“In the darkest depths of deception I have been, as I watched that vital force slip away from them. The one thing that could ever define their existence, or explain the reasons for their iron will, erroneous in its thought, but a virtue most people don`t possess. 

If only they could change its direction, understand the reason for their hardships, they`d rise up like the first spring blossoms, survived by its determination to overcome winter`s cold and often deadly chill. 

But they won`t. Not because they had no one to help them, for there were many who held out their hand for said purpose, or no reason to, because they had dreams and wishes they would have liked to have seen come true . Broken by time and the crude reality we live? Yes, but they were dreams just the same. However the one thing needed to get out of that horrid black abyss, doesn`t exist. 

There is no change within them, no will to do so, no meaning to their existence, no depth in their words, no LIFE… just movement, from one place to another. They live a life like the autumn leaves caught by the wind, destined to fall to the ground, decay into nothingness. 

And it is a sad occurrence, for a man to live too well-known to everyone else, but still unknown to himself. Isn`t that what Francis Bacon once said, or rather, a similar phrase? Where is the inspiration that used to exist in people capable of writing such lines? Where is the passion that used to drive them to be more than a mediocre being? Where is the honor that used to overcome every temptation to succumb to lowly vices and behavior? Where is the love, for justice itself?

Absolutely nowhere… those days where this kind of speech was our daily bread, are gone… forgotten, sunken into a vague intuition mixed with mystical legends and old fairytales. All that remains now is a never ending circle of distractions, a mechanical version of human life so to speak. 

To fill the emptiness this memory gives them; this dagger tearing away deep within their soul, they turn to the illusion that a dance club, sex, booze and pain to spare, can make it disappear. As if a few hours amidst chaos, can resolve that aching alert within their conscience. 

 No, I fear that for those I once loved for the fire I saw within them, those brave hearted souls for which I once said, “I would lay down my life to see you rise up.” have no salvation. As long as they won`t sacrifice the comfort of  ignoring that “wake-up call” within their soul, there is nothing left to do but abandon them to their own “freedom” , leave them at the hands of fate. Release them to the dangers of spiritual vampires, whose only desire is to use them, suck the very life from them. 

And for this, my heart will close its door; No longer will these tears fall for someone who has no wish to be saved-

Then again, in doing so, I too would become a useless shell, incapable of emotion…”

Cristina Sachs had been staring at the last sentence in her diary, trying to figure out a way to finish it, when the doorbell rang. 
She was sitting in her bedroom, where she had her writing desk right under her window, so she got up from her chair, pushed aside her reddish bangs and looked to the street. She could see who was at the door from her wooden paned window and noticed that it was her “friend”. The one she had invited to stay at her house. 

 “Just the very person I wanted to see today. How wonderful….” She thought with irony. After all, it was her that made her begin the monologue with “In the darkest depths of deception…” 

 Cristina was living in a middle class neighborhood of Barrio Crisol in the city of Cordoba, in a quiet little house on the corner of Ferroviaros Street.  Just the corner where all the inner city buses passed by every half hour or so, and a few more blocks away from the local grocery shop. However since it was so small, everybody knew everybody.

Ever heard of the Spanish phrase, “Little town, Big Inferno”? Well, everybody heard about the huge scandal her friend had made the last time Cristina let Lucy through the door. 

 Even the memory of it made her heart speed up with anger and she looked away from the window and let her ring the doorbell twice. 
 “What can you do? Let her stand there? Sit in the hot sun for a few hours?” she spoke aloud to herself. 
For the moment, her answer was yes.  As long as the memory was still fresh in her mind, and the wound of it still bleeding, Lucy would stay out of the house, even if she had moved into Cristina`s place for the two months she would be in the country. 

