Gods of Antara: Gods and Warriors, #1

Dedicated to all those who persevere in the struggle to achieve their dreams. The ones that get up every morning willing to fight against the world and make every day of their life, until the last, a constant fight to reach their desires.

Prologue: Where magic is born, it can also die

M

agic, that's what comes to mind when everything that comes to our mouths and our life is wonderful. Despite having had to suffer the loss of losing her mother long ago, Antara felt that her life was wonderful. She had a family that loved her; Even though his father married another woman, who had a daughter already, they were always there when she needed them, giving everything for her.

Her social life? Fabulous, it was the envy and focus of her circle of friends. Although they almost always complained that she wasn´t going shopping with them, because she preferred to visit that old crazy lady who was surrounded by books, they all adored Antara and always required her presence for all kinds of events.

But the best of his life, without a doubt was her day to day in high school, not because she was one of the most popular girls, nor because her notes were also much more than decent, no; all this was eclipsed by the fact of being Oscar's girlfriend, the most handsome and popular boy in the institute. Although she did not usually appear as spiritual and sensitive as she was, Oscar was a gallant who was proud to be able to show off his beloved girlfriend, because Antara didn't either get behind; She took care of her image to the smallest detail. Both were the perfect couple in a perfect world.

She always reminded herself how lucky she was, being fully aware that this would be forever, because a magical halo surrounded everything in her life, protecting her from harm. But magic also has its bad side: You have to pay a very high cost and make great sacrifices to keep it active.

Perhaps it was what he thought just before losing consciousness, because a car rammed hers from the side, causing a spectacular accident. Perhaps that was what a loved one told her while he was in a coma, on the other side of the veil that separates our world from others. Perhaps that thought was produced by his broken heart, looking for something to hold on, so as not to have to face that terrifying darkness, which surrounded her at the same moment she woke up. Perhaps magic is as deadly as we are and as it is born, it is destined to die ...

GHOST WOLF

1 A very strange name

Antara remains seated on her bed, her back fully upright and her hands on her lap. The window that crowns her room is in front of her, giving free rein to the onslaught of the sun that invades, like every morning, every corner of that room.

She still has wet hair and that accentuates the feeling of cold that runs through her body. Her accompanied breathing tries to frighten the tremor. Every time she takes a breath and expels it from his lungs, she hears her father's words in his head, repeating how fortunate she is to be there. How fortunate he is for not losing her.

But that's not how she feels. Something inside reproves her every time she regrets her misfortune; She is alive and that is not only something; that's a lot. But that 'much' has remained empty, dark and strange.

Antara wouldn't know how to talk about those months in a coma; She doesn't even remember what the accident was like. She has been told that she was alone in his car, that another vehicle crossed his path when a Stop signal was skipped and that he rammed her with the front, destroying the driver's door, meaning, hers and the left side of the car. The blow on the head was the most serious, although not the only one of her injuries. In short, Antara feels as if that part of her life is a patch of artificial explanations and memories. Then, the awakening and the blackness. The doctors give her little hope of recovering the vision and although she herself tried to hold on to the most short-lived hope while she was in the hospital, returning home gradually leads her to a harsh reality.

She still keeps in her mind the terrifying fear of stepping on the street for the first time. The dying autumn sun hitting her in the face, emulated the same will of heat that she longed for and that the star king could not offer her. Suddenly, walking on her father's arm made her feel in front of an abyss of uncertain fall. Each step, taken with fear; Every noise around her, multiplied. The world that had longed to eat just a few months ago, now threatened to be too big for her at this time; to be the one to devour her.

Nor do absences that leave more space to a vacuum that is already too large help. Oscar was always, in her opinion, the perfect boyfriend but in the six months of hospital stay he has not been to see her once; Not a call, not an explanation. That is why the nerves stir her up at that moment as if it were going to be the first time, she spoke with him. Because Oscar has called her just an hour ago; He wants to talk to her and although Antara has been waiting for that call for months, now it is something that leaves her cold.

When she hears the car door shut down, she instinctively walks her fingers through his hair. I can no longer see him but she knows that her long blonde hair has to present those waves she has always hated. Spending hours in the bathroom in front of the mirror to smooth it out is another one of those banal acts that she has given up.

She sits up and gropes the bed with his hands, heading for the door. She stumbles with the cane that her father has brought and that she refuses to use. She stands again and remains motionless, smoothing the wrinkles of the skirt. She has asked Adeline, the woman in charge of housework, the green orange blossom that she liked so much, although she hates not being able to see how she looks at that moment.

