A Return, │ Chapter I│English Version.

Good morning community of Steemit I leave my letters so that they like to read them.

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A short story that told of VII chapters, where a girl named Nora, tried to escape reality to reach her perfect dream, but never thought that its perfection would take it to the edge of madness, which would even exceed its limits.

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Chapter I - A return, a silence.

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Awake exhausted, no mood to follow is terrible life, without happiness for something to fight. I hate to wake up and remember this stupid reality that consumes me. How I long to live in a reality without lies, without malice. Cheerful and carefree. But of course. It only happens in those fairy tales that tell any girl.

I will impregnate my cries, my anxieties and my cries for help in these papers. In which I will tell my beautiful story. I know it will pass high, ignored as it has always been in my life.

Single daughter, divorced parents. A carefree parent who is more likely to have wanted a child more. An alcoholic mother who has never overcome her past. A neighborhood where you criticize, torment and despise. A university where everyone hates.
It is of more than many that this is a typical story of an average teenager, but as everyone knows, in order to speak, you have to listen to your own echo.

This last week, it has been the worst of my life. My mother has committed suicide because of depression, the pressure in which she subjected her mind to eating it until it was consumed like a cigarette. He had always seen me as a burden, that my existence had ruined his life. Had not she ruined it herself? What is my load? I did not attend his funeral, he did not want to know anything. Equally if I would attend, I would not return to life. That day I dressed dreamily and I was left alone at home. Why did I get dressed? Nor do I have the answer. Is not it what everyone does?

I started to investigate in his room. Looking for answers about his suicide. In which I find a bottle of sleeping pills. What did it matter? I was exhausted from this uproar, formed by my family. Good. Could it be considered that way? So I took the bottle of pills decisively and went to my room. I turned on my player and placed my favorite violin piece. Danse Macabre by Camille Saints Saëns. I took a pill while I lay in my bed waiting for that drug to take effect. Within a couple of minutes I felt my body relax and weighed. My eyelids closed delicately and finally I succumbed to Morpheus' arms.

That's when everything started.

First Night - Trees.

When I opened my eyes again to realize the reality in which I was. I was in a forest of beautiful trees. It was magnificent, I loved to admire them not only for the majesty of those immense trees. Amazing, I would love to use them once for my studies. In the distance I admired a glorious and voluminous tree that I had never seen. Not even in those books that I loved to study. I continued walking ecstatic for its beauty, observing its leaves was a vermilion color while its outline was a kind of gold. I increased my pace, I wanted to admire that exotic tree as soon as possible. While I was on my way, I admired what was around me. In which a great river passed along my path. Likewise, the closer I got to the tree, the river became more scandalous and impetuous. Although in my vision that tree looked close, it was really far away. My perspective had deceived me.

Between petals and flowers, a colony of monarch butterflies. I laughed at such an act, surely my presence alerted them. An incredible and pleasant phenomenon. Notice that they were heading towards my destiny. I accelerated my step towards the majestic tree. I breathed deeply when I reached my destination, proudly slow down my steps feeling insignificant before that immense tree. I was speechless.

The butterflies I had observed recently perched before its branches. Exhausted I leaned on its trunk for a few minutes leaving me to be carried by the breeze and the moment. I closed my eyes to rest. But without noticing a silhouette appeared before me.

When I raise my eyelids I see a silhouette that I can not distinguish. While my eyes adjusted to the surroundings I could admire a boy of average height. Brown. I noticed his honey-colored eyes watching me. I instinctively ask him: "Who are you?"

A coarse voice answered me. - "Here the question would be: What does someone like you do here and how do you manage to get in?" - Haughtily I answer- "Excuse me? One question is not answered with another, it is discourteous. I was resting on this tree. You could answer me: * Who are you? "- I say, getting up from the floor. He watches me proudly in which he comments. -"My name is…"

Before I say his name, I feel as if I will be short of breath. The sounds go out, I just hear a scream. It was my father's voice. I woke up

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Thank you very much for reading, vote if you like it, be free to give your opinion, criticism, whatever you want, you are the ones who make art grow, not the one who does it, but the one who sees and shares it.
-Jesus M.-