《Whispers》 The Decision It was a dark and cold night. The rain fell, like tears from the sky, driving away the wandering souls in the vicinity, who sought shelter from it. Lightning illuminated the sky, as if the heavens were breaking apart for moments. I was wandering through the streets of the city, in an area with no pavement, just dirt. I was visiting the city of Iquitos, to reminisce about old times, but I just started walking, aimlessly. I had no one to visit either, since I... I didn¡¯t really know anyone who lived here. For that reason, I walked and walked until I reached where I was now. It was a somewhat remote area, but I wasn¡¯t afraid. Why would I be? But... That doesn¡¯t matter. Now I was standing in front of a small house, but it seemed to have a somewhat large backyard, with a variety of trees, surrounded by large, faded white fences. Its roof, already noticeably rusty, showed the centuries it seemed to have endured. The blue of its fa?ade was already somewhat faded, neglected. It even had scars from torn posters and graffiti marks. It was as if it could remember, or rather, as if it was telling a story of what had happened to it. I stood still, not to observe the deplorable state of that house, but... For what was behind its already ancient wooden door. In that house lived an elderly man. He lived alone. He had been divorced for a little over a decade due to... Certain problems. And at that moment, he was even having financial problems due to the debts he had, and because of his addiction to alcohol. But... I didn¡¯t focus only on him. Rather, on the other creature that lived there: a dog, perhaps around twelve years old. His name was Puricho. His presence caught my attention because... He was in a deplorable state. I noticed this and quickly proceeded to enter that house. ¡°Hmmm... At least it has a ceiling.¡± I thought as I walked through the hallway towards the garden. When I got there, I could see him more clearly: he was malnourished, he seemed not to have eaten for a couple of days even. He had several wounds, and I noticed an unhealed wound on his neck as well, this was because he had fought the other day with a dog bigger than him, and he had barely managed to escape. The rain was beginning to stop. At that moment, Puricho was resting. He was under a pile of wood, planks, and other stacked things, but they provided some cover. Suddenly, Puricho noticed my presence, and he started barking at me. ¡°Agh!¡± I could hear the old man groan. He was watching TV. Since the rain was now easing, he could clearly hear Puricho barking at me. It was annoying to him. He looked for his flashlight, went out to the garden to see why he was barking so much, and at what. He thought someone had broken in, but... When he shone the flashlight, he found no one but Puricho, who was barking at nothing. ¡°Ugh! Shut up, stupid dog!¡± Now that it was raining much less than before, the man approached Puricho and kicked him so that the dog would shut up, and he did, he fell silent. Puricho whimpered in pain. It was painful for me to witness that, but... I couldn¡¯t do anything. I was just a... Spectator. (Illustration of myself) After kicking him, the man left. I approached the dog and sat down next to him. ¡°Sorry...¡± That was the only thing I said to him. My voice was that of a kid. We both remained silent for a long time. ¡°You can leave, right? So... Why do you let that man treat you like that?¡± ¡°But he is my owner.¡± Puricho replied to me, still whimpering. ¡°I love him. I know he hurts me, and I understand. Sometimes I do bad things, and that¡¯s why. Despite that, I still remember the man who took me in with his wife. I remember those years with so much fondness. They fed me well, bathed me, gave me gifts. Everything changed when the lady left, and he became mean... But I know deep down, he loves me, he loves me very much. I can¡¯t leave him. My time is coming, and I don¡¯t want to leave him alone...¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°That... Is quite sad, honestly.¡± I replied to him. ¡°The person you knew no longer exists. Your loyalty is... Admirable, and your love is pure, I know... But love is also knowing when to let go. You can¡¯t change his behavior. I know it¡¯s not easy to accept that, and even less so for someone like you, but it¡¯s the truth.¡± He looked at me and lowered his head. He seemed sad. ¡°You don¡¯t deserve what he does to you. No matter how much it affected him, acting like that is not what he should do. And as for you, you need to learn to love yourself. You deserve to live happily and safely, and enjoy the time you have left. You deserve a home where you are treated well.