Two knocks on the door make her tense more than ever and she clears her throat before speaking.

Come in.

Listening to the dry crack of the lock and then his father's voice:

Honey, Oscar is here. I leave you alone. If you need anything, you just have to tell me.

Thanks Dad.

She silently appreciates her father's patience. Under no circumstances he would let him enter the house again but Antara's entreaties have made him give way. She doesn't expect a satisfactory solution to that situation, but whatever it is the crisis, it has to be. Prolong the resulting uncertainty as absurd as it is painful. Nor has her stepmother been willing to attend to Oscar, but Antara's insistence on it, we have also made her arm twist. Maria has been married to her father for six years and although she has always been good to her, like her sister Celine, Antara has as never missed the figure of her mother, who died when she was just seven years old. Now neither Mary nor her daughter, the fruit of a previous marriage, are in the house, because both of them went to a journey only a couple of weeks ago.

The door closes again and Antara is exasperated by the silence that surrounds her.

Are you there? He asks Oscar.

Hey ... Yes. Yes, I'm here. You're... beautiful girl.

Antara has been accumulating doubts and rage in equal parts for a long time; all this projected towards Scar but at that moment, she does not know what feeling to give him free rein. He almost struggled to understand how they got to that point, they, who were the perfect couple in high school. She, the most popular girl, the most admired, great student and always taking care of every detail. And he, the most desired by all, the most handsome; also, exemplary student and best sportsman. An idyllic and complicit relationship that, overnight becomes something strange and distant.

They are in front of each other and they do not know what to say to give naturalness to a relationship that always had it. At least, in appearance.

I know ... I owe you an explanation, says Oscar at last. The words suffered a relief to Antara.

Sit down, she asks.

I'd rather stand. If you don't mind.

Sure.

Antara back off and hold herself to the dressing table behind.

You see, first ... when I heard about the accident ... they said you were bad; They didn't even know if you would survive, and I swear it was the worst day of my life. I had no point in seeing you, because they weren't going to let me in. After... Your life was no longer in danger but they didn't know if you'd wake up and, by God I wasn´t able to see you that way. Anyway, you weren't going to notice either. It would have been absurd for me to visit you.

Sometimes it's enough to be there. Antara replies at last. Although we can't see each other even if we can't talk, it's enough that we can feel us, somehow.

Something in the expression of Scar relaxes, perhaps the fact that he and Antara had spoken about this other times, so spiritual she; so pragmatic him.

Feelings, perceptions, says Oscar. You know I only trust what I see.

I don't see you and yet you're here. Oscar takes his fist to his mouth.

I'm sorry, he apologizes. What I mean is ... God, Antara, this isn't one of your love or fantasy novels where the girl wakes up when he walks into the room or something. This is the harsh reality and if you're in a coma, you don't know anything. That's why I didn't go.

Oscar is beginning to get upset and that makes him lose the subtlety in his ways; Antara knows it well. That's why she tries to soften the effect of her words on her.

I've been awake a long time in the hospital, she recriminates. Three months. I couldn't see you, but I would have known, as you say."

I don't know, a lot of time had passed and... I thought you'd reproach me, with all the reason in the world. Besides, I knew that you had lost your vision and... I didn't know how to face it.

Antara smiles.

I'm the one who has to face it, Oscar. I just needed... not to be alone.

You weren't alone. You... your family was with you.

Yes... -she mutters. My family...-There...

There's something else I want to tell you.

Antara remains on silence. She doesn't even feel strong enough to get angry and send him for a walk. Let him say what he has to say, and then let him go, without fuss or drama.

Kristina and I...

But the news doesn't give rise to serenity.

Kristina and you...-Kristina and you what?

We are... Well... We were both broken with the accident and... I couldn't wait all my life. Even the doctors didn't know if you'd make it. Later...

She can't see Oscar but for the first time since she met him Antara feels that even enjoying the sense of sight, at that moment he would have in front of him a total stranger. A stranger to whom he does not want to cry. He feels his eyes watered but he will hold on. He will not give her the satisfaction of seeing her defeated.

Later, what?she asks. She makes real efforts to contain herself and not explode. She knows that if she does, Oscar will leave, depriving her of everything she needs to hear; a cruel confirmation that pushes her to renounce him forever.

Damn it, Antara; about your vision.  We can pretend that everything is the same as before, but it isn't.

