Ernesto Mario Rosa

The Broken Doll


 
He awoke suddenly, in one breath, feeling of having slept a lot, too. He had mild fatigue memories of a terrible, devastating, almost terminal. My mouth was dry and a huge thirst, hunger also. He had wet his pants but thankfully was able to withstand the urge to defecate. There seemed to be asleep days ...
All of this evaluation hardly took five seconds, then all his senses were activated combat veteran.
He looked for his gun and found the left, next to his leg, touched by the whole body for wounds but found nothing, put on his helmet and kept his head to repair. But all he found were ruins around and silence. While watching the surroundings, the strange and unfamiliar environment, he tried to recall, to rummage in his mind the background of your situation.
But there was nothing he could not remember how he got there, it seemed as if his short-term memory had been extinguished. Once convinced of the absence of danger was getting up slowly, keeping your back hunched. So she slid slowly across the field, advancing inch by inch, looking for any movement, the slightest sound. But the silence and stillness was all around him and that puzzled him. He entered the army at eighteen, when his country was at war for three years. He was twenty and was a true survivor, a fighter and an outstanding expert murderer. The murder had become commonplace, everyday and necessary. There was recently promoted to captain and saw the death of their own and others' as the movements required of a party of some macabre game where only the consummation of the target matter. His soul had died long since but who could blame him?. At the time when a young man usually seeks early work experiences, he was killing to survive. When it should be in love, thinking of children and family, a home, winters in the warmth of the logs, he was killing to survive. Thus the war became his life and did not know that, elsewhere, had no future, no place, that after the war would be a casualty, just continue breathing.
Baffled him most was the silence. He was accustomed to the bodies, the corrupted flesh, the ruins, the groans of the wounded and dying, explosions of gunfire and bombs, the stench of burning flesh, the screams, the pleas for help ... That was his element, but it puzzled him. The demolition caused by the artillery had done a great job on the spot, watching all this as it moved through the field, and had made a large crop losses. All those killed were enemies and that he tore a cynical smile and youthful face, that face of skin soiled and dirty, ruined by years of mud and blood. His camouflage uniform was in tatters and mentally thanked be in summer or at least, to make heat, otherwise the little fabric standing would surely die of cold. His left ankle statutory much to be desired and left a small hole was beginning to form. Then inspect a dead body for better clothes.
But then, not now was the time.
Automatic rifle carried in the magazine plus one half intact in the belt, which was not much since, obviously, was right in enemy territory. He did not have grenades or any communication element, the apparatus hanging from the leather belt was not strictly speaking a radio and not even know what it was, he would see. It was also the risk of coming under fire himself at any time since the artillery of their own could continue the bombing. Of course if you were unaware of the signs of life prevailing in the place would be absolutely unnecessary, there seemed nothing to breathe, or a rat, the devastation was total.
At that moment he heard the noise.
It was small, almost noiseless, but to a trained ear like he was a huge uproar. Aiming to place of origin of the sound and burst into land was all one, an efficient and elegant ballet movement. He stood motionless, inert, but tense and expectant, millimeter sweeping the area in question with a view of the rifle. Nothing moved and the noise was repeated. He sat up slowly by offering the lowest possible target, his eyes wild sweeping all four sides. Moved slowly toward the place in question, the entry of a dwelling that barely kept some walls and a small part of the roof in precarious balance. Joined with the gun ready, ready to open fire at the slightest movement.
But nothing happened.
He drove inside the ruined building inspecting every square meter treated, always keep your back against a wall. The shelter of a roof portion which was still found instead a blanket filled with dirt and bloodied, a makeshift bed, and some canned food remains clearly belonging to the enemy. He rummaged around the barrel of the gun and hit the bed with the back of the hand.
It was still slightly warm.
This was sure, belonged to a soldier, if so would not be alive. Also a man minimally trained such evidence would not let the free observation or two seconds. Still did not know what or who he was and had to be careful. He left the ruined building with more stealth and care when he entered ...
And then he saw her.
She stood before him within eight feet, defying all fine and trained senses, had managed to get too close. He was extremely dirty and skinny. Her deep dark eyes dark circles marked up with tremendous contrasted against the intense pallor of the skin of the face. Her hair was a shapeless mass around his head in all directions, his arms and legs in the bones, the ribs in low relief. Only his direct gaze, deep and fearless, had life, radiating an energy that the rest of his body did not reply at all. He wore a tattered rag doll hanging from his left hand, his head hanging a thin lint alarmingly.
His first reaction was to lift the gun and shoot but who knows why, barely restrained his instinct murderer.
They stood there, petrified, staring at each other. He thought he could take between seven and eleven but in his war years had seen human beings so deteriorated that despite having a couple of decades seemed young children, by malnutrition, by wear, with bitterness.
It was she who took the lead and slowly began to close the gap. He raised his rifle and tightened his finger on the trigger, now shoot, one step further and ...
He leaned his forehead on the barrel of a gun without looking away from the soldier's eyes, maybe he wanted to pull the trigger, you may want to end the misery that meant his life.
But nothing happened ...
She was half naked, covered only parts chaste a dirty rag tied wrong. He lowered the gun and the barrel of the gun struck the ground with heavy thud. She held out her hand and took the soldier, something changed forever in man at first contact. No words, just looks, those looks that twinned in tragedy. Her incredibly thin fingers made contact with the rustic hand, calloused, huge and strong. With just four feet pushed the burly warrior forward as he thought, true to their nature, could be leading him into a trap. However, something within himself reassured him, filled him with peace, confidence. That was inadvertently left behind helmet and rifle and started walking guided the girl to where she wanted to take a prey to a mysterious spell.
