coming every night in order to tell stories that got better with the passing of time. Especially when he started putting his personal touch, including spacecraft, unexplored planets and "cylons".
Many years later Siegfried gave his eldest daughter this same old book, turning her into the guardian of that small treasure that held countless stories to be told to the next generation of children. When the princess opened it for the first time, she could not avoid a laugh because it was just a simple and boring manual about earthworms. On the first page his grandfather had left a note written with trembling hands:
"One day or another a spell will be cast on all of you. But always make sure the person casting this spell is not an evil witch."
That same night the princess went to his sister Rebecca's taking the book with her and told her little nieces the first of a long list of stories. However, as the first story had to be something special, she did not want to start it with the typical "once upon a time." Inspired by a photo depicting the nasty red worms from California, she said something like:

"Before my granddad was sent to the old people's home, which according to my mother "was the right place for that old bastard", he spent some time living at our place. (...)"

Note: "cylons" and the expression "fraking" have to do with the TV series "Battlestar Galactica".

Spanish Version.