It isn't, Oscar, but it has changed especially for me.

I know that you live in that particular world where you imagine things and make use of extrasensory perceptions and other nonsense but I need facts, realities. And as raw as all this is, I prefer to go with the truth ahead.

I wish it hadn't taken you half a year to throw noses at her -she responds-. Maybe the courage was never your strong but I think the situation demanded it, that I deserved it, don't you think?

I know I've disappointed you, Antara, and believe me when I tell you that I've also done it to myself, but all this is getting bigger.

Luckily you can choose not to face it.

You're going to be able to count on me for anything, but I need...

What do you need? To be told every day how handsome you look or how good your pants look? Is that it?

I'm surprised you were with me if you saw me that superficial. I don't need any of that; I need accomplice looks. Tell us everything without telling us anything. There are many things locked up in one look, Antara. And maybe he's an insecure, a coward and everything that might be going through your head. But I need them, I've needed them for a long time and Kristina has given them to me.

Do you know what I regret? That I didn't even have the satisfaction of being the one who sends you to hell. Having to put up with the fact that after all this shit it's you who does it.

Listen...

I´ve already listened enough! she shouts, angry.

Now get the fuck out.

Hear Oscar sigh; then, just two steps preceding the door open and close. Antara takes her hands to her face and drops to the ground, just as her father comes running and looks at her, confused, content and surprised.

If it helps more than I run after his steps and rip his head off, just say so.

But she says nothing and her silence is as eloquent as a silent plea for her to remain by her side. Her father embraces her and covers her head with kisses.

*****

Sleeping for a while has been good for her. She’s calmer and peaceful. Her new situation has at least one positive point: her father has just left her in front of Mina’s small bookshop and this time, she has not shown the slightest sign of dissatisfaction. Few people understand that he spent so many hours in there with a woman as troubled and poorly famed as Mina. The discussions with his own father or Oscar were a constant for Antara, as well as with her friends, because it almost seemed shocking to them that she preferred to spend hours in that rickety bookstore with an old alcoholic rather than go shopping with them.

But today there have been no arguments or opposing voices.

When the engine of his father’s car is turned on to get away, Antara extends her arm, instinctively and caresses with the fingertips of the window glass, where the same old books have been displayed for a long time. Now she can’t see them but she smiles thinking that Mina probably hasn’t changed them yet.

The rain pours hard and beats on the irregular streets, between the gutters and also on its own umbrella. Suddenly she seems to hear it louder than she had ever heard it; perhaps it is because she had never given special importance to the sound of rain. Now, however, sound and smell are all you have. Also touch, which perceives cold water when extending its arm, taking it out of the protection of its umbrella.

She gropes a couple of steps to his left and pushes the door, which emits the usual noise of the bell that hangs over it, warning the old bookshelf of the arrival of some customer. Antara closes the umbrella and delights in the smell of burnt wood. The warmth is always a gratifying sensation that embraces her as she enters, as does Mina’s harsh but affectionate voice.

¡Antara! exclaims, excited.

She listens to her footsteps crawling across the wooden floor and approaching her to melt them both in a warm and sincere embrace. Mina has been interested in his condition with assiduity but had not yet had occasion to see, because Antara’s father and stepmother invited her to leave the hospital when the old woman had unexpectedly turned up and ended up making a fuss after being banned from the hospital. That had been a strong argument between Antara and her father but after talking on the phone, the young woman and the bookseller agreed that it would be best to wait until she could go see her again.

How have you been, my child?

Ok... I guess I’ve been better. But I’m glad to be here again.

Mina’s old and trembling hands caress Antara’s soft cheeks and even without seeing her, she is able to imagine the excited face of the old woman.

We’ve missed you.

Antara raises an eyebrow. Have we? Mina is alone there but is already much greater and it is not a few times that from her fine wrinkled lips some nonsense or some other incongruity that Antara has never granted greater importance. It almost seems positive that the old woman has found some kind of companionship even in her imagination. Or perhaps he refers to books, which she often speaks of as if they were little elves hanging and leaning from the shelves. Antara finds that funny.

Come on, come on, my little girl keeps telling her. Hold her arm gently and take her inside the bookstore. We have a lot to tell you.