¡± I stood up and added: ¡°It¡¯s time for you to find a new home, one where you are truly loved.¡± Puricho didn¡¯t respond to me. He just looked at me, but... In his gaze, I noticed a spark. He had made a decision he hadn¡¯t had before. The rain had completely stopped, and so, I spent the night with him. We didn¡¯t say a single word to each other. The dawn arrived, and like the artist it is, painted the sky in tones of pink and gold, marking the beginning of a new day. Puricho¡¯s owner opened the street door so he could go out, and he did, as always. But... Puricho was leaving never to return. I accompanied him. We walked for several hours through the streets of the city. The houses, the buildings... It was like a sea of vibrant colors. People were going about their daily activities, and the mototaxis were buzzing through the streets like insects. It was a great harmonious hustle. But... Puricho seemed exhausted and weak, but he kept going. He was determined, it seemed. He had understood that living as he had lived until now wasn¡¯t good, and it caused him pain and suffering, which he didn¡¯t deserve. Then, when we reached a corner with a traffic light, Puricho couldn¡¯t go any further and fell to the ground. He lay down. He whimpered. I watched him. I couldn¡¯t do anything more for him. Due to the situation, a young man, who was passing by, saw him and hurried over to see him. ¡°Oh, God! What happened to you, buddy?¡± the young man said. ¡°Come here.¡± Without thinking twice, he picked him up. He didn¡¯t care that Puricho was smelly, or dirty, or wounded. He did it, ignoring all of that. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be better soon.¡± he said, smiling. Puricho felt something he hadn¡¯t felt in years. He had felt affection, compassion. The young man, whose name was Adrian, got into a mototaxi and took him to a veterinarian. Once there, they treated him and fed him, and the young man paid for everything. Adrian stayed with him throughout the entire recovery process. A couple of days passed, and Puricho left the veterinarian with Adrian. He was much better now. As they were leaving, Adrian said to him: ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t let anything bad happen to you from now on.¡± he said, while patting his head. ¡°Ah, but... You need a name. Hmm... Now you¡¯ll be Max, how about that?¡± Puricho, who was now called Max, wagged his tail happily in agreement. And they left. Puricho, who was now called Max, had finally found a better family, who would treat him well for the rest of his life. Knowing Adrian and his family, that was to be expected. As they rode away in a mototaxi, Max turned to look at me, and I waved goodbye to him with my right hand. As for his previous owner, he was waiting for Puricho to return, but... He never would. He had squandered the love his dog offered him with that cruel treatment, with his indifference. He missed him, but there was nothing he could do now. He didn¡¯t value him, and now he was gone. The same thing had happened with his ex-wife. Puricho¡¯s absence now served as a reminder that all actions have consequences, whether good or bad. Perhaps he would learn something from this to become a better person, or perhaps not. That no longer concerned me. And now, maybe what I did will have consequences, as I shouldn¡¯t intervene in these things, but... I don¡¯t care. I helped someone, and that¡¯s what matters. There are those who claim that good and evil don¡¯t exist, that they are just ways in which human beings face the world, to gain personal benefit in one way or another, depending on how they grew up or the situations they¡¯ve lived through. But no, I know that good exists, and that humanity, despite all the conflicts it generates, despite all its problems, will one day achieve it: to do good simply because it¡¯s the right thing to do. That¡¯s what I hope for, that¡¯s my conviction. Secret of the Library I worked every afternoon in that mansion¡¯s library. It had a gloomy appearance with its large Gothic windows, giving the place a sense of mystery but also a certain melancholy. The place had a somewhat unsettling reputation. The owner was a wealthy man who, with all his riches, had amassed a wide variety of books. From cookbooks and novels to books of sorcery, bestiaries, and grimoires. Because of the latter, the townspeople feared him, but the man didn¡¯t seem like a bad person to me. In fact, he felt like a father figure. I had known him for about half a decade, and he always helped me with whatever I needed. Thanks to him, I was also able to go to the capital to study at university. I was collecting books and from the window, I could see the heavy rain with the flash of lightning faintly illuminating the surroundings. Despite working, the owner allowed me to read some books when I had free time, and now I was reading something to distract myself. Then, a lightning bolt struck near the place, and the ground shook violently. The loud rumble of the event left me somewhat disoriented and deafened. When I came back to my senses, I saw that some books had fallen due to the impact. Because of the mess caused by the lightning, I set out to pick up the books that had fallen from the top of the shelves, but first, I went to find a ladder. And so, I did, I picked up the books, two at a time, and climbed to place them back where they belonged. As I climbed to place the last books, I noticed something strange. Where those books had been, at the top of the shelf, there was some sort of door, or at least it appeared to be one. The old wallpaper was so worn that it revealed it, as if that part could be opened in some way. I placed the books elsewhere and tried to open that little door, but it was impossible. There was no handle or anything to pull it open. I could still hear the sound of rain falling like tears from the sky. Tears from some entity superior to us, perhaps observing human actions, either enraged or saddened by the future that lay ahead, tearing the sky with blinding flashes and deafening roars. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I looked for ways to open that little door. My biggest curiosity was to know what was behind it. Finally, I managed to open it. I used a wooden ruler that was on the table where I was about to read. When I opened it, out of nowhere, I felt a horrible chill. But there was "nothing," it was so brightly lit that I could only see white everywhere. Despite this, I felt something calling me. Urging me to enter and move forward. I had the feeling that I shouldn¡¯t, but what else could I do if curiosity had gotten the best of me? I had to know what was in there. So, I proceeded to enter through that radiant tunnel. As I entered, I crawled. The floor and walls were completely smooth, and somehow, the tunnel began to enlarge, but it was imperceptible to the eye because everything was white. How was this possible? Moments ago, there were walls on either side, but now there weren¡¯t. Now I could stand, and I couldn¡¯t feel any walls nearby. I looked back, and everything was the same. I was confused, and it seemed like there was no way to return. But, for some strange reason that I couldn¡¯t understand, I continued on my way to who knows where, seeking to find something that I didn¡¯t even know what it was. As I advanced, I had strange sensations. I felt like I was being watched by someone or something, and I felt horrible tingling in my limbs. I was feeling exhausted, my vision was blurring, perhaps from dehydration. I had no idea how many hours I had been wandering aimlessly. But I couldn¡¯t stop, I had to reach the end, I couldn¡¯t rest without knowing what was at the end. Finally, there was a change, the place began to darken. Slowly, the place was finally engulfed in darkness. I couldn¡¯t even see myself, and I hadn¡¯t brought any lamp, but I kept walking, straight ahead, always forward. The sensations of being watched, and the pain grew stronger, I could barely breathe, I was out of air. I was walking with the last bit of strength I had left. I bumped into something. It was a door. I knew it because it seemed to have its own glow, clearly visible in that deep, cold darkness. With my remaining strength, I grabbed the handle and opened it. When I looked through the door, I couldn¡¯t believe what I was seeing. It was something majestic. Something I had never seen before, a celestial scene that exceeded all my expectations. Vivid, bright colors mixed with ethereal shapes. A sensation of perfect harmony filled my being. It was a place that surpassed my limited understanding of this world. Finally, I could see what lay behind the door. With a smile on my face and my curiosity satisfied, I lay down on the cozy ground. I looked at the sky, feeling happy. The grandeur of this place had completely captivated me. I closed my eyes and rested. In the reception area, the owner was looking for the young man. He needed him for a task. He searched and searched but couldn¡¯t find him. He remembered that in the morning, the young man had mentioned he would go to the library. For that reason, he decided to look for him there. He didn¡¯t find him. Then, he passed by the place where the young man had left the ladder to place the books on the shelf. The wallpaper on the wall was intact, the ruler still on the shelf. Only the young man had disappeared.