Intro.
Ela acendeu outro cigarro...o quarto nos últimos 15 minutos. Sua franja estava grudada na testa, encharcada de suor, mais provavelmente por causa do calor do
Rio...ou talvez ela só estivesse nervosa...
1.
Eu me levantei. A meio caminho do banheiro, eu parei e soltei um suspiro. Dor. Entrei no banheiro e me vi no espelho. "Horrível", eu pensei.Tinha lama no meu
rosto, minha maquiagem estava toda borrada e o meu curto cabelo ruivo, agora pintado de preto, estava cheio de sujeira e gravetos.
"Nossa, que selvagem", eu disse alto, apesar de estar sozinha naquele quarto rídiculo do albergue. Ok, o lugar era legal, se tu fosse algum mochileiro de 20
e poucos anos passeando na América do Sul...
Eu era alguém com 20 e poucos anos. Mas longe de estar passando férias no ensolarado e extremamente quente Rio de Janeiro.
Minha franja tava grudada na minha testa, encharcada de suor e, enquanto eu olhava pra baixo, tentando esquecer a dor, eu percebi que a minha camiseta preta
tava rasgada em duas. "Hmmm, você tá sexy, Claire", eu murmurei, olhando para aquele ser humano horroroso no espelho.
Eu.
Ouvi passos no corredor. Meio segundo depois Nichole entrou, seu longo cabelo castanho escuro balançando atrás dela. Eu apostei que ela estava prestes a me
contar tudo sobre o encontro com Anthony e como eles trocaram loooongos olhares, mas, no minuto que ela me viu, seu largo sorriso se transformou numa careta.
"Claire?Que diabos aconteceu contigo? Não, não, espeeeera..." ela disse, quase rindo.
"O quê, Nichy", eu disse, sem nenhuma animação
"Eu aposto que você fez sexo selvagem a tarde inteira, hein, sua safada?"
"Bem que eu queria", eu resmunguei, revirando os olhos. Nichole imediatamente percebeu que algo estava muito errado. Eu sentia que ela estava decepcionada
porque geralmente eu ria das piadas estúpidas dela. Mas não dessa vez.Não havia motivo pra rir.
Eu sentei na cama de solteiro perto da janela e ela fez o mesmo, sentando do meu lado.
"Ah droga, o que aconteceu, Claire?"
"Não posso contar"
"Por que?"
"Simplesmente não posso. Pelo menos não agora."
"Tá bom.Você tá um lixo. Vem, baaaanho", ela disse, enquanto agarrava minha mão esquerda e tentava me arrastar pro banheiro. Eu ofereci alguma resistência e
ela me puxou, provavelmente achando que eu estava de brincadeira. Mas não, eu não estava. Quando me dei conta, estava ajoelhada no chão. Tudo ficou escuro.
Eu desmaiei.
-----------------
Comecei a escrever isso em 2006, quando eu não tinha nada melhor pra fazer, hehehe.
A maioria dos personagens são baseados em pessoas que eu conheço e, apesar da maioria da trama ser ficção, algumas coisas realmente aconteceram, adicionadas com algumas mudanças pra caberem na estória.
quarta-feira, 17 de dezembro de 2008
Spy Story Part I
Intro.
She lit another fag...the 4th one in the past 15 minutes...her fringe was soaked with sweat…most probably because of Rio’s weather…or maybe…she was just nervous…
1.
I stood up. Halfway across the bathroom I stopped and sighed. Pain. I entered the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. “Awful”, I thought. I had mud on my face, my make up was totally ruined, and my now dyed black short red hair was full of dirt and twigs.
“I look rather wild”, I said out loud, though I was alone in that lousy hostel room. Ok, the place was nice, if you are a 20 something year old backpacking in South America…
I was a 20 something. But far from having a nice vacation in sunny, scorching hot Rio.