They stopped at a house miraculously standing, with only some traces of shrapnel and rifle bullets. A stout oak door kept inside. The girl looked at him from below, he understood. Of a strong kick down the door and they entered, the girl first, careless, defiant, he, with the stealth of a soldier who lived inside.
She moved with absolute certainty, even in the semi-darkness prevailed, as if he knew every inch of every room in the house, he moved with the slowness resulting from confusion and ignorance. He saw her squatting in a corner and heard her sigh, came to see what was what attracted his attention.
It was a corpse.
I had several weeks and was a woman. The eyes of the girl drew tears fell calm furrows in the dirt from his face. There were no sounds or faces of grief, just tears falling from eyes serene under an expressionless face. The dead had a hole in the front, perfectly in the middle. An execution. A coward and probably unnecessary execution. He stood beside her, more in a few seconds stood up and again took the hand. She led him in the dark until a stay where there was a faint light, the lack of furniture was complete and the floor was of rough wood and untreated. He stood in the corner East and pointed down, he noticed, bending at the place designated by it, that was before a gate on the floor, a trap door. He regretted not having his rifle, he knew that he kept inside the gate. It crossed his mind to look back but ... so what?.
He joined sprayed and kicked the door. Then he threw himself into the dark black box found. His feet found the ground quickly and thick darkness enveloped him. He stood motionless, expectant, attentive to the slightest noise, the slightest movement. But nothing happened and slowly rising. He looked up and saw her outstretched arms, and took it down ... it was so light. She immediately went to a place and returned with a lantern fuel and matches, lit the lantern. What was then interpreted as if it had been written on paper.
On the floor were four bodies, three soldiers and a civilian ... and a small opening to the outside, so small that only a small body could pass through. There were obvious signs of struggle. The civilian still carrying the gun that killed the military, was a gun like yours, like the uniforms worn by the military.
They were on their side, fellow.
An unnerving shame gripped her throat, and the feeling of disappointment bittering squeezed his soul. She meanwhile went to his father and crouched beside him, as he had with his mother. He gave the same amount of tears and in the same manner as if it were in vain to another, as if there was something else ...
He again took the hand and lantern high, he was led to a door built into the wall, she pointed.
It was a pantry.
Inside was deli-style meals and several barrels of water. He felt his insides squirm with anxiety emitting a growl and mouth remarkable claim by moisture. However carefully examined every food and every barrel of liquid. Everything seemed in perfect condition, everything cleverly prepared and neatly kept.
The war has these things.
With a knife (where was yours?) Present in the cupboard and small thin slices cut from a ham hanging from a crossbar and was giving the slowly, dosing every bite, the girl who ate with avidity animal. Also offered short sips of water. Each well was also something he got in his mouth and hit a short drink a pitcher who, like the knife, was found in the cupboard. They were not to binge, could ill. Should allow time for both digestive systems to understand that the long period of leisure had come to an end, at least for now.
The intake slowly it took hours but finally were full. Then put in a bag found at the scene all the food and drink he could and left the basement. They walked slowly, still inside the house when she suddenly broke into a run and disappeared into a doorway. He followed the passage matching. He ended up in a bathroom that miraculously still had water. She took off all his clothes, turned on the shower and went under with an indescribable smile of satisfaction, he retired wise but wanting the girl to end as soon as possible to imitate. The exterior found them neat and clean clothes, he with the girl's father, she in a gorgeous pink dress that was in the closet of his old room. Faint and clean pleased smiles began to appear on the faces of both. I am happier?. They sat against a wall, these previously separate bodies, and relaxed, surrounded by debris and corruption. The prevailing stench seemed to affect them. Sometimes some getting used to work miracles. He took the wrist of the girl's hands, let go at any time except when bathing, and examined it. Despite the generally parlous state only the head was broken, or rather, threatened to break away from a just cause at any moment. He looked for a piece of cloth on the floor and disarmed him stranded thread. Then did a great job with those threads locking the head of the doll to her neck. The end result was crude but effective and fascinated the girl who showed a clean smile with joy. Then pressed the doll to her stomach and rested her head against the burly soldier's chest. This sighed reluctantly. A few seconds later I thought it was asleep.
Then he heard the "BEEP". Once, twice, three ...
Came from the belt that belonged to his uniform, he had kept to that he was not the pants fall girl's father, somewhat thicker than him. He had also preserved the strange apparatus could not remember their usefulness. From there came the annoying "BEEP". He unhooked his belt and put it in his eyes. A small red light flickered at the rate of "BEEP's". Instinctively he put his finger on the light and pressed. The sound ceased but his mind ran over some images in uncontrolled droves.
He was driving a military road at full speed and frequently looking device that now before him.
Saw as the management distraction in the vehicle was rammed sideways against a piece of masonry and overturned.
He was exiting the vehicle just in time before it burst into flames. He watched like crazy running any number of meters until you fainted in the well where he woke up.
Again in reality the eyes refocused on the device. Just had a three-digit number in rapid downstroke and a light bar that slowly but surely increasing its length. Apart from that, did not remember at all. Understandably ceased his attempts to understand and set about looking at the girl. A strange carelessness began to invade his body and seemed to float slightly. Fatigue, like all discomfort disappeared suddenly. He was spectacular, full, full of life. I thought the girl had put something cold and pale. He reached out and hit some dirty rags which clothed the girl, his girl ....

When the toxic radioactive cloud reached the counter marked zero strange device and the light bar had reached its maximum extent. By then both had been dead for a long time already and had avoided a long and painful agony.
But in the last minutes of his life really had lived a life.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Ernesto Mario Rosa.
Published on e-Stories.org on 04/19/2012.

 

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