*****

The bookshop is not only an old establishment where to buy books, many of which can no longer even be found in other places, but also a small and comfortable space to enjoy them. Despite how small and old the place is, Mina has enabled a couple of rooms to sit down to read or even write. One of them consists of a long table for eight people and a slightly smaller, round table in the background. In total, about 13 or 14 people have little space left. The other room is what Mina calls the 'special room': an uncomfortable and formerly stately armchair that now loses springs and feathers in equal parts presides over it. Opposite, a warm fireplace offers an almost paradisiacal corner to shelter in the cold days under the fire and a book. And that’s exactly where Mina has taken Antara. The woman takes a seat on the couch and the girl kneels on the floor, on the fluffy carpet of synthetic hair in front of the fireplace. They don’t let go of their hands and the old woman covers Antara’s with kisses.

How have you been? the girl asks.

I should ask that of you. I am not the one who has suffered a terrible accident.

I’m... okay.

Can’t you see yet?

No, Mina. I probably won’t.

You can’t give up hope, honey.

I prefer to start accepting things as soon as possible. Mina sighs and breathes her breath in Antara’s face.

You’ve been drinking again, she says.

No, I never drank again; I never stopped drinking.

Don’t start yelling at me!

Mina...

Mina, nothing. Less and less people come here to read a good book or write it and... these months without you...

The bell of the door jingles again in the other room.

Get out of here! cries Mina. Now I’m busy, damn you.

Again, the sound and then the slam door.

Maybe you’re not doing too much for people to come.

I don’t feel like talking to anyone today, but to you. To hell with people and their desire to come or not. I am almost 80 years old and I keep the shop open for not dying locked within the four walls of a lonely house, abandoned by the world and forgotten by all. I have no need to sell. THE HELL WITH EVERYBODY! shouts.

Antara smiles.

All right, calm down now. I’ve thought a lot about you being in the hospital. I knew my absence wouldn’t help you and that even in honor of me you wouldn’t leave that damn bottle behind.

You know me well smiled Mina.

You’ll end up destroying your liver.

I don’t give a fuck.

You can’t care less. It’s one thing to give a fuck about people, but you... you have to take care of yourself like no one else because when it comes to the truth, you’re all about you.

Mina frowns at me.

What about that pessimistic view of people? Has something happened?

Well...

Do you mind?

You won’t believe it...

Of course, I will believe it. I am almost 80 years old and you would fall on your back if I told you everything I have seen throughout my life. Come on, shoot.

my house —previous call— and tells me that he is entangled with Kristina. What do you think?"

Praise the sky. Finally, you have taken off that stretched putz.

Mina! I thought you liked Oscar.

QNo, you liked Oscar’s cocky energumen, and just in honor of that, I’d rather be quiet or with my nose stuck to the bottle. blame me now." The woman stands up and walks to the small rustic wooden table next to the window

For my mother I did not like him.

What are you doing? Antara asks. You’re not drinking, are you?

Can I be allowed the doubt of doing something else? replies Mina, annoyed. No, I am not drinking. I will only take that devilish pill...

Antara tries to move forward, holding on to the back of the chair to reach Mina.

What kind of pill?

Well, I haven’t been feeling very well in the last few weeks and... that asshole in the white coat has insisted I take them.

Why didn’t you tell me anything?

What are you, my mother?

Mina...

The old woman sighs and holds Antara’s hand.

Forgive me, darling. I... I’m not feeling very well.

You should close the bookstore today and rest.

It’s a good idea. I’ll go lie down upstairs if you don’t need anything.

No, I’ll... I’ll stay here for a while, if you don’t mind, and then I’ll call my dad to come get me.

You know this is your house.

Mina kisses Antara on the cheek and moves slowly towards the end of the small corridor at the exit of that room. A narrow staircase leads to the upper floor, where Mina has a tiny little flat with just the essentials to live on. Antara remains motionless on the bedside, thoughtful. Mina’s precarious health was not new, and the fact that the old woman had decided to visit the doctor was a clear sign that the situation must have worsened in recent times.

The redundant tinkling of a bell and the voice of a man draws it from his thoughts.

Hello?

Antara’s getting tense. Mina has forgotten to close the shop and the girl debates between staying where she is or going out to explain to the client that the owner of the bookstore is indisposed and that therefore she will have to return another day. In just a few seconds she feels stupid. Of course, she’ll go out, explain what happened and close the door so she won’t have to spend the whole afternoon doing the same with so many other customers.

Feel the wall and walk slowly and with his usual insecurity to the main room of the bookstore.

He... hello babbles.

Hello responds the voice of a boy. Now that he is there, he seems to be younger than he initially believed. I am looking for Mina.

