.png){kind=logo}
My story is about a young orphan who finds her mother just with the recognition of a necklace
1:50 p.m. The big black car rushes into the tunnel. The wind is blowing hard, trees sway from left to right. It is freezing cold outside. On the backseat of the car, a young mixed-race girl is tied up with rope. She is lying down and struggling with all her might. You can see fear and anguish in her eyes. She cries and screams. Suddenly, a white light appears.
She wakes up in a bed. A hospital room. She can see the sun rising from the window... By the way, that young girl is me, Jayden. I had a car accident which left my right arm paralyzed. I have to say that I was really lucky to get out alive, the accident left me with head trauma, a broken tibia and a few bruises. I was saved by a nurse, Asma. She has told me many times the story of how she found me.
I was on the ground, covered in blood. It was a neighbor from the village who called the ambulance, she told me . She was surprised to find me semi-conscious because of the impact of the shock of this accident.
Even though my accident happened 5 months ago now, I am still traumatized. However, thanks to Asma and the rest of the staff, I am recovering well. Ever since the accident, Asma has always been here for me. A small detail that always intrigued me is the pendant hanging around her neck. A cross. No, not a cross like the others and yet, I could have sworn that I had seen it before.
My childhood was very difficult. My parents died of a plane crash when I was only eight years old. I am sixteen now and I still miss them every day. After losing my parents, I had to go live with my godmother in the favelas of Sao Paulo, Brazil, where I suffered sexual abuse by her husband and my older cousin. We barely had anything to eat, so to help as much as possible, I sold drugs. I would go to bars or parties to deal. I even occasionally prostituted myself for extra money.
I lived there for five years with 3 cousins : Pablo, Juanez and Malia who were 18, 15 and 12 years old respectively. Malia was probably the most beloved of the family. She would always get what she wanted and it wasn't fair. Pablo abused me and my best friend Laura. I hate him with all my soul and I always will.
My birth name is Elena Alvarez. I was born in Brazil and my parents were part of a gang, one of the most powerful in Sao Paulo: The Chicanos. One rule of the gang was never to have children otherwise it would be killed with the gang's mark : a design of a cross on the forehead with a bullet in the head. Consequently, my parents had to hide my existence. Therefore, I grew up hidden from the world and under the pressure of gang violence.
On March 7, 2013, I was repatriated to Chile, where my parents lived before my birth, a new epidemic having affected the country. I was finally free from the pressure of the gangs. I still had to hide my identity so I changed my name to a more "American" sounding name: Jayden Smith.
Now you are probably wondering how the car accident happened and what does it have to do with my childhood in Brazil… Well I myself, still don't know. Troubled by my past, I often have panic attacks. My heart starts to pound, my hands get sweaty and suddenly it's not my hospital room that I see but shadows, the same shadows that I saw during my accident. These shadows are identical: same shape, same color. They seem like monsters; very dark and creepy black creatures that have been haunting me for the past 5 months. I feel like they try to tell me something, but I have no idea what. I decided to become a "sweet girl". I stopped doing anything illegal (which would have been difficult considering I'm stuck in a hospital...)
The shadows come back every night. I wonder what they want from me. They are slowly becoming more and more frequent and appearing not only at night but during the day as well. They haunt me.
One evening, after eating dinner in the cafeteria with the other patients, I went back to my room. I sat down on my bed and looked out the window, at the night sky and the shining stars.
Peter, my hospital friend is infected with a virus. He isn't the only one, this virus is spreading around the entire country. I leave my hospital room to get a drink, but the people around me no longer appear as humans but as shadows. I was scared; this has never happened before. I search for Asma in vain. I scream. I can't feel my left hand anymore, as if it's evaporating or flying away. The fingers on my hand turned into weapons, my room into a burning slum, and I felt Pablo's sneakers on my feet that used to be bare. I run to the mirror. I stare at myself and no longer see this weak, young girl, her disheveled curly hair, dark circles under her tired green eyes, pale complexion and wearing a hospital gown.
Instead, I was seeing Elder Elena, as in an older version of myself in a strange outfit : boots on, hooded face, a Kalashnikov in hand and armed with knives. She points her gun at me. This isn't possible. I'm hallucinating. This isn't real, it can't be. I hear "Elder Elena" say something like "past". She pulls the trigger.
The instant the bullet whistles by, I suddenly understand where those shadows and the image of Asma's necklace come from. My past finally becomes clear and has given way to the true and unique Elena Sanchez. A dull noise echoes. I was hit directly in the heart by Elena's bullet and collapsed to the ground.
Slowly, my eyes close themselves, my heartbeat slows down and I see the bedroom fading away. A tunnel begins to form in front of me, maybe it's my imagination, and my life flashing before my eyes at the end of it. My lungs are slowing down and I understand this is the end. Before my last breath, a question hits: what if at the end of this tunnel was my new life, awaiting my new existence ?
Progressively, everything becomes dream-like. I can't hear very well and my eyesight is blurry. I vaguely hear Asma walk into the bedroom followed by the other doctors. Asma bends down and screams. I can feel the desperation in her voice. Her eyes are soaked in tears. I hear her breathing heavily. That's when I realize where that look comes from. Asma is my mother.
All my life, I have suffered from losing my mother so young, but I overcame it. Today is the day my mom, Asma, loses me. But she will have to go on without me, she will know how it feels to lose someone dear.
The eyes chico, they never lie…