What's your name? Asks a man with a stubborn voice. "I need you to remember the good things or I'll take everything you know the hard way, I do not mind taking the time with you, the truth is something I enjoy."
A man answers, "Why am I here?", Someone answers, "I can not help it, I'll come back later, and I hope for your sake that you're willing to talk." As the stubborn voice rises from the chair and walks slowly toward the door , not without first saying goodbye to a person tied to a bed and turn off the light.
Suddenly, one before someone left the room completely, he asked, "Tell me what date is today, please." Someone answers, January 21, 1985, closes the door behind him and hears the footsteps of those high-heeled shoes as he walks away through what appears to be a long corridor.
One that tries to remember, already had valuable information, was the year 1985, while trying to remember all past events began to have memories of what would be his past work. It was in a large office building, in the Department of Information and Dissemination, his job was to make his company look good, changing all the information giving the necessary nuances so that a fact that is obviously bad as beneficial for eyes of opinion publishes, Even if in the way it would have to change facts or invent figures.
A complicated job, he remembered that he had people in charge who helped him with the tedious task of changing facts, or twisting the truth into a fallacy, erasing the past and giving truth to an intricate chain of lies. then I thought of his house, a great house located in an exclusive place of the city, amenities were not lacking, even had employees who served in his own home. By this alone he did not prove anything, he still did not have a cell phone, some justification that could make him fall into the misfortune he was living.
But something was clear, so far his only way out was to know who the hell that is, that someone with leather bindings catches his body against a hard mattress.
A man could not remember his own name, so naming someone was a very difficult task, whose resolve was to try to remember who he was first, but after falling asleep details of his life began to come to his memory . He tried to remember what his employees called him, "Mr. Carvajal," although one last name was not enough, now that he thought he could not remember what his face was like, but he did not know why.
What would have to happen to someone to forget the shape of their face, some trauma? some drug in that moment the doubts and questions abound but the answers are still scarce, feel like the wall clock that adorns the room sounds in the silence and darkness.
Hypnotized by the sound of Tic tac tic tac, he knows that he will soon hear the heel of those leather shoes so he imagines it would be a long corridor, and he better respond. He began to remember tedious aspects of his working life, revising the versions of the facts that had to be changed and twisted so that everything was better in the company, especially remembered an urgent Memo to him, who said something like that
Memo no. 12406783 Addressee: Member internal circle number 474 Sergio Carvajal. Inform personal preparations Natalicio of the supreme leader, week of the supreme
Without many details to remember, the only valuable information was that his name was Sergio Carvajal, member of the inner circle number 474, apparently celebrates a feast at the birth of the supreme leader, although unable to remember his own face, think about that name to remember great cardboard images of a heroic character in a green suit and red beret who with a rifle proclaimed freedom.
He heard the footsteps down the hall, the sound of that heel in his memory.
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Inspiration: It's obvious