| Tales of Destruction, part II |
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| 03:32am 11/05/2003 |
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Once upon a time in the very heart of a metropolis under the city lights, there lived a very intelligent and marvelous lady. She had climbed the stairs of life that had lead her from the lowest places in New York downtown to the highest skycrape in Manhattan. Maria was a strong woman, one she had to be to be what she was now. In a way, she was the Cindarella of the City.
And for all she had learned, for all she had done in her short life, there were two people she thanked the most of all, and those were her parents. Her father, an unemployed alcaholic who left her mother when Maria was eleven and was found dead shortly after, and her poor mother, a waitress in a nearby bar, depressed and histerycal woman. The typical story around the block. What she learned from both of them was to never repeat their mistakes, with one little difference from the others who promised the same - when all the others slipped, she didn't. Never ever would she go back in the dirt. And also one last advice that her drunk mother had given her at the time when her father had left them: "True love doen't exist, my child. It only destroys your dreams and hopes, love takes everything from you and leaves nothing. Just look at me."
Years had passed, and this Maria remembered. The only men she spent time with were the ones who were able to get her one step higher than she was. Never did she feel neither love nor affection towards a man, yet never did Maria feel lonely or incomplete. And she climbed higher and higher.
Until once, there appeared at the great oak door of her elegant office Alex, a man with eyes so penetrating she found hard to resist his invitation. But she did, just as she rejected him every time he claimed his love for her. Just once, he told her that if she'd say she didn't love him and she wished him to leave her, he would. Then, Maria said: "I do love you, you know. But I will never be with you." And Alex stayed near her, proposing her every day, and every day she said no.
A year after, he died in an car accident. In his funeral, Maria stayed at the church a little bit longer, and asked the priest, just as she would have when she'd been a little girl. "My mother loved, and my father destroyed her life. I chose not to, and I have destroyed my life myself. It was me who was buried in that grave. So what is the answer?"
The priest looked at her sadly and said, "There aren't answers to everything, my child." And he left her at the alone in the church, the Cindarella of the city. |
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