Mina is not very well. You’ll have... you’ll have to come back another day.

brought her some books the boy answers a few seconds later.

You’ll have to come back another day repeats. She´s gone.

Antara is held tightly to the counter. She has not yet become accustomed to not knowing what the person who is with her is doing, especially when she is a complete stranger. It makes her uncomfortable and gives her the feeling that she is not controlling the situation at all, something she has always needed.

The stranger speaks again.

I can't come back another day. I bring you some books and ...

If you can't come back another day, leave them here. I will let you know that the traveler has come.

The traveler? The boy smiles though Antara can't see him. Are you her granddaughter" he asked.

No, I'm not her granddaughter. I'm her friend.

The boy cleared his throat and Antara heard his voice closer.

As I tell you, I bring you some books but ... if I'm going to leave them here, I need proof that you received them. I don't want trouble later.

I can go look for her if you get stubborn but she is not very well and would rather not have to do it for something that is not urgent either, Antara replies sourly.

Oh, nothing is further from my intention than to bother her. Why don't you sign?

I do not...

The boy takes a pen on the counter and a blank paper.

Right here ... just a ... doodle.

He holds Antara's hand with some fear of his reaction. She is also suspicious but takes the pen and scores the paper. Her discomfort is increasing in the face of that situation but she tries to shake off the sensation, repeating herself that it is something normal, almost banal; Sign a delivery note and go.

There, he concludes.

Millions of thanks. Antara nods.

What the hell did you put here? Ana ... Anastasia? Anas ...

Antara.

Is your name Antara?

It's the name I signed, isn't it?

If you say so...

I think you can go now.

It's a very weird name ... where does it come from?

I don't think that's important.

Okay, okay ... I just meant ...

Goodbye...

Don't you think you're being a bit nasty? - he asks, jokingly.

I treat you as you need according to your attitude.

Need? What book have you escaped from?"

Antara cracks a laugh, almost unconsciously.

Maybe you should do more with the books than take them from one place to another. Why not try to open one and read it?

Are you calling me ignorant?

Hey, you already have what you wanted and I think you're getting too heavy.

The young man realizes that Antara is getting nervous; his hands tremble and his mobile phone falls to the ground.

Shit ... he mutters.

He picks it up and after a few seconds, he returns it.

Here you are, he says. She reaches out and he places it on her.

Put it to load when you can; It is at the limit. Oh, and one last thing, adds the young man. The fact that the door bells ring reassures Antara, who now hears the boy's voice a little further. It goes-. You have the prettiest eyes I've seen in my life."

Antara takes a breath to respond but does not. The door closes and what startles her at that moment is Mina's voice.

Who the hell was it?

I thought you were resting.

I heard that damn bell again. I'm going to bite it off if someone doesn't take it away from me.

Mina, we've talked about this. It helps you know when someone is coming.

The hell!

Antara smiles and shakes her head, while distinguishing the steps of the old woman walking towards the door to close the library.

Your traveler has brought you books.

My traveler?

Yes, what a gem. I signed; I hope you don't mind.

No, of course...

I hadn't seen him here before. Of course, technically I still haven't seen him around here ...

Mina, who remained thoughtful, looks up and looks at her, surprised by Antara's humorous comment about her blindness.

As she turns around and scores the wall back to the cozy reading room, Mina sticks her face to the glass of the door and watches the rain fall on the street. Smile and shake your head. «The traveler», repeats herself.

2 A step forward

A

ntara walks taken to the arm of Miss Shire, the science teacher. It is the last class she has had before the break and the woman has offered to walk her out. They do it at a slow and calm pace and although the teacher gives her a conversation to make the ride lighter, Antara feels each and every one of her muscles locked.

The day is being strange and long. The return to the institute. She has lost the course and knows that next year he will have to repeat, something that at that time is not particularly worrying. She listens to murmurs in his wake and cannot help thinking that everyone talks about her: some sympathize; others simply comment on the play. It is the day to day in the institute; It always has been, although she is not used to being the center of those talkings for circumstances other than those referring to the admiration she caused in all those who saw her as the perfect girl or who envied her. Now she cannot help thinking that she is not able to generate a positive comment, beyond what the teachers have repeated on her return: that he is a very brave girl. Antara finds it curious to feel so contrary to everything that is Sayed to her: lucky? brave? She feels the most miserable being on Earth and must also admit that she is terrified at that moment.

