Beatriz was sitting on the couch, waiting for the glass of juice that brought Andrew to ease tensions somewhat. The juice tasted strange situation in which the homeowner apologized because it had been opened before leaving and, probably, that would have affected their composition. Neither was able to utter a single word except for the explanation of the bad taste of juice, "looking for excuses to run his eyes every time they happen to coincide at some point the existence inaccurate. Everything was as quiet as if the room was empty. Andrew, mechanically, took a broom and began sweeping the tiles, in the eyes of his estranged companion, who remained silent, staring into the glass of juice.
not this glass of juice will have something, I do not think so. It's just paranoia, it's just shock. Is it true what I've seen the entry? Have I felt presences within this floor? Is not part of the insanity of drinking coffee with a guy who, in itself, and it looks very strange? The juice is something strange, I insist. But how I can explain that which has appeared in the windows? How to explain the feeling of persecution, blood, dying bodies, bodies with life? Albacete is converted into a strange world since I met this guy. Ideally, I left this place as soon as possible and hiciese as if he had ever known. Yes, it seems that this is the best option. I'll finish this and I'll never to return again to become one more person on the street, someone to share studies and nothing else. I must go away from here. This place smells funny, it smells like ... no, it is impossible, could not be, is not so crazy, but it smells like closure. Yes, that's, to moisture, rot. Something is rotting somewhere. I must go much before. Juice knows very bad, why? Do the components are of such quality as stated on the label? The juice is delicious, it's the best I've tasted in my life. I think I could ... stay a little longer. After all, Andrew has been very friendly, a great friend. Shall stay here. But what good juice! That smell of decay, but clean. Yes, all shiny.
Andrew sat down and threw the broom against the wall. He opened the window and watched the Greek flag was in the building next door. He remembered the time he had seen the first major thunderstorm in Albacete, that it looked like the end of the world. But then discovered that the sound of rain is the same everywhere, though the magic itself which depends on the perspective. Beatriz observed that sat on the couch, the glass in his hand was a woman so beautiful, so attractive and that, had finally managed to bring to his apartment. Only be satisfied.
- "Beatrice? Have you had a good time with me?
- Well, what happens to you, man! If even you changed your accent.
- I do not know, are things of the moment.
- 're pretty crazy, Andrew. Everything around you, what happens to you. Your life. How I can know that you trust?
- Well, we are entering the field of interest.
- I do not understand what you mean, "Beatriz began to bother.
- Never mind, never mind.
Beatriz felt suddenly dizzy. When standing, he felt he could not, that everything was moving. The glass fell from his hands and broke into the ground before his face pale and nauseous that he watched with bewilderment everywhere. Andrew, mechanically, took the broom and picked up the remains of the vessel had been on the tiles, without another word. The windows were open at the time that Beatrice fell on the couch, sweating and shivering cold.
- I've noticed that my interest in you is far beyond friendship. Right, Betty?
- Andrew, you're confusing things. I leave here.
- What state? You're crazy, wait until you spend a little. Meanwhile, listen to me.
- No! Your voice makes me even more headache. When I leave here, I will not anymore. Do you understand? Never again.
- course, that if you can get out of here.
Andrés progressed towards the kitchen, leaving Beatrice in the chair, writhing in pain. This guy is crazy, I want to kill. He has put some of my juice is safe. Is evident. I feel terrible, I do not understand how he could get to do this and as I have not noticed his intentions. From the outset that I have realized his folly, but I thought it was true. Fatal error! The room door was closed as I walked into the kitchen and kept the juice box inside the fridge. Closed bottle cap with white pills and put it in the pantry: here has not gone nothing. He returned to his room down the hall, watching from the door, her visit was in the same place, in silence, though rather uneasy. It was strange how he achieved his goal of bringing her to his apartment.
- "Beatrice? Are you okay?
- What happened? Why am I here?
- Quiet, quiet. You've fallen asleep on the couch, it's all good. Want a drink?
- No, no. I'm fine. I just want to go home.
