Tomboy

I'm a girl.

Yes, I love cars. Specially Bugatti's.


Yes, I like sports. No, I do not like sports because of the guys who play soccer.


Yes, I like swearing. Swearing is the easiest and fastest way to reduce pain.


No, I don't like pop. Yes, I love punk, grunge, alternative rock, indie, soul and blues.


Yes, I love fashion. Long live McQueen.


No, I don't like pink. Yes, I love red, blue, green, white and black.


No, I am not going to be nice with you if you are not nice with me. We both deserve respect.


Yes, I cry.

Today was a sad day for me. Unfortunately I cannot tell why. I don't want to, because writting it would be like accepting what occured, and that's something I want to avoid.

She stared at the overjoyed girls in the corridor talk to each other, like if they were so important that everyone in the building had to hear their infantile yellings. She glared at them, thinking all of the darkest desires she hid in her head. Her swelled brain was aching of jealousy.

Why did they have such wonderful lives? Why can't I have one too? Why...?

She shudded. She had felt something in her ear, like a gentle touch. She spin around and looked at who had done that.

"I told you not to be obvious!" she whispered. He stared at her with a smile.

"Sorry, hon, had to appear"

She looked around, checking that no one was watching her.

"Go away. It's not a good time"

He frowned and got closer.

"Do you realize you're asking an hallucination to dissappear?"

She froze while he faded. His last sigh was full with pain, sadness and incomprehension. Why do I have to go?, he thought, but before he could even articulate the first letter she had dissappeared from his dream.

He woke up. This was the hundredth time he had dreamed with her. She was beautiful, dark eyes like coal; soft, long hair; brunette; and also insecure.

He knew he was real. But she thought he wasn't. And he thought she wasn't, either. She's just another dream. She mumbled once that she loved him. That was insane. A dream could love a real person, or a guy could love a dream?

What if...? That was a frecuent question in his mind. What if we both were real? What if we actually met? Would she love him? Or would she be afraid of him? Would she scream and flee?

He sighed. He would be at home all day just to dream about her.

If only dreams came true.