Nada debe ser retirado de un cementerio, nada…
Nothing should be removed from a cemetery, nothing...
ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)
It looked so beautiful in the corner of the living room, full of colours that contrasted with the bright green of its leaves. A natural, original pine tree would make the family have a different Christmas, so different from the others that it would cause the envy of the whole town. They had to stand out, to make everyone talk about them, especially when after the natural tragedy there was little vegetation left on the site. Only fantasy trees were left to decorate.
They had to be the lucky ones, the ones who would draw the most attention and make the tree look splendid through the large windows of the luxurious and pompous house.
But to arouse more envy, the Christmas tree would not be lit until the appointed day, the neighbours would have to see it and talk about it, for an eternal time. They were a wealthy family, and they had to have what others could not, so they would buy a natural pine tree, one of dubious origin, but what mattered was its prose.
The grandmother of the family was already old enough, she used a cane to guide herself and warned about what the family silently wanted. She sensed, with her almost hundred years, where the tree came from, from the only place where the tornado had not arrived, the highest of the hill, there where life culminates and souls rest in an embracing dream.
Nothing is to be taken or taken from a cemetery, for the wind of that meadow with it will carry them to its side, those objects withdrawn from where they are nestled.
The old woman only raved, the family babbled, and the pine tree bright with lights and garlands they dressed so elegantly. Decorations of all colours for the neighbours to gaze upon and their eyes were open like two stars.
The day had come and the great gala hall was adorned, the table filled with a great banquet, the best of all to their delight. After the family had enjoyed so many delicacies and when it was still time for twelve o'clock, they approached the tree filled with beautiful gifts in large and small packages with decorated bows.
When they were all around the big pine tree, which at its top had a big shining star, the father of the family did the honour of turning on the lights that had everyone so excited.
The old woman looked on from afar with a sad face, for she was old but wise and sure of what her soul held.
The children were playing, opening presents, sitting on the floor around the big tree, while parents, uncles, aunts and uncles and other relatives were toasting and near the little ones, their laughter was flowing. The neighbours watched through the big windows as luxury and opulence reigned in that big house, as it looked like the perfect Christmas. Their eyes couldn't take their eyes off the glass, so absorbed were they that time did not pass.
But those same eyes could see something that those inside could not perceive, that the lights so bright were like sparks of life that the tree was giving some kind of life. A tree that had been born next to the graves and nourished by them, and that was to remain there forever for the rest of the souls buried there to contain. But the family, in their eagerness to excel, could no longer leave that house.
Those eyes watched as the branches moved and from the tips a smoke was released, one that, dancing in the air inside each of the inhabitants of that house, was introduced to their corroding body. One by one they all disappeared, while the old woman in her wheelchair and at the door of the room was watching them and on her cheeks the tears ran like a river. She knew she must not go near him to avoid disaster.
The room was deserted, the lights went out and little by little the great pine tree fell to ashes, taking with it the pride, the ego and the greed, the lust for superiority that does the world so much harm.
LucĂa tan bello en el rincĂłn de la sala, lleno de colores que contrastaban con el verde brillante de sus hojas. Un pino natural, original, harĂa que la familia tuviera una navidad diferente, tan diferente a las demás que causarĂa la envidia de todo el pueblo. TenĂan que sobresalir, que todos hablaran de ellos, más cuando luego de la tragedia natural poca vegetaciĂłn habĂa quedado en el lugar. SĂłlo árboles de fantasĂa cabĂan la posibilidad de adornar.
Ellos debĂan ser los más afortunados, los que miradas arrancaran y que ese árbol se viera esplendoroso por los grandes ventanales de la casona lujosa y pomposa.
Pero para despertar más envidia, el árbol de navidad hasta al dĂa indicado no encenderĂan, los vecinos debĂan verlo y hablar de ello, durante un tiempo eterno. Eran una familia adinerada, y debĂan tener lo que otros no podĂan, por eso un pino natural comprarĂan, uno de procedencia dudosa pero lo que importaba era su prosa.
