Una flor para Victoria
La cocina se llenaba con las carcajadas de Migue, que volaba en los brazos de su padre de un lado a otro, sorteando las sillas y miradas furtivas de su madre que preparaba la cena. Victoria estaba un poco irritada por el alboroto que la desconcentraba de sus deberes, las matemáticas nunca habían sido su fuerte. Tenía la mesa cubierta de libros y cuadernos. El primer año de secundaria no resultaba tan sencillo como se lo trataban de hacer ver sus amigas.
-Recoge la mesa querida que voy a servir la cena- Le dijo Carlota mientras le indicaba con un gesto a Ángel que ayudara a poner la mesa.
Las últimas luces del atardecer penetraban por las ventanas bañando los rostros de la familia que conversaba tranquilamente sobre su día. Unas horas de TV y juegos mermaron las energías de Migue que daba señales, en sus ojos negros, de un pesado y profundo sueño. Los mismos brazos que alborotaron sus rizos a través del aire cálido de la tarde lo llevaron con cariño hasta su cama, lo arroparon y tras un suave beso en la frente, Ángel, dejó el cuarto a oscuras.
Caminó hacia la sala donde su mujer se relajaba sentada en el sofá con una generosa copa de vino entre sus manos. Se acercó a ella por la espalda y con un lento movimiento apartó sus cabellos castaños de su cuello y empezó a besarlo. Un delicioso escalofrío estremeció a Carlota, que ladeó la cabeza mientras se dibujaba una pícara sonrisa en su rostro.
-Me acompaña al cuarto, amor- Le susurró en el oído antes de darle una provocadora mordida en la oreja y luego otra en el cuello.
Tomó un largo trago de la copa, la dejó en la mesilla de cristal y se volteó hacia Ángel. Se puso de rodillas sobre el sofá para quedar frente a él. Lo sujetó por la camisa y tiró de ella, buscando acortar la distancia. El dulzor del vino inundó su lengua y un pequeño hilo se derramó corriendo entre los pelos de su barba de un par de días. La rodeó con su brazo derecho por debajo de sus nalgas y se inclinó para cargarla sobre su hombro. Ella dejó escapar un grito que ahogó rápidamente con sus manos para no despertar a los niños. Unos pasos seguros la sacaban de la sala y tomaron rumbo a su habitación.
Abrió la puerta, entraron y la sentó en el borde de la cama. Se volteó a cerrar la puerta, de regreso se desabotonaba la camisa sin apartar la vista de Carlota que aguardaba deseosa. Se desnudaron mutuamente. Su respiración marcando el ritmo de las caderas, la piel caliente, las uñas trazando sobre su espalda un lienzo. El éxtasis los visitó varias veces hasta que, exhaustos, entre jadeos en cima de las sábanas, se abrazaron y acurrucaron para caer presas del sueño.
Un ruido despertó a Carlota. Movió a su marido que dormía profundamente, y le dijo que iba a ver a los niños. No era la primera vez que Victoria caminaba a oscuras buscando el baño. Ángel quedó tumbado boca arriba en la cama, mirando el techo del cuarto. Encendió su lámpara de noche y miró el celular. Eran las 4:23 am, un grito lo sacó de un salto de la cama. Corrió hacia el cuarto de Miguel y al cruzar la puerta recibió un fuerte golpe en la cabeza.
El llanto entrecortado de su mujer lo devolvió en sí. Aturdido se incorporó pesadamente, la sangre le corría por el rostro. Miró la cama de su hijo. Se encontraba acostado, su delgado cuerpo simulaba el tallo de una flor, cuyos rojos pétalos partían de su cuello. En un rincón de la habitación estaba Carlota, abrazando la cabeza de Migue. Solo sollozaba cubierta de sangre mientras peinaba con sus dedos repetidamente los cabellos de su pequeño. Antes que pudiera procesar la escena, una voz le habló desde su espalda.
-Veo que ya despertaste, mejor, así nos divertiremos todos como una gran familia- Dijo el extraño con pasamontañas con una voz chillona e irritante.
Al voltearse, Ángel se encontró con una pistola apuntando a su frente. Victoria temblaba en camisón, atrapada contra el pecho del visitante y un cuchillo ensangrentado.
-Seré breve, quiero que le entregues a tu pequeña el mismo amor que a tu bella esposa. Al fin y al cabo, ella tiene que estar preparada para el mundo y quien mejor que tú- Explicó con frialdad. Luego añadió.
-Huele a lavanda, no hay manera de que no disfrutes con su apretado coño-
La despojó del camisón y usando el cuchillo deshizo sus braguitas, que cayeron entre sus pequeños y temblorosos pies. De un empujón la lanzó sobre la cama, junto al cuerpo de su hermano. Victoria podía sentir la calidez contra su brazo derecho, volteó su rostro en dirección a su padre con los ojos llenos de lágrimas.
-Ya perdiste un hijo, veremos si eres capaz de hacer lo necesario para salvarla-
Ángel miró a Carlota, estaba totalmente ensimismada en su rincón. Respiró profundamente, como si llevara horas sin hacerlo. Con el dorso de su mano apartó la sangre y el sudor frío que rodaba indiferente por su rostro. Se arrodilló para quedar a la misma altura que su desconsolada hija.
