I always wanted to understand why I existed in this world, I thought about my friendships, family relationships, problems, my interests, the interests of others, I thought about each situation and I felt that somehow I was different from them, but in what? Perhaps I was a little introverted but that was not why I stopped dreaming, that was not why I stopped being happy, I felt good with everything I did, however, the passage of time made me give in to this form of automated thinking, the structured and "correct" system proposed by my father and teachers invaded my mind, every day my life became more empty and monotonous in some way.

         I remember that it was from my twelve years that I began to see everything from a different point of view, somehow, achieving that.

— ¡Eliana! —I heard the professor scream.— Pay attention to the class!

         I was distracted, once again flying in thought at the very moment when the teacher was asking the class something. I had nothing to say because in my notebook I did nothing but draw, and the teachers didn't like that very much.

— As for this. —said Professor Fred taking my notebook.— I have no choice but to take it away from you, Miss Mendez.

— But it's mine! —I shouted, trying to pull my notebook out of his hands.

— I must remind you that this is a university, Miss Mendez, not a kindergarten. —he replied, taking the discussion for granted.

         Around me everything was laughter, I felt stupid sharing in a place like that, in my rage I took what was left of my stuff and ran out of the classroom, the professor shouted something but I didn't give time to listen to him, I didn't want to know anything more about that university for today.

         Outside, the streets and avenues became a visual entertainment in which people, buildings, structures and animals calmed my condition, it was a good way to calm everything I felt. On an old street that I couldn't remember the name of, I saw a sign in reddish and copper tones reciting "Delorian Coffe and Library", the place seemed so familiar to me, so familiar that I could remember my grandmother bringing me here a couple of times. I remember that when we arrived we would curl up on an old sofa and have a cup of chocolate while reading a good book, it was special; at that time I think the only person who could understand me was my grandmother.

— Welcome!

         Without being aware of it, I found myself inside the establishment, I didn't know how many seconds or minutes I had been there but I was beginning to return to reality. It was just as I remembered, an old bookcase full of books, a set of green furniture that matched perfectly with the opaque color of the wood on the floor and the landscape pictures on the walls, plus the armchairs at the bar were still there, waiting for those people who just stopped by for a snack. In its simplicity it had a certain charm.

— May I help you, miss? —asked a young man at the bar.

— No, thank you. —I replied. — I was just coming by to make sure of something.

         I left the establishment and continued walking home, it was stupid to be there, my grandmother had died several years ago and the simple fact of returning now alone would not give me back those days. Already in the neighborhood I imagined the response of my parents, it was inevitable to expect a scolding from them for having missed classes, surely Professor Fred had made the complaint over the phone.

— Where you been?! —shouted my father, approaching as he heard the front door. — Why did you miss class?! Professor Fred told me what you did!

— Please leave Mauro... —said my mother taking him by the arm.

— Always the same! —he replied, pulling out of my mother's hands.— Every time she do something, it's always the same!

         I ignored the situation, the monotony in my father's words no longer had any effect on me, I only climbed the steps, turning a deaf ear to what was already becoming an argument between mother and father. As I entered my room, I observed its walls, which despite being white were covered with drawings, images, doodles, words, full of ideas and the essence of what I really am and what I really want, what it represented.

         In a notebook I began to recreate that place I had visited, those opaque tones, that bookcase so old and full of dust but which in turn possessed so much life, preserving every detail, even the slightest tear of the wood that I remembered in my head represented it in lines, even the same vague image of that woman who understood me so much accompanied by a smiling little girl who captured it in shades and paper, the drawing distracted me from reality transporting me to a little-known artistic world. The world that I really want, the world that perhaps I should recover.

         I opened my eyes and watched my mother get up to leave the room. Had it been a dream? I took the notebook that lay on the floor, I leafed through the pages and hoped to find everything I had captured there, my happiness was not a simple dream it could not be, a second later I found that drawing in which I tried so hard and smiling a little I hung it near the image of an old friend, it was strange to see how there was a link between the two images. I got ready to bathe and prepare myself to go for a walk before going to the "prison" of studies at the University of Law.

