Читать книгу Narcosis - Francisco Garófalo - Страница 9

The next day they took me to a boarding school claiming that it was best for my education. That was just a pretext. It was a good way for them to get rid of me and simultaneously put some distance between Carla and me, as well as preventing my aunt’s husband from finding out her secret.

They put me in a black van. I looked up at her window. Maybe she was behind the tinted glass watching my departure in tears, bidding me farewell from afar.

I sensed that she loved me. Perhaps it was simply a delusion, a daydream, a hope. A hope that I needed to sustain myself with life. A life I already regarded as lost, but she was the dream, my reason to live, to see her again one day and kiss her lips once more.

We arrived at the boarding school which was not the least bit pleasant. The walls were stained, the floors were in a state and there was a tense atmosphere. Wire mesh fences four metres high and the presence of numerous security guards gave the place the appearance of the prison that in reality it was. A prison for my aspirations, a confinement of my soul, my dreams, my life, my love.

We were received by the headmistress, a woman very advanced in years. She was called Josefina. She was very sour, unpleasant, had never married and therefore had never had children. She didn’t want to admit me to the school because I still did not have my identity card since my birth had never been formally registered. Officially, I had neither a first name nor a surname. My aunt gave her some money and told her to call me “Lorenzo”. The old lady accepted.

We know that problems can always be resolved like that. Those tricky situations. Money is the king of humanity. Of that sick humanity that thinks money solves everything. It buys many things but it will never buy happiness, not true happiness. Money is power and my aunt was demonstrating it.

Once we were inside the boarding school, doña Josefina preached a long sermon at me that seemed like it was never going to end. I pretended to pay attention. She read me the rules of her institution, but I have forgotten them.

They gave me a uniform and I was ready for my first day of lessons with the PE teacher.

Miss Rosa was the youngest of the teachers at just seventeen years of age. She had long legs, raven black hair, honey-coloured eyes and an angelic face. She welcomed me with an enormous smile and hugged me as though we were old friends.

The lessons went smoothly and without incident, so much so that I began to feel at home. That night my classmates got together to prepare a welcome for me. Or so I imagined.

When I went into the dormitory, they all gathered round me. I was scared, I thought they were going to beat me up but no, they just hugged me without saying a single word and went to their beds. I felt good. I thought that finally I had found a good place to live. It wasn’t like that. Things were about to change.