-Todo acabará pronto, no temas, las cosas saldrán bien, Vicky- Le dijo lo más convincente que pudo.
Se incorporó y bajó sus calzoncillos, los mismos que horas antes le quitara Carlota llena de felicidad y deseo. Poco tiempo después, dos disparos iluminaron la noche. El extraño levantó a la niña de la cama tirando de un hombro con fuerza. En sus tersos muslos se mezclaron sangre y semen.
-Esta hermosa flor es mi regalo para ti pequeña-
English
A flower for Victoria
The kitchen was filled with the laughter of Migue, who flew from one side to the other in his father's arms, dodging the chairs and furtive glances of his mother who was preparing dinner. Victoria was a little irritated by the fuss that distracted her from her homework, math had never been her strong suit. She had the table covered with books and notebooks. The first year of high school was not as easy as her friends tried to make it seem.
-Clear the table dear, I'm going to serve dinner- Carlota told her while she gestured to Ángel to help set the table.
The last light of sunset penetrated through the windows, bathing the faces of the family who were quietly talking about her day. A few hours of TV and games depleted Migue's energies that gave signs, in her black eyes, of a heavy and deep sleep. The same arms that ruffled his curls through the warm afternoon air carried him lovingly to his bed, tucked him in, and after a soft kiss on the forehead, Angel left the room in darkness.
He walked into the living room where her wife was relaxing on the sofa with a generous glass of wine in her hands. He approached her from behind her and with a slow movement brushed her brown hair away from her neck and started kissing him. A delicious chill shook Carlota, who tilted her head as she drew a mischievous smile on her face.
-Come with me to the room, love of her- she whispered in her ear before giving him a provocative bite on the ear and then another on her neck.
She took a long drink from the glass, placed it on the glass table and turned to Angel. She knelt on the couch so she was facing him. She grabbed him by her shirt and pulled her back, seeking to close the distance from her. The sweetness of the wine washed over her tongue and a small thread ran through the hairs of her beard from a couple of days. He wrapped her right arm around her under her buttocks and leaned down to carry her over her shoulder. She let out a scream which she quickly muffled with her hands so as not to wake the children. Sure footsteps took her out of the room and headed for her room.
She opened the door, they entered and sat her on the edge of the bed. He turned to close the door, on the way back he unbuttoned his shirt without taking his eyes off Carlota, who was waiting eagerly. They undressed each other. Her breathing marking the rhythm of her hips, her hot skin, her nails tracing a canvas on her back. Ecstasy visited them several times until, exhausted, panting on top of the sheets, they hugged each other and curled up to fall prey to sleep.
A noise woke up Carlota. She moved her husband who was fast asleep, and told him that she was going to see the children. It was not the first time that Victoria had walked in the dark looking for the bathroom. Ángel remained lying on his back on the bed, looking at the ceiling of the room. He turned on his bedside lamp and looked at his cell phone. It was 4:23 am, a scream jerked him out of bed. He ran to Miguel's room and when he crossed the door he received a strong blow to the head.
The broken weeping of his wife brought him back to himself. Stunned he sat up heavily, his blood running down his face. He looked at his son's bed. He was lying down, his thin body simulating the stem of a flower, whose red petals started from his neck. Carlota was in a corner of the room, hugging Migue's head. She just sobbed covered in blood as she repeatedly combed her fingers through her little one's hair. Before she could process the scene, a voice spoke to her from behind her.
-I see that you're awake, better, that way we'll all have fun as a big family- Said the stranger with balaclava with a squeaky and irritating voice.
Turning around, Angel found a gun pointed at his forehead. Victoria shivered in her nightgown, pinned against the visitor's chest and a bloody knife.
-I will be brief, I want you to give your little girl the same love as your beautiful wife. After all, she has to be prepared for the world and who better than you- She explained coldly. Then she added her.
-She smells like lavender, there's no way you won't enjoy it with her tight pussy-
He stripped her of her nightgown and using her knife undid her panties, which fell between her trembling little feet. With a push he threw her on the bed, next to the body of her brother. Victoria could feel the warmth against her right arm, she turned her face in her father's direction, her eyes brimming with tears.
-You already lost a son, we will see if you are able to do what is necessary to save her-
Ángel looked at Carlota, she was totally absorbed in her corner. She took a deep breath, as if she hadn't done it in hours. With the back of her hand he brushed away her blood and the cold sweat that rolled listlessly down her face. She knelt down to be level with her heartbroken daughter.
-Everything will be over soon, don't be afraid, things will be fine, Vicky," she told him as convincingly as she could.
He got up and lowered her underpants, the same ones that Carlota had taken off hours before full of happiness and desire. A short time later, two shots lit up the night. The stranger lifted the girl from the bed by pulling hard on one shoulder. Blood and semen mingled on her smooth thighs.
-This beautiful flower is my gift to you little one-
Me gustaría que sugieran temas o ideas que les gustaría que desarrollará, ya sea en forma de poesía o narración. Me despido feliz de escribir para ustedes.
Si están interesados en aprender sobre Trading les recomiendo el trabajo de @Trigolyn
I would like you to suggest themes or ideas that you would like me to develop, either in the form of poetry or narration. I say goodbye happy to write for you.
If you are interested in learning about Trading, I recommend the work of @Trigolyn
Puedes contactarme y seguir mi trabajo aquí
Contact me and follow my work here