       The morning of Monday my mother decided to talk a little about the festivities for my birthday, I just wanted to be in my room drawing and listening to music, but it was difficult when your parents decided to invite family and acquaintances to your home.

— I know mom… —I replied.— But, you can never give me the gift I really want.

       My mother left what she was doing and came to the table to talk to me.

— What do you mean? —my mother asked a little worried.

— Art, mom. —I replied. — Art is what I really like, I don't want to go on in that university, I hate the laws, I hate those professors, for me that's what it is.

— Silence Eliana. —my mother replied without giving time to say another word.— You know your father wouldn't let you give up that career for simple artist dreams.

— But that's what I really want! —I screamed as I got out of my chair.— Have you ever seen my work? Do you even know if I draw well or if what I think is wrong?

       My mother looked at me in silence without saying a word, my eyes were already filled with tears, I was afraid, I felt an emptiness in my heart and Phantom's words echoed once again in my head, I had to escape. I took my backpack and ran out of the room.

—Darling!—I heard my mother screaming in an attempt to stop me, I didn't care, I was angry.

       I walked and walked, walking through streets, passing avenues, crossing sidewalks, until I reached smaller and smaller alleys that surrounded me. I wanted to abandon everything and start from scratch, but I was afraid, afraid of not knowing where to go, afraid of what they will say. My family; in a way I missed her.

— Come on in, we have the greatest variety of spices!

       Across the place you could see everything from groceries to the widest variety of handcrafted jewelry that covered the streets. Suddenly I found myself in a small suburban market.

— Beautiful, isn't it? —said a voice after me.— The majority of the people do not usually frequent these places, more than everything is seen here people of the lower and lower middle class, in addition to one or another tourist curious lover of the craft.

— I escaped from mi house Phantom.... —I replied.— I can't stand these feelings anymore, it hurts.

— Ummmmmm. —Phantom took his chin with his left hand.— You see that?

— What's that? —I replied, trying to identify what it said.

— That's it! —he said once again, pointing to a boy playing near a mountain of potatoes.

       In a matter of seconds the mountain collapsed and the child was covered with vegetables, the crying did not take ten seconds to manifest and the laughter of many was heard around.

— It doesn't matter where. —continued Phantom. — It doesn't even happen, you always have to smile and move on.

       The little one still rising from the ground, stopped crying and ran smiling around people, not even the owner of the place had the audacity to admonish such an innocent creature.

— Eli. —Phantom said. — If we had the luxury of being enclosed in shadows, we would simply have a non-existent existence, full of hatred, fear and sadness.

— But how do we do it? —I asked, even though I didn't fully understand the situation. - How to fulfill my dreams when I am not even able to face my...

— Fight. —he said, interrupting me and holding both hands. — No matter how difficult the road, you must always fight. After all, life is what you want it to be.

       I couldn't stand it and I lay on his shoulder to cry, a mixture of feelings and mixed emotions invaded my body, somehow I already knew what to do and how to do it. Phantom had always been there, accompanying me from the first moment, showing me that life is nothing more than a simple board game, in which each movement that generated destiny was the one that guided the steps of each piece, but what if one day that piece decided to move by itself? What if the reality of things was not strictly that? Everything was there, only I never had the will to understand and apply it.

— Thank you, Phantom. —I said, after holding him tight.

— I don't know what you mean, little Eli. —he replied.

— It's time to go back...

— yes…

       The afternoon passed quickly, I didn't attend classes that day and I got ready to plan how everything would be from now on, how I would tell my parents what I really wanted and what I would do if I didn't have their support, Phantom disappeared again, I invited him to my birthday, but I wasn't sure if he would attend this time, I never did it for as long as I can remember.

