Mamá era sigilosa con sus pasos, después de todo, debía cuidarlos para poder salir de noche tan despacio.
Cada mañana, iba al baño y tomaba su maquillaje, y trataba de disimular un poco los moretones que había dejado la lucha de la noche anterior.
Humedecía un poco su paño, y por sus mejillas secaba las lagrimas de tristeza, las que alguna vez le habían prometido serían de sonrisas.
Aún recuerdo ese beso que sentía en la madrugada, mientras que con tierna pasión me miraba, incapaz de decir lo mal que se encontraba, solos sus besos en la frente me calmaban, pues sabía que por las noches lloraba al verla desilusionada, así que antes de irse, en mi oído susurraba:
—Nos vemos en la mañana amor mío, todo estará bien, siempre estará bien —
Papá apenas se percataba, su apariencia de ser un verdadero hombre no me engañaba, era todo un cobarde cuando mamá se molestaba, aún así, cuando aquello entraba dentro de sí, parecía que nada le importaba, aunque yo estuviera frente a él, a mamá siempre golpeaba.
—Tienes que tratarlas así, porque si no, te van a dañar la vida hijo…—
Mis lagrimas no se detenían, mi corazón palpitaba tan rápido como podía, mientras mis gemidos encausaban el camino al dolor.
Aun así, mi mente aun no captaba, apenas era un niño cuando esa situación se presentaba, pero de lo que estaba seguro, era que lo menos que deseaba, era que eso pasara.
Aún siento los besos de mamá en la frente…
Sin darme cuenta, comencé a odiar las noches, eran un concierto de gritos y llantos, la luna miraba sin encanto, al una que una vez juró en lágrimas, amar a aquella mujer, que hoy estaba impregnada en el sufrimiento, en el sufrir por el querer.
Mamá volvía a casa deseando que fuera diferente como las otras noches, pero antes de que terminara de desear, caía de nuevo a sus pies, víctima de un mal querer.
En sus noches de furia, papá decía que todo era mi culpa, que yo había sido un error, un error por el que ella pagaría todas las consecuencias.
Un golpe certero hizo que ella cayera al suelo, y al mirar debajo de su cama, se dio cuenta de que allí me encontraba, en el suplicio y la pena, deseando que yo fuera ella, y que nunca más sufriera.
—No, no salgas de allí Williams— Musito con sus labios ensangrentados y sus ojos envueltos en lágrimas.
Papá se sentía triunfante, después de la noche incesante, aquello dentro de sí pareció alejarse, dejándolo tendido en cama, dichoso de poder haber dado otra “lección” a mamá, quién aun bañada en sangre, trataba de calmarme.
Apenas podía abrir los ojos en aquel instante, no podía sino solo esconderme en el regazo de ella, quién me dejaba a un lado de la cama, diciéndome que volvería en un momento.
Jamás había escuchado un sonido semejante al de aquella vez, como el de una ruleta al girar, y el sonido de un “crack” se detuvo.
Entreabrí mis ojos aún empapados en lágrimas, y miré como mamá se reponía de la golpiza que papá le había dado, solo por no haber llegado 10 minutos antes a casa.
Esa vez, mamá no lloró hasta quedarse dormida a mi lado, esa vez no me abrazo diciendo que todo estaría bien, esa vez, simplemente fue diferente.
Sus manos temblaban mientras sostenía algo con lo que una vez creí tener en mis manos mientras jugaba con mi amigo, era brillante y tenía lo que parecía ser un cañón.
—¡Hasta hoy será este calvario, hasta hoy será este dolor, maldito desgraciado! — decía entre dientes, sin dejar de llorar, mientras seguía apuntándolo de frente.
—Mami, ¿Qué haces? — Pregunté susurrando, también sentía el miedo a que papá despertara.
En mi inocencia no entendía que pasaba, pero solo me imaginaba, que los ruidos que yo hacia al sonar mi pistola imaginaria, sería el mismo que saldría de el de mamá, y que solo haría como yo, solo hacía los malos.
Ella solo mordía sus labios, aunque era muy pequeño, solía escuchar que aquello era de impotencia, y aunque no sabía que era, solo entendía que lo hacían los adultos cuando estaban molestos o triste.
Realmente no sabía cómo sentía mamá ese día, con cobardía pude levantarme, con el terror impregnado en mi ser, queriendo solo abrazar a mamá, solo decirle que todo estaría bien, como ella siempre me decía.
