The Piercing of a Soul

     Oh God! Another text message! Do people ever sleep in this world? I wonder that every sleepless night as I lay in my bed at 2:30 a.m receiving text messages, unable to fall asleep. Perhaps it’s the stress that’s preventing me to fall asleep, or it might just be the anxiety rushing through my veins at the thought of what I will be doing tomorrow. Yeah, that must be it. All the twisting and turning on my bed must be a sign that I really shouldn’t do something that I’m not sure of. But now isn’t the time think about it. My mind is set and there is no human power that will prevent me from doing what I have set in mind. Well, except maybe for my mom’s supernatural powers over the world. But you know what? Even she won’t be able to stop me. Perhaps if she knew what I plan to do tomorrow, she would undoubtedly stop me. To my advantage, she doesn’t and neither will she be finding out. At least not soon, I hope.

 
     I turn to the other side of my bed. I figure I should fall asleep any time soon. Either that, or the darkness in here will drive me crazier! Everyone in the room is now fast asleep, everyone except me. My grandma suddenly comes into the room and asks me if I’m fine. I don’t want to worry her. The pain behind her smile and the long roads marked on her soft face are enough evidence that she is tired. Coincidentally, she can’t sleep either and she invites me to join her with a cup of hot chocolate. I am more than delighted. We walk down the dark living room trying not to stumble with anything. We reach the door and as we get out, we make sure the door is locked before making our way to the kitchen. The kitchen is spacious welcoming all with a distinguishable scent of coffee. We make hot chocolate and we sit to have a talk, just like we did every day. As we make our way back, everything is pitch black. I almost get the sense of being in a closed box that has a small light bulb hanging. We are about five feet close to the door when suddenly time seemed to freeze. At that very moment, my grandma turned towards me and looked me into the eyes and softly said “I love you”. She leaned over to give me a hug and I felt her coming close to me. I could almost feel the warmth produced by her frail body and I could almost hear her heart beat. I closed my eyes as she was going to embrace me and right when her skin was about to touch my skin, she “Good morning New York! Today is June 30TH and temperatures will be rising! Asi es, so todas mis chicas lindas, take them shorts out of those closets! We got you with the best music here in la Mega 97.9!” I hear some song on the radio but I just turn my alarm off. I look at the time and realize that I have but only one hour and a half to get ready and meet with my boyfriend. Yes, today is the day! I feel the excitement all over my body. I take a shower as fast as possible trying to avoid writing small messages on the steamed mirror. I get dressed with something that will definitely cover my neck. Then I decide that maybe that’s not such a good idea. I take it off and wear a strapless shirt, making sure my neck is entirely free. I fix myself a little more, put my hair in a ponytail and run out of the house. 
I
     I enter the train with some sort of insecurity. My nails are barely visible from all the biting I did. I am well aware that I am only seconds away from reaching Roosevelt Avenue. I see my boyfriend waiting for me. At this point we are both eager to proceed with the plan. We walk down the avenue feeling stares of unknown people, mostly spanish. I almost get the impression of being hated by some of these people. But it can’t be; I don’t even know them!
We reach our destination. An old building in the middle of the busiest avenue. I see the “artwork” that has been splattered on the outside of this building recently. The door isn’t quite the biggest and the stairs aren’t quite the widest. As we walk up the stairs, a man bumps into us with great force. His muscular, tatooed arms make him feel intimidating and powerful. “Watch it ass holes!” he said. We continued up the 2nd floor where we approached the main desk. The guy looked somewhat friendly. But friendly as he was, I was unable to convince him that yes, I was old enough to get my neck pierced.

Betsy Michaca