- Why do you want to go?
- Did I'm going crazy?
- How would I know if I say what is happening to you.
- Ah ... then ... it was only a dream. Damn! I do not understand.
Beatrice stood up and his shoes stepped on an object that seemed strange. Lowered his gaze and fell silent, waiting for Andrew was to another place. I smiled during that time, assuming that nothing happened, but without leaving your site. Was tense and cold as a stone. A strange noise came from one of the rooms.
- What was that? Asked frightened, realizing immediately that it was time to get rid of the homeowner for a moment.
- You Stay here, okay? I'll go see.
cold air flooded the walls for a moment, seemed filled with ice. Beatriz noticed steam coming out of his breathing and temperature change was significant: it was spring in Albacete, when temperatures well above the ice. Under his shoe was the handle of a knife, whose blade was under the couch. Looked around to make sure that Andrew would not come and then reached down to remove it from there.
Andrés
crawled down the hall toward the bedroom where he came noise. He noted that his own bedroom was completely disorganized: the desk in the middle all rolled blankets against the wall, broken pillow, his shoes thrown everywhere and shed clothes on the floor. His notes were all torn and wrinkled: the open window gave way to a cold breeze in the air kept some of its objects. Admitted quickly to close the window, when the door of his room closed. He felt a sharp stab in his side that he was startled. The heartbeat is accelerated when he saw that the window is fogged. His shirt was torn product of the sting, however, had no wound on the skin. Bumped into objects that were scattered on the tiles, as he walked to the door. In the blink of an eye, prevented him from leaving the desktop. Scared, looked around and ran to the drawer of his desk: the knife was not in place.
- What the hell is this doing here?
was not as simple to remove from its place: it seemed to have been in place for some time and product of the weight of the sofa, he seemed perfectly accommodated. After pulling for some time, Beatrice was able to get the knife and take it in their hands. Let go, afraid, seeing that it was bloody. Only then he realized that the sofa in the bottom, had spots of blood.
- was you, Jaime.
- Stop blaming the rest of your mistakes.
- was you!
- No.
- Let out of here!
- Why? Why your outbursts attacking someone else and then you should seek him out when he was only a moment of chaos?
- You should be on my side.
Jaime appeared in front of Andrew. His body bloody and wounded even expelling the same stench of death with whom he had met when they return home after this event. Andrew saw him, he felt that he remembered the time that had gone walking down Almirante Montt, heading to his home, without thinking that he would meet with a show like that. Although he did remember, and it weighed a lot, the fact that he left without having had time to talk with him and apologize for the last discussion.
- Andrés, cut with LESER. I told you no.
- All you do is think of you. You are a fucking selfish.
- I told you I could not thinking. I am full of important things, I have to choose what I study ridge and you do not help me at all. The selfish are you. And more over, concerned. I just want the money. Keep your fucking money! I do not care.
- So you're not going to fix things.
- andate. I have other things to do.
- You did not come to talk like that!
Andrew moved quickly to his brother and hit him violently against the wall. The blow shook the room completely. Jaime looked into his eyes, afraid, and that look he felt a strange sense of guilt. However, pushed him again, even harder.
- What? Now you're going to kill me?
- 're a fucking asshole.
turned away from his brother and left the area, hitting the wall with his fist. Walked down the hall, angry, but then stopped. It could not have beaten his brother never had a discussion come to blows by none. Quickly, he took off his shoes and walked in socks to hear that Jaime did not walk back to his room. He came to the door and watched in silence, his brother was on the floor, crying. On his back, he had the mark of the blow which had struck the wall, bleeding. He walked away quickly, regretting all he had done. Jaime sat on the desk, his back to the door. Normally, your desk was in another position, but her brother had changed the time of ordering the house. I was so embarrassed by the discussion that he had no courage to change anything.
- 're a fucking asshole, Jaime.
his brother's image faded slowly, as the room was flooded, increasingly, the freezing cold air to the walls. Andrew was on the ground, trying to get rid of all the clutter of objects strewn around the room.
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