       In the days next to my celebration I took charge of drawing a great picture, in it, it represented the force and vitality of everything that for me meant freedom, I knew that with this my parents would have to understand what my true dream was.

— Welcome!

       My mother was already in the door receiving some acquaintances of the family when I prepared to be impeccable to go down to greet, Phantom still did not appear, I would have wanted him to observe the moment in which he decided once and for all and in front of all my family, the future that I really want.

— Attention, everyone, please! —I raised my voice and asked the guests to listen to me for a moment.— I want to ask everyone to pay attention to what I have to say today.

       My mother and father stared at me with a smile covering their faces and hoping perhaps that I would talk about university subjects at the Faculty of Law, but the surprise they were expecting was even greater.

— I want to thank you all for coming. —continued. — I never usually do this kind of thing and my shy personality does not allow it, but today I must be honest with myself and tell you the desire I really have for this and the other days that will make up my life.

       There I was, taking the biggest step in my life, my father changed his smile from one second to the next for a face full of anguish and doubt about what he was going to say, while my mother was about to accept and assimilate those words that I was about to let go.

— Art is what really fills me, life itself is based on art, it is the source of all creation and composes almost everything that surrounds us.

— I'm sorry, gentlemen... —said my father trying to interrupt me. — She's been a little upset these days.

— No dad! —I say. — It's time for you to listen to me!

       My father, grieved, took a step back and was ready to listen to my complaints while he covered his face with his right hand, everything went well, I had to continue with my task, people watched attentively to my words, surprised and with a seriousness that filled the atmosphere of an almost sepulchral silence.

— The last few days I was in charge of making a work that represents what is most important and sacred to me. —I said, bringing up a painting covered by a brown gabardine.— And today I want to show all of you, and especially my parents, that the representation of freedom is present in it and that there was also a special person in charge of showing me that I can follow my dreams.

       With force pull of the fabric, which falling slowly let see every brushstroke, every color, every texture, everything I worked for was demonstrated in this precise moment.

— That's why. —I said, to the sound that I was looking at the stunned and impressed faces of those present.— I want to thank my friend Phantom for being there when everyone else turned their backs on me.

       I walked among the people until I reached the main door of the house, around me I saw the faces of everyone and their great interest in the painting.

— Wait! —my father took me by the arm and hugged me against his body.— I'm sorry, Eliana.…

       I looked up and saw my father's face: tears, tears that came out of that rough and rude face that had never arranged an apex of emotion towards me.

— I'm sorry. —said my father kissing me on the head. — I'm sorry I never understood all this that you are passionate about, I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you wanted, I'm sorry I wasn't the ideal father.

— It's not your fault.. —folded up.— I was the one who didn't know how to express myself from the beginning.

       A smile was drawn on his face, indicating that his words were sincere. The atmosphere was filled with applause and cries from all and my mother joined in to embrace me with my father..

— From now on, it'll be different.

— Yes, it will...

       Together with my family I spent the rest of the celebration talking and showing many other artistic works of my own, apparently one of my father's friends loved this medium and had good contacts to enter the area of Visual Arts at the University of Vigo without the need for equivalences or presentation of any test. The situation was beginning to change and all night I saw no signs of who was my greatest mentor in taking this big step.

— Daughter, this letter came to you.

       A month later I received an anonymous letter reciting "For my favorite artist, Eli," when I opened it and read just a little of what it said I couldn't resist the urge to cry, but I chose to smile and dry my tears, I knew he wouldn't want to see me like this, crying like a fool, wasting time on useless feelings.

       I took the gift that came in a small wrapper inside the envelope, I swore to follow my dream and never waver, from that moment I was living for both of them, carrying that message of freedom high and high. "Art deserves to be heard as the purest expression of the soul..."

       I once again closed my sketchbook and staring at that beautiful painting I had drawn a month ago, I was immersed in a dream with the image of who was my teacher, mentor and above all, my best friend.