My fringe was stuck in my forehead, soaked with sweat, and, as I looked down, trying to forget the pain, I noticed that my black t-shirt was torn in two. “ Hmmm, you look sexy, Claire”, I muttered, while staring at that horrid human being in the mirror. Me.
Then I heard footsteps in the corridor. Half a second later Nichole came in, her long, straight dark brown hair swishing behind her.
I bet she was about to tell all about her meeting Anthony and how they exchanged long stares, but, the minute she saw me, her face expression changed from a ear to ear smile into a frown.
“Claire? What the fuck happened to you? No, no waaaaait a minute” she said, almost laughing.
“What, Nichy”, I said, without any excitement
“I bet you had wild sex the entire afternoon, eh, naughty girl?”
“I wish”, I mumbled, slowly rolling my eyes. Nichole immediately noticed that something was wrong, very wrong. I could tell she was a bit disappointed. Usually I would laugh at her stupid jokes. But not this time. There was no point in laughing.
I sat in the single bed next to the window, and she did the same, right beside me.
“Oh goddamnit, What happened C.?”
“Can’t tell”
“Why?” , she said, like a whiny child.
“I just can’t. At least not now.”
“Alriiight. You look like a mess. C’mon,showeeer”, she said, while grabbing my left hand and trying to drag me to the bathroom. I offered some resistance, and she pulled me, probably thinking I was kidding. But I was not. Next thing I knew I was kneeling on the floor. And all went dark. I fainted.
------------------------
I started writing this in 2006, I think, when I had nothing better todo, tee hee.
Most of the charatcers are based in people I know, and although most of the plot is fiction, there are some things that actually happened, added sometimes with a slight twist to fit the story
She lit another fag...the 4th one in the past 15 minutes...her fringe was soaked with sweat…most probably because of Rio’s weather…or maybe…she was just nervous…
1.
I stood up. Halfway across the bathroom I stopped and sighed. Pain. I entered the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. “Awful”, I thought. I had mud on my face, my make up was totally ruined, and my now dyed black short red hair was full of dirt and twigs.
“I look rather wild”, I said out loud, though I was alone in that lousy hostel room. Ok, the place was nice, if you are a 20 something year old backpacking in South America…
I was a 20 something. But far from having a nice vacation in sunny, scorching hot Rio.
My fringe was stuck in my forehead, soaked with sweat, and, as I looked down, trying to forget the pain, I noticed that my black t-shirt was torn in two. “ Hmmm, you look sexy, Claire”, I muttered, while staring at that horrid human being in the mirror. Me.
Then I heard footsteps in the corridor. Half a second later Nichole came in, her long, straight dark brown hair swishing behind her.
I bet she was about to tell all about her meeting Anthony and how they exchanged long stares, but, the minute she saw me, her face expression changed from a ear to ear smile into a frown.
“Claire? What the fuck happened to you? No, no waaaaait a minute” she said, almost laughing.
“What, Nichy”, I said, without any excitement
“I bet you had wild sex the entire afternoon, eh, naughty girl?”
“I wish”, I mumbled, slowly rolling my eyes. Nichole immediately noticed that something was wrong, very wrong. I could tell she was a bit disappointed. Usually I would laugh at her stupid jokes. But not this time. There was no point in laughing.
I sat in the single bed next to the window, and she did the same, right beside me.
“Oh goddamnit, What happened C.?”
“Can’t tell”
“Why?” , she said, like a whiny child.
“I just can’t. At least not now.”
“Alriiight. You look like a mess. C’mon,showeeer”, she said, while grabbing my left hand and trying to drag me to the bathroom. I offered some resistance, and she pulled me, probably thinking I was kidding. But I was not. Next thing I knew I was kneeling on the floor. And all went dark. I fainted.
------------------------
I started writing this in 2006, I think, when I had nothing better todo, tee hee.
Most of the charatcers are based in people I know, and although most of the plot is fiction, there are some things that actually happened, added sometimes with a slight twist to fit the story
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