Antes de pode tomar su mano, escuche lo que era el sonido estruendoso como aquellas películas que veía en el televisor, rápidamente caí al suelo sin saber de donde venía, ni mucho menos a donde ir.
Creí que todo había acabado, pero poco a poco vi caer a mi mamá a mi lado, mientras yo tomaba su mano.
Lloraba desconsoladamente, no sabía qué hacer, mamá apenas se sostenía, mientras yo sostenía sus manos frías…
Mom was stealthy with her steps, after all, she had to watch them so she could go out at night so slowly.
Every morning, she would go to the bathroom and take her makeup, and try to disguise a little of the bruises left by the previous night's fight.
She would dampen her cloth a little, and wipe the tears of sadness from her cheeks, the ones she had once been promised would be smiles.
I still remember that kiss I felt in the early morning, while with tender passion she looked at me, unable to say how bad she was, only her kisses on my forehead calmed me, because she knew that at night I cried when I saw her disappointed, so before leaving, in my ear she whispered:
-See you in the morning my love, everything will be alright, it will always be alright -.
Dad barely noticed, his appearance of being a real man did not deceive me, he was a coward when mom was upset, even so, when that entered inside him, it seemed that nothing mattered to him, even if I was in front of him, he always hit mom.
-You have to treat them like that, because if you don't, they will damage your life, son...".
My tears wouldn't stop, my heart was beating as fast as it could, while my moans were leading the way to pain.
Even so, my mind still did not grasp, I was just a child when that situation arose, but what I was sure of, was that the least I wanted, was for that to happen.
I can still feel my mother's kisses on my forehead...
Without realizing it, I began to hate the nights, they were a concert of screams and cries, the moon looked without charm, to the one who once swore in tears, to love that woman, who today was impregnated in suffering, in suffering for wanting.
Mom would come home wishing it would be different like the other nights, but before she could finish wishing, she would fall again at his feet, victim of a bad love.
In her nights of rage, Dad would say that it was all my fault, that I had been a mistake, a mistake for which she would pay all the consequences.
An accurate blow made her fall to the floor, and as she looked under her bed, she realized that there I was, in torment and sorrow, wishing that I was her, and that she would never suffer again.
-No, don't come out of there, Williams," she whispered with blood on her lips and tears in her eyes.
Dad felt triumphant, after the incessant night, that inside him seemed to go away, leaving him lying in bed, happy to have given another "lesson" to mom, who, still bathed in blood, was trying to calm me down.
I could hardly open my eyes at that moment, I could only hide in her lap, who left me on the side of the bed, telling me that she would be back in a moment.
I had never heard a sound like that before, like a roulette wheel spinning, and the sound of a "crack" stopped.
I half-opened my still tear-soaked eyes, and watched as Mom recovered from the beating Dad had given her, just for not coming home 10 minutes earlier.
That time, mom didn't cry herself to sleep next to me, that time she didn't hug me saying everything would be okay, that time, it was just different.
Her hands were shaking as she held something with what I once thought I had in my hands while playing with my friend, it was shiny and had what appeared to be a cannon.
-Until today it will be this ordeal, until today it will be this pain, you fucking bastard! - I said between my teeth, still crying, while I kept pointing it in front of him.
-Mommy, what are you doing? - I asked whispering, I was also afraid that daddy would wake up.
In my innocence I didn't understand what was happening, but I only imagined that the noises I made when my imaginary gun sounded, would be the same that would come out of mom's, and that she would only do like me, she would only do the bad ones.
She would just bite her lips, even though I was very little, I used to hear that it was out of helplessness, and even though I didn't know what it was, I only understood that adults did it when they were upset or sad.
I didn't really know how mom felt that day, with cowardice I could get up, with terror impregnated in my being, wanting just to hug mom, just to tell her that everything would be all right, as she always told me.
Before I could take her hand, I heard what was the thunderous sound like those movies I used to watch on TV, I quickly fell to the ground without knowing where it came from, let alone where to go.
I thought it was all over, but little by little I saw my mom fall next to me, while I took her hand.
I was crying inconsolably, I didn't know what to do, mom was barely holding on, while I held her cold hands....
Ismael D. Rodríguez/Contenido Original
Discord ismaelrd04#9345
