I remember ir vividly. It was a hot autumn day, within a little area that had been rented to host my party. I was dressed as the amazing spider man. It wasn't a great costume, using just a zipper and some ackward cloth to keep the pieces of the costume in place. Still, children are easily impressionable. I was so happy, running around and playing with my friends as if the day would never end. The cake arrived at abou 2 hours before leaving the party. A blue and red cake with spider web icing on top. To be honest the cake wasn't that great, but I still enjoyed, because as I already said: kids can be quite impressionable.
Something I remember even more vividly how my trip to camp "Santa Ursula" unfolded. That has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. I had so much fun in the water slides, the canoes, the go-karts, the sports we played, and most of all, on the pendulum.
Picture this: a giant structure easily rising 20 meters into the air, with cloth and wire cables that attached to a small piece of plastic and wood were three persons are supposed to lay down, just to be strapped to it by harnesses. The hanging piece with the passengers would then be pulled back several meters until the passengers were all staring back at the floor, feeling as if they slipped through the harness. The piece would then be let go, launching itself to the other side of the structure in such a brute manner it'd cause all kinds of sensations. That was the pendulum.... and I loved it!
I even remember some specific dialogue between my friend Alex and I.
As the ride started and I was let go just to feel the rush of emotions, he goes:
"Hey man! I think one of the harnesses is beginning to break!" Alex said.
He was of course joking.
"F**K YOU!!!" I shouted. Every single mentor was there, but at that point, I didn't give a crap.
To this days I treasure it as one of my most precious memories and it makes me so happy just to think about it. Sorry for boring you with more of my nonsense, but I wanted your opinion on something.
The following is a short story that I wrote for a writing club. I decided to challenge myslef and write it in 2nd person, and it's about me, being sentenced to death row, then being asked what I'd like for my last meal and my execution. [You don't have to read it if you don't want to].
YOUR LAST MEAL
Your name is Luis Almanza. You don’t want to remember that, but you have to. You don’t want to associate your name with the atrocities you’ve done, but you have to, because this isn’t just some reality you can alter. This is real life, and you know what you did,and you can’t change that.
You have no clue of how much time you’ve been in the cell. It might have been a few weeks, it might have been a few months. What they said, about the solitary confinement, it’s all true, and much worse. The cell, the goddamn cell, everything’s white in it. The pillows, the bed, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the toilet, even the goddamn water. You’d heard of this before. Psychological torture, but you had not expected the food. All white, the plate’s white, and it’s all injected with chemicals so your wastes will be white as well.
You try to clear your head, but the only thing in your mind is the white room. A blank mind awaits you. All of a sudden you hear a voice. At first it’s unclear, although after a few short seconds you run to the door to see what the guard has to say.
The guy’s a young man, about a head taller than you, with pale skin as snow and a hair Goldilocks would be proud of. He steps inside and, of course, he’s wearing a white uniform. The man approaches you and you notice that he has a very square jaw and has big bruises on his knuckles. That and the fact that some bloodstains covered his upper neck suggested that he had just beat up someone. He moves his hand back and as you prepare for the first blow, he hands you a blank sheet of paper and a white pen.
“What’s this for?” You ask.
“You’ve been sentenced to death row, your execution is tomorrow. You’ll write what you want for your last meal here, and make it quick, I don’t have your time, although I guess you don’t either.”
For a moment you didn’t move a muscle, you did not breath or even dare to blink. Taking in the realization that you were in death row, and furthermore, that that night would be your last meal, was a terrifying thought, but then your logical mind took over and decided that if that wa going to be your last meal, it would be your best.
“I want turkey!”
“Just write it down...”
“Roasted, tender turkey, oh and donuts! A bunch of glazed donuts! Colorful and full of jam and other sweets!”
“You’re not supposed to tell-”
“And a HUUUUUUUUUUUGE chocolate cake, but take any sprinkles off, I only want mint chips.”
By that point the man is just tired and leaves, but not before he says he’ll be back within the hour and that he’ll take whatever you’ve been able to write in the piece of paper.
` After an hour he’s back, he takes the paper and leaves. You were so excited on the last meal that when the realization of death comes back to you, it hits you like a sledgehammer to the face. Sweat drips down your face, your chest and mostly the rest of your body. The cold feeling inside is unbearable but at the same time there’s an opposite feeling of burning on the outside. The white walls seem to be closing in on you and you scream and scream until you have no more voice or breath. By the time the food’s in you’re dying on paranoia… that is until you see the buffet in front of you.
All of a sudden an alarm rings and smashes through your body as if hell inside you just broke loose and it can only be put down by one thing and one thing alone, food. Deciding what to eat first creates excruciating pain, but pleasure at the same time. It’s the first time you see any kind of food that’s not white in the last couple of weeks or months that you’ve been here and decide that you’ll go for the lobster first. Bright red and squishy, you never really liked lobster, but you go “why the hell not?”
After hours of binge-eating as if there’s no tomorrow, which at this point is technically true, you go to sleep. You don’t remember much after that. You wake up early and you see the needle. Such a small thing can be so menacing.
“So, it’s time already?”
“Yes,” says the same man as yesterday.
“Ok, well, from one killer to another… I’ll see you in hell, if there’s one at all that is…”
Your vision gets blurry, your arms and legs weaker, and all of a sudden, you’re gone.
END
If you took the time to read it, thank you. If not, that's fine too.
Thanks for reading my blog, and I hope you have a great day!