La abuela de la familia ya sus muchos años tenĂa, con un bastĂłn se conducĂa y advirtiĂł sobre lo que la familia silenciosamente querĂa. IntuĂa, con sus casi cien años, de donde venĂa el árbol, del Ăşnico lugar donde el tornado no habĂa llegado, el más alto de la colina, allĂ donde la vida culmina y las almas descansan en un sueño que abrazan.
Nada debe sacarse ni tomarse de un cementerio, porque el viento de ese prado con él los llevará a su lado, a aquellos que objetos retiren de donde están enclavados.
La anciana sĂłlo desvariaba, la familia balbuceaba y al pino brillante con luces y guirlandas vistieron tan elegante. Decoraciones de todos los colores para que los vecinos las miren y sus ojos queden abiertos como dos luceros.
El dĂa habĂa llegado y el gran salĂłn de gala esta adornado, la mesa llena de un gran banquete, el mejor de todos para su deleite. Luego de la familia disfrutar de tantos manjares y cuando aĂşn faltaba tiempo para las doce, se acercaron al árbol lleno de hermosos regalos en grandes y pequeños paquetes con moños engalanados.
Cuando todos estaban alrededor del gran pino que en su punta tenĂa una gran estrella con mucho brillo, el padre de familia hacĂa el honor de encender las luces que con tanta expectativa a todos tenĂa.
La anciana miraba desde lejos con el rostro triste pues era vieja pero sabia y estaba segura de lo que guardaba su alma.
Los niños jugaban, abrĂan los regalos, sentados en el suelo alrededor del gran árbol, mientras los padres, tĂos y demás familiares brindaban y cerca de los más pequeños, sus risas brotaban. Los vecinos miraban a travĂ©s de las grandes ventanas como el lujo y la opulencia reinaba en esa gran casa, como parecĂa la Navidad perfecta. Sus ojos de los cristales no podĂan apartar, tan absortos estaban que el tiempo no pasaba.
Pero esos mismos ojos pudieron ver algo que los que habitaban en el interior no percibĂan, que las luces tan brillantes eran como chispas de vida que al árbol estaba dando algĂşn tipo de vida. Un árbol que junto a las tumbas habĂa nacido y de ellas se habĂa nutrido y que allĂ debĂa por siempre permanecer por resto de las almas ahĂ enterradas contener. Pero la familia en su afán de sobresalir, de esa casa ya no podrĂan partir.
Esos ojos observaban como las ramas se movĂan y de las puntas un humo se desprendĂa, uno que, danzando en el aire dentro de cada uno de los habitantes de esa casona, se introducĂa hasta su cuerpo corroer. Uno a uno todos, fueron desapareciendo, mientras la anciana en su silla de ruedas y en la puerta de la sala los estaba viendo y sobre sus mejillas las lágrimas como un rio ellas corrieron. SabĂa que a Ă©l no debĂa acercarse para evitar el desastre.
La sala quedó desierta, las luces se apagaron y poco a poco el gran pino en cenizas se deshizo, llevándose la soberbia, el ego y la avaricia, las ansias de superioridad que al mundo le hacen tanto mal.
ENGLISH VERSION (click here!)
With this fictional story of my full authorship and without the use of AI, I participate in the second part of the KrampOwl Mansion Event: Horror Christmas! And I invite
Thank you very much to all of you for reading me today, I send you a big greeting. See you soon.
Amonet.
Con esta historia de ficciĂłn de mi plena autorĂa y sin uso de IA, participo de la segunda parte del ¡Evento en la mansiĂłn del KrampOwl: Navidad de Terror! E invito a participar del mismo a
Muchas gracias a todos por leerme el dĂa de hoy, les envĂo un gran saludo. Hasta pronto.
Amonet.
Todo el escrito es de mi autorĂa - The entire document is my own work.
Diseños realizados en Photoshop CS6 - Designs made in Photoshop CS6
Enlaces de imágenes usadas - Links to images used
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Separadores creados por mĂ en Photoshop - Separators created by me in Photoshop
Traductor utilizado Deepl.com versiĂłn gratuita - Used translator Deepl.com free version