About Failures

The kid took a deep breath and hen smiled. She went up stairs and changed her shoes, a better match. She came back down and found her in a cry; How could you this to me? She screamed, How Could you even try?
The girl promised in a soft voice it had been just a breath, nothing else. But she didn’t believe it and raised her voice again. So the girl raised it too. It wasn’t a competition but sometimes it might appear so. So she screamed again, How can you be this way? Why are you this… this… person… this monster…?
The girl sat in the arm of a chair and said nothing. She sat and thought what she should said, but said nothing. She carried on, she said, This thing you are, it makes me a failure. You make me a failure. I gave you only love and now, you are this thing, and it makes me fail.
The girl couldn’t hear those words so she shut herself inside. No crying allowed until mommy was out. She went to bed, her dramatic Greta Garbo dying act. The girl said she was sorry, feeling her insides crumble. One more time. Just one last time. She said nothing.
It is now that the girl begins to cry; she goes to the bathroom and catches the eye; the red silhouette the puffy lips the wet nostrils and the lost smile. The green eyes. She’s right, a monster at last.