They Never Saw Me

I could feel the life drain out of my body, the blood in my veins came to a standstill, the ever active pump of my heart slowed down to a weak four beats per minute, my time in this world had finally come and I had no regrets. I was content, content with the isolation, content with the silence, content because of my books and music so soothing it could put an ogre to sleep, I would miss listening to music, to the slow rhythm of Mozart's requiem. I would also miss Mathew's funny attempts to imitate English and Italian accents. Mathew is the only person who saw me apart from my dear grandmother minha avó. I would probably have married him if I stayed alive. I love him or is it I loved him, was I dead yet. The most important reason that would make my departure to the afterlife less saddening was that I tried. I tried to save them, I gave my life to save the people I loved, I never gave up, and certainly no one can accuse me of that. I watched as the monster hovered over me ominously announcing my death. Her blood shot eyes were blazing with triumph and the fires of hell. I waited for the killing strike and watched in disgust as she smiled that malicious smile that is the last thing her victims ever see.

"NO!" I whispered fiercely, "no I said, that will not be the last thing I see" I closed my eyes and went back, back to when I was still alive and kicking, back to my last days alive.

Their eyes shine with pride. My youngest siblings gathered around me their excitement all but oozing out off their very pores. They giggled in childish delight while their eyes sparkled with admiration as they looked up at me. My mother walked to me from across the room in her usual graceful stride that made you think of feathers. She hardly touched the floor looking as if she was gliding on air. She reached me and lightly caressed my right cheek. With lips as soft as an angel's whisper and with the lightest of touches she brushed my cheeks. She angled her head and whispered loud enough for only me to hear.

"I love you darling." She said .She straightened all the while winking at me. Suddenly a weight fell on my shoulder causing me to startle. I watched as if in slow motion, in a mixture of astonishment and deep satisfaction, as my father's hand patted my shoulder. So loud that the whole room echoed he bellowed "I am proud of you Maite, my little girl." A soft sigh escaped my lips, then...

"MUMMY! IGOR TOOK MY SUPERMAN ATCION FIGURE. GIVE IT BACK OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BEAT THE LIVING..." My brother, Bruno, shouted from below my room. This was answered by

"BRUNO! I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR A SINGLE SWEAR WORD FROM THOSE MANNERLESS LIPS OF YOURS OR YOU WILL NOT TASTE A SINGLE BITE FROM THE PAO DE QUEIJO I BAKED, I KNOW IT'S YOUR FAVORITE. GET DOWN HERE THIS MINUTE." this came from my mother who was most likely preparing breakfast in the kitchen.

That rude awakening brought me sitting ramrod straight in my tiny bed. My reluctant eyes took in the little attic that had so many times offered me the solitude I had always sought the emotionally tiring encounters with my family. My brothers were monsters and my sisters not far behind. I felt the sting of tears filling my eyes but this time I refused to have my siblings torment me even from their own rooms. I got ready in little under a minute and took a minute to still my nerves and gather the courage to face another day. I pushed my reluctant legs and moved past the threshold of my room door.

The pleasant fragrance greeted me at the door of the dinning room. I knew what I would see when I walked through the door, the table laid down with tasty foods that are my mother's specialty. I could smell the 'Pão de Queijo', the cheese bread I loved so much. One would think that is why my mother baked it but it was just unfortunate that my brother and I both have the same taste in food. I was sure I could smell the 'Doce de Leite' and the 'Feijoada'. As I was about to step through the door my mother spoke.