Well, Antara, says Miss Shire. I have to leave you here because I have to correct some exams during these thirty minutes. The woman helps her sit down. You are right next to the entrance door to the gym, so if you need anything, the intercom is on your right.

Antara just nodded.

Are you sure you don't want me to take you with your friends?

I'm fine here, thanks. I need to be alone for a while.

Ok. You know, you'll hear the bell in thirty minutes, so if you don't call me before, I'll come looking for you after that time, okay?

Ok.

When she hears the woman's steps move away, Antara must contain the urge to cry. She, who never managed to remain alone at the time of breaks, is now sitting in a corner, trying to move away from the world and without anyone seeming to miss her in excess. Imagine the looks on her, the whispers of sidelong and although she tries to tear the paranoia from her head, she does not succeed. She instinctively puts his hand to the mobile phone in his pocket when he hears several steps approaching. He has not the slightest idea of ​​who they are and that, which he has been suffering all morning since his return, moves her to a disconcerting inquietude.

Hello, Antara.

It is Kristina's voice and listening to her, makes her climb something up her stomach that forces her, somehow, to stand up. Swallow and does not respond, because she has not yet identified who accompanies her. Is it possible that it is Oscar? Would her best friend until recently and her ex-boyfriend be able to prepare such a welcoming act?

Hello.

How are you?

Shaila and Nicole's voices return something similar to tranquility. They have visited her in the hospital on occasion, just like Kristina herself, who had omitted certain aspects that Antara had been grateful to know, although none of them dropped down there with sufficient assurance to be able to call them 'friends', something that, however, she had always done. The accident has wrapped Antara in anguishing darkness but at the same time it has granted a paradoxical light in some aspects of her life that she probably had not given the importance they deserved. The shallow Shaila, Nicole and Kristina were her best friends and Antara had never shown the slightest concern at the fact that the deepest thing she had done with them was shopping. They were there when they were called to have fun or to criticize whomever was necessary, so why ask for more? The same happened with Oscar: they had a good time when they went out to party or to go for a walk; they liked each other and did not care much about tomorrow. Could that really be described as love? She would have sworn yes, at least on her part but love is a matter of two.

We haven't seen you since you've arrived ... Nicole observes. How are you?

Well ... as well as can be Antara replies awkwardly. She knows them too well not to think that at that moment they must be dedicating one of those looks, a mixture of superiority and pity.

Anti, it's a shame what happened to you, Shaila adds, approaching her and hugging her.

Antara responds coldly. She knows perfectly well that it is not felt.

Yes, it's a shame, Nicole repeats. This afternoon we wanted to go shopping. You can ... join us, if you want.

Nicole, don't be an idiot, Shaila says. If she can't see anything. What do you want her to do, sit and wait while we try on clothes? It would not be correct.

Well, the important thing is that you go out a little and give it the air and all that, right? Maybe that's how you recover your vision before.

Girls, please, Kristina intervenes. I would like to speak with her alone, so ...

I have nothing to talk to you, Antara interrupts.

Your boy has made everything very clear to me.

Antara, you have to listen to me.

I don't want to hear you, she shouts. I don't want to listen to any of the three. For me, you can all go to hell.

What? Exclaims Shaila.

Can we know what the hell is wrong with you? Nicole adds.

Antara ...

Kristina!

Oscar's voice puts the icing on a most unpleasant situation.

What are you doing? He exclaims as he approaches.

I just wanted to talk to her. She also deserves an explanation from me and ...

Are  you ok? Asks Oscar.

Antara wonders for a second if he is addressing her but does not answer. Extend her arms and walk forward, bumping into someone. Oscar, judging by his height. She pushes him away with a gentle push and continues groping.

Antara, he insists, following her.

She does not respond and continues to walk away.

Let me go with you, please.

Get out.

You can't go alone in this condition.

Which condition? She shouts furiously. She has stopped and faces the direction from which Oscar's voice arrives

I'm blind; not dying.

Continue walking and stumble. Oscar tries to help her but she breaks free with an abrupt movement and continues to move forward with the perimeter of the building as the only reference. Start to sob and feel that her burden is increasing. For a moment she stops and leans against the wall, trying to breathe. She hates not knowing, even if she is alone; if someone has followed her or is looking at her, so she drops her back against the rough wall of the institute and removes the mobile phone from her pocket. Unlocks the screen and performs automatic movements to call her father: contacts and the first one. When the phone picks up,