TICK TICK TICK TICK

Here is a short story I wrote in high school

Tick ​​tick tick tick tick tick ...... the alarm is ringing and my mother opens the door , reaches out to the bureau , which is on my left side, she and off. She holds me by the shoulders and leans me forward to get up, when sited on the edge of the bed, she leaves me a minute to bring the container in which my urine remains. (After a while ) she call my brother, he lifts me out of bed, my mother opens the door meanwhile my brother still carry me , on entering the hall last door  he remains holding me with determination, as she removes all my and put me in the tub , with a flick of the wrist my mother turns the knob.

Each drop hits my body, starting with my head and running down to my face, it has been a while since my body does not feel the softness of her touch, the delicacy of his movements and especially the peace that this gives. Who would think something so small become so indispensable. Now, I just think about the tub getting fill and for some reason my mother remember me.

Tick ​​tick tick tick tick tick ...... I open my eyes without any rush, I extend my hand clutched the bureau, which is the right side of my bed and turned off the alarm. I stretch my limbs, I lean forward slightly lifting my head, tired and sleepy, I go to the bathroom as normally I do, I urinate and I am about to take a shower.

On the way to school nothing seems different, same people waiting at the bus stop, same people selling newspapers and I at the side of my mother waiting to get on time. Once in the car I look at a man with a black suit, pale and bald head. He is looking at me and pointing at me, I turn my head back, he is gone.

When we wait for the last traffic light, the pale bald head is just across the street, with a blank expression he still pointing at me, finally the green arrow appears, and my mother turn left.

Tick ​​tick tick tick tick tick ...... the alarm is ringing and my mother opens the door , reaches out to the bureau , which is on my left side, she and off. She holds me by the shoulders and leans me forward to get up, when sited on the edge of the bed, she leaves me a minute to bring the container in which my urine remains. ( After a while ) she call my brother, he lifts me out of bed, my mother opens the door meanwhile my brother still carry me , on entering the hall last door  he remains holding me with determination, as she removes all my and put me in the tub , with a flick of the wrist my mother turns the knob.

The sun is up, its glowing light illuminates my face, sitting in the same chair as always with my wet hair as every morning, I watch through the window, and as usual, the street remains quiet and beyond that, the traffic and bustle of the city continue creating more chaos.

My mother bursts into the room, take a book and leaves, everything has changed, is aggressive, sometimes very explosive, defects of which I was a creditor when I was angry, I don’t blame her, she also got marked, now everywhere she goes, she use sunglasses even in the night, just to cover the scar on her right eye, even with me she wear hem, I know she doesn’t want me to see her crying and even less the guilt that she feels when she everyday sees me.

But I remember that view and I will like to see it again

The only person I talk to now,is the man who pointed me that day. Since then it has been the only person with whom I spoke to.

I know who he is, and he knows that I know

Now I just wait, wait until the alarm never ring again and the bald-head men takes me by the hand.