The silence of the strings..

part 13

"13"

George was sitting in the shower of his dark, broken-hearted body, and time was bearing down on him with tragedies, and he looked at the wall, of which all that remained was rotten paint with the blood of innocents that had been stained on them, including me, and he held in his hand, which had been torn apart by time, a strand of hair from his lover, Maria, who is Hope.
His eyes are rosy, and his sleepy eyelids are dyed red with tears. The tears fell on him and he cried all of them last night, leaving him with a splitting gray on his features between colors and softness, as if I were on the edge of the mountains surrounded by seas and winds whipping me to the point of drowning, and I do not know my fate as They were survivors or incapacitated.
Then the jailer opened the door with his annoying voice and told him while he was eating the ham sandwiches, saying, "Congratulations to you, my friend. Today you are free. You have been released from this filthy place." He pointed with his hands toward the door, smiling, and continued saying, "Go with me." George looks at him silently, without smiling. He gets up and goes out with him, and the jailer is amazed at his cold reaction.

Teresa opens her bright green eyes toward the window in the morning to find the sky filled with rainbows. She looks with pain at the dark rainbow of her life, despite the colors that fill the sky. Then she turns to her sister who is deep in sleep, and smiles at her sister's appearance as she sleeps, then approaches him, kisses his eyelids softly, and walks away. With quiet lines towards her mother and father's room, she finds them, like flower branches when they grow up, embracing each other and drowning in their love's nightgown, smiling at their beautiful sight.

The rain is pouring in abundance, the night is dark, dark clouds pervade the American sky, the lightning is dead, and the deafening thunder has a monk's voice...

Maria sat in front of the window that was covered with tears of rain, drinking the smoke and looking at the mysterious clouds that betrayed her cold past, his knowledge and the burning of his longing, and the questions that were impossible to ignore, and she blew smoke, but the smoke of her unknown longing had its owner ignite the fire, so she spoke to herself. It is strange what the wise say: *The past is a treasure. Our present* But they do not know that the past is sometimes our guardian. We are unable to know it and erase our existence in the past, so we are like a child when he is born who does not know what is happening or what is happening. He just lives with the circumstances without knowing his past or his guardian, or like a mysterious boat, a path deep in the sinking sea.

He knocked on the door and Maria turned to the door and said, "Who is knocking?" She replied, "It is me, Madam Maria. May I come in?" Maria answered with a hysterical laugh, "Go ahead." The nurse came in, smiling, and told him, "I apologize, ma'am, for disturbing you, but I'm gone. My shift is over. Do you want something from me before I go?" Maria replied with a laugh, "Yes, I want to talk to you." The nurse smiled and sat in a chair opposite Maria and said, "Come on, Madam Maria, I am listening to you."

So Maria sat down, took the last cigarette from the pack, lit it, and asked her, "First, introduce yourself to me?" The nurse replied, "My name is Jane George, of German origins, and I have worked here as a nurse for 9 years, and I am 36 years old, and this is all about me, and tell me about you?" Then Maria looked at her sharply and blew the smoke and said, "That's all, then, but I see a lot in your eyes, as if you have a painful past filled with sorrows and traces that are very clear in your eyes." Then Jane smiled and said, "No right." Then Maria silently got up to the bed and inhaled the smoke. She blows her nose while lying on the bed and says, "Can you, Jane, talk about your past if I don't mind? You can trust me." She remains silent and inhales the smoke, urging Jane to take the cigarette and extinguish it. Jane gets up and takes the cigarette from him, so that Maria looks at her and She blows what's left of the smoke on Jane's face, and says, "I am amnesiac. I don't remember anything, I don't know anything about myself, and I don't even know who I am," and she laughs hysterically, and Jane looks at him with a slight smile, takes the cigarette from him, and puts it out in an ashtray, finding it full. With cigarettes, Jane gets angry and says, "Are you serious? What are all these cigarettes? Are you making yourself crazy? You should stop drinking cigarettes, as it is bad for your health." Maria laughed in a loud hysterical way, saying, "Ha, ha, ha, ha, how funny and nice you are." Oh Jane, my health has been damaged by the damned time and life has been exhausting.

Then Maria turned to support her hand and continued saying, "What do you expect from a girl who has been exhausted by thinking too much about himself? Who is she? A girl drowned between the present and the past? And who is the child that I always dream about while I embrace her and call her Teresa? Who is she? My longing for her ignites my heart and soul." As if it were a piece of me? And I had the feeling that he was my daughter. Then she became silent and turned, leaning on her back, taking the drawing out of her pocket and giving it to Jane, and continuing by saying, "This is the one that brings me back in my dreams and reality. Then she became silent, and I was surprised and they burst into tears, and Shakit screamed." Who am I? Who am I? And how much I hate myself and how much I hate my sister who caused this to me and because she left me at a time when I needed her, but all I had was the wall of the damned mental hospital. She left me there for long years, alone, suffering, and now it appears and says ( I am your sister, Stephanie, my love. Are you okay, my beautiful sister? Aha, aha, oh, I apologize to you. The circumstances of life forced me to leave you alone.) Fuck, fuck you, my sister, and now she wants me to return to the damned place that is filled with crazy people. She thinks I am crazy and treats me as crazy, no, no, no, no. A person searching for my self, the self that was destroyed and lost by time.