THE LARK OF THE EAST. (Part IV)

Lark had a resentful expression on her face. Resentment that penetrated her skin, traveling rapidly through her veins until it reached her heart. Transforming her in a dramatic way, until she stopped looking like a girl and became a harpy capable of hurting with a vehement desire.

Her thoughts were lost within her emotions, drowning out her ability to reason logically; to discern right from wrong. Her eyes sparkled with rancor, reflecting in her pupils the images of what had happened when everyone in the classroom made fun of her. The memory of the scorn she received was like fuel that ignited the blaze of burning fire that she carried within.

The tip of the needle gleamed as it flapped in the air, then embedded itself in the child’s skin each time Lark struck him. The small red droplets that began to sprout from the boy’s arms further fueled Lark’s desire for revenge.

The physical pain that the boy began to feel from the blows received with the needle forced him to scream, in panic and fear when, opening his eyes, he observed Lark’s face.

The boy’s cries of pain echoed in Lark’s ears, forcing her to stop. When she saw the expression of fear that the boy had, Lark felt as if a bucket full of cold water with ice fell on her, turning off her fiery need for revenge.

The sensation Lark experienced caused a sudden change of emotions throughout her body. In that instant a numbing cold enveloped her, remembering her own suffering when her feet were burned. Lark felt herself compress amid, what felt like, millions of needles that lacerated her skin. Then she began to tremble, unable to control her movements. Her breathing stopped for a moment. A sharp pain shot through her chest, her vision clouded, and her ears stopped hearing all the sounds around her.

When the boy noticed that Lark stopped beating him, he began to cry calling for his mother. Hearing the boy calling for his mother, Lark woke up from the nervous breakdown that pressed down on every inch of her skin. She regained her emotional stability and was aware of what she had done. As she watched the boy’s injured arms, Lark’s heart filled with guilt. Sadness reflecting in her eyes, Lark started running as fast as she could. Without stopping, she threw the needle with the thread to the ground and began to head towards her father’s house.

When Lark got home, Hilda had the living room door open. Upon entering the house, Lark closed the door and secured it with a wooden stick from the inside to feel protected and prevent someone else from entering the house.

When Hilda saw her, she approached her, “What’s wrong Lark?”

Lark didn’t respond, she just threw herself into Hilda’s arms and began to cry. Hilda held Lark’s head with her two hands and pulling it away from her chest.  She begged her, “Tell me what happened.”

“I am very bad! I’m as bad as the Sombrerón. ” Lark said between sobs. Then with a voice slowed by tears, she told Hilda what happened.

“Are you happy that you hurt the child? Do you want to hit him again, next time you see him? Are you enjoying what you did, or do you feel sorry for your actions? ” Hilda asked.

“I’m sorry,” replied Lark. “I don’t know how to explain what happened, but I don’t want to hurt anyone again.”

Hilda hugged the little Lark. They walked over to the couch, sat down, and while Lark kept crying, Hilda told her, “We all make mistakes. Sometimes we act out of character, causing harm to other people. But the mistakes we make do not define us as good or bad. It is our actions, wishes, thoughts, and choices that can lead us down the wrong path. But if we have the courage to face the consequences of what we do, repent, and correct the damage we have done, we can bring peace to our hearts. As we discover that anger never brings anything good, we learn to control ourselves. You are not bad. You are confused and hurt, the people who judge, despise, hurt and make fun of you… they do it because they do not know what you have suffered, they have no idea of ​​the great pain you have faced. Do not let the guilt you feel for hurting that child define your future and chain you into the wrong way of thinking. May this experience help you build a strong character. Wait until tomorrow to apologize. I will be by your side to give you courage and so that you know that you are not alone. “

Lark’s eyes expressed gratitude for Hilda’s words, when surprisingly someone began to knock on the door, giving strong blows to the door with their hand. “! Hilda open the door for me! Where is the favorite of the Sombrerón? That demon hurt my son! “

Clearly it could be discerned that the woman was very angry, because the knocks she gave to the wooden door with her hand were very strong. The cries of the woman began to make little Lark very nervous, as she began to tremble with fear.

The woman kept screaming, “I come out here miserable! I’m going to pull your hair out. Hilda, open the door for me. What the favorite of the Sombrerón did to my son, I’m going to charge you for it. Hilda, come out so that I can make you toothless too! “

The woman was still pounding on the door as Hilda lulled a crying and inconsolably to sleep on her legs. Suddenly the knocking on the wooden door stopped and a warning shout was heard, “On the street I will meet you one day, and I will teach you to respect other people’s children.”

When silence spread in the air, Hilda whispered in Lark’s ear, “Tomorrow will be another day. Perhaps tomorrow the boy’s mother will be willing to listen to you. Remember that tomorrow you will have the opportunity to ask for forgiveness. Tomorrow you can make amends for your mistake and hope will shine again in your heart. Try to calm down today, little Lark. “

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: