A smile crept onto his face; his eyes gleamed for a moment before he looked at the meat and vegetable stew more closely. "Isn't it too similar to last night's stew?" he asked himself.
He carefully observed the placement of the meat chunks, the combination of vegetables, and, in general, the stew was far too similar to the one he ate last night.
For a moment, Almeida paused, and then his eyes opened wide. "Wait, I can remember exactly what last night's stew looked like, hehehe," he chuckled softly, thinking of several things he could do. "Photographic memory?" he said to himself before sitting in his chair and starting to eat.
Almeida sat down, picked up a spoon, dipped it into the stew, and brought it to his mouth. The next moment, the entire world went pitch black.
"Bbzzrrpp, the boy, whose mind has deteriorated, is not functioning correctly, not functioning correctly, bbzzrrpp," a guttural voice sounded inside Almeida's mind. However, he didn't react; he simply stayed petrified in place.
"Your mind is damaged, you do not function," the guttural voice echoed in the boy's mind. The next moment, his consciousness was bombarded by a slew of images.
Almeida found himself floating in an infinite space, various memories flashing by like high-speed frames in front of him, as if it were a gigantic projection and he were a tiny being in the dark universe.
"Mr. Jhon, thank you. The rebellion has taken the lives of many people, but I am sure we will achieve something. I mean, something better than what we have now." In a projection like a giant video in front of him, a completely dark scene was shown, with only his mother's characteristic voice echoing in a peculiar way.
The boy remained motionless, floating in space, staying there like a statue. His mind couldn't process any particular emotion at that moment. To him, it was like watching a movie while his mind had lost every capability other than processing what he was seeing without passing any judgment on it.
The projection in front of Almeida suddenly changed, and this time it showed a scene so overshadowed that the inside of Almeida's hut could barely be made out. In the spot where the boy usually sat, there was now a man. His face and body couldn't be seen, just a silhouette; and on the other side, the silhouette of a woman.
"Why does it have to be you? It's been several years now. Mr. Jhon and Mr. Esteban are leaving tomorrow, you don't need to go..." the woman's voice resonated, and by the tone, one could guess it was Alejandra's voice.
"..." The man didn't answer; he just lowered his head. Alejandra's silhouette stood up abruptly, grabbed the glass of water near her, and threw the water in the man's face.
"Three years! You show up in January and disappear the other eleven months. Almeida is always asking about you. Why doesn't he come? Why isn't he here for his birthday? Why...?" The woman stopped when the man stood up. His silhouette stared at her.
There was a brief moment of silence. Alejandra's silhouette had trembling hands. She lowered her head slightly while a soft sob could be heard. Then, she murmured a barely audible, "I'm sorry."
The next moment, everything began to crumble. The very universe where Almeida was located started to compress, putting an end to what he was seeing.
The boy, sitting in his chair, began to move his head. His eyes barely caught the midday light coming through the door, illuminating the entire inside of the hut.
Once again, as if he were lost and his mind wandering in an infinite void, Almeida did nothing but stay in his seat. But that state wouldn't last long.
It wasn't until a few seconds later that the little boy's eyes opened wide. His body was filled with a bitter sensation that crawled across his skin like dancing ants.
He let out a powerful exhale before breathing heavily. "Dad..." he muttered softly, his mind finally processing everything that was happening. "Mr. Jhon, Mr. Esteban," his breathing grew faster as he spat out those words rapidly in a high-pitched voice.
"It doesn't matter when or how, we are here, happy birthday!!! Why aren't you smiling?" Almeida unconsciously muttered something softly, his mind failing to catch his own murmur as he analyzed everything that had just happened.
His eyes began to gleam before two lines of tears painted his face. The boy quickly got up from his chair and ran out of his hut.
"It hurts..." he gritted his teeth as he clenched a fist near his chest. The pain was as sudden as the rush of memories in his mind; it was like a needle slowly piercing the veins connected to his heart.
Thump Thump
He kicked the ground with such force that he shot forward, jumped over the wooden fence surrounding his house, and started running at high speed in a specific direction.
"Abandoned church," flooded Almeida's mind. Little by little, as his body moved frantically, his mind finished processing everything.
"Where is dad?" was the first question he asked himself as his feet moved at a rapid pace.
"Where are Mr. Esteban and Mr. Jhon? They should, they should..." he stopped mid-sentence. It was as if he were about to say the following phrases, but they got stuck in his throat.
"I must look for them, they left, look for them. Rebellion?" he asked himself at the end of his words, his mind processing what he had experienced in that infinite void. However, before Almeida could continue, a voice was heard calling him.
"Almeida!!"
"It's Mom's voice..." the boy murmured before smiling brightly. His stomach growled with ravenous hunger as he came to a sudden halt. "Mom... dinner must be ready," he told himself.
However, before he could turn around to head back to his hut, he stopped. His body suddenly trembled, his eyes dilated, and his mouth fell wide open.
"Important!! What I am doing is important, I must..." the boy struggled to keep speaking. However, his mind was beginning to erase those tormenting memories at an overwhelming speed.
"I must... look for them, it's important." The last word he pronounced felt like his own name, spoken and memorized so many times that it would be impossible to forget.
"Almeida!!!" his mother's sharp, loud voice rang out again.
"Shit!!!" The boy felt a sharp pain in his brain. He felt as if this organ was expanding with such force that it pressed against his skull. He grabbed his head, crouched down, and started pulling his hair hard. "It hurts..."
"Please, don't forget this, son, it's important," a man's voice echoed in the boy's mind, making him groan with a dull ache.
"It's important. What is important?" The boy shook his head vigorously from side to side, forcing himself to try and remember something that didn't exist in his memories.
"Almeida!!!" his mother's voice echoed louder.
The pain began to subside. The boy, breathing heavily, opened his eyes to see the yellowish grass rustling in the cold wind. His eyes started to calm down. "What is important?" he paused.
"What is important? Important." His stomach began to growl.
"That's right..." The incessant pain began to give way to absolute clarity.
"Dinner, I'm hungry." His stomach growled loudly, his throat felt dry as a desert, and before he could say anything else, he focused his gaze on his hut in the distance. A genuine smile appeared on his face.
"Mom!!" the boy shouted loudly before regaining his composure, his voice sounding with classic clarity, as he began running in the direction of his home.