Coming back from Miami, Florida, Lucy had arrived at Cristina´s home after having spent a year or two in the States. As Lucy got married, had a wonderful honeymoon, went all around the world, then had a fight with her husband`s mother, got treated badly according to her, Cristina had spent her time studying long distance, working two jobs, reading anything mentally elevated to avoid getting pulled into the city whirlpool of daily activities, and attempting to make ends meet. 
However, Cristina realized that during that time, the only reason she was constantly stressed out was that she was taking things a little too seriously, considering certain things as prohibited. So she started taking her friend`s advice (from her workplace with whom she eventually got close to) and “let loose a few things”, or better said, when she found that job in the hostel, take the necessary time to meditate why she was so prejudiced about beer, night clubs and parties. 

She eventually got to the conclusion that she was afraid of what she called the “stranded-in-the-deep-end-of-the-pool-and-not-feeling-the-ground” syndrome, which she experienced the night she took her last exam and passed it, then went out with her friends, got a little buzzed, but still was able to walk home. Cristina realized in that moment, that as long as she put a healthy limit, she would always be in control. 
“As long as I was aware as to where to draw the line, I wouldn`t wake up lost in the middle of a “mental nowhere” she had described as a poetic amnesia in her diary that day. 

Meanwhile, or so Cristina thought, Lucy was recently going through a tough time, and Cristina thought it was a good idea to invite her, spend some reflection time and get her life in order. Whether or not, she wanted to divorce her husband due to his malcontent, move back to Argentina and go on with her life, with a little more self- respect than what she had before. 

Not even close, and now the dark deception she felt, took root the night before, when she came back from work and found her friend in the middle of an orgasmic encounter with people she didn`t know. 

“Look, there`s Cristina`s “friend”… She has nothing to do with her; look at how given away she is. Easy prey, what is Cristina thinking, hanging out with her?” were the rumors on the street when Lucy arrived. Now the suspicion turned into reality. 

I guess you could say that the only reason they were friends, was that weird opposite attraction of two personalities. Even though they had lived through a similar tragedy and reached a mutual understanding the day they met, it had brought out their negatively opposite nature; one walked away more wild than ever, the other buried herself deeper in her shell. Until one day, the wild one lived among too many limits, and the other lived with no limits at all. How did they get back together? Both got fed up with their reality. 

Cristina realized that holding everything back, eventually made her explode and one day grabbed the nearest person she had and used the poor guy as a guinea pig, which was just the same as lying, if you never say what’s on your mind to begin with, answering “I`m fine.” 

“It’s easier to tell a small truth in the precise moment, than to deliver a painful confession too late” was the lesson for that day. 

Lucy on the other hand, stayed as the victim and simply walked away from it all. 

Now, Cristina could see it. When she asked her to stay, she was still blinded by her enthusiasm and love for the little godly spark she saw. Just like the feeling that her father once gave her, as he took the same path. 
As Cristina was meditating all of this, Lucy, all dressed in shiny black stockings and a party dress, sweating from the heat, was still banging on the door. 

“Hey! You bitch! Open the door! Didn’t you tell me to get out and take my shit last night? I have to go now!” she viciously yelled, in a burned out voice due to all the alcohol she drank. 

Cristina looked out the window and thought, “That’s right, I did yell at her to leave…”

Suddenly her mind went back to last night. She remembered how she threw a vase at her, violently letting it shatter on the floor, how she whipped away at the guys that were with her, and how she finally grabbed her like a wild animal and threw her out the door, taken away by her sudden anger and disappointment. 

Now as she realized it how wrong she was, and as she watched Lucy fret to and fro in front of her door, Cristina started to cry.

Lucy was, and forever will be, nothing more than a wandering soul, driven only by animal instinct, and she was at peace with that idea. 
Cristina however, reacted with revenge. Pretending to be the holy one, as if she wasn’t capable of disregarding every need her family or friends had, when she acted with the same, “I-am-what-I-am. If- you-don’t-like-it, screw-you” kind of attitude. 

“Look in the mirror… see yourself before you judge” said her guilty conscience. 
Nevertheless what Lucy did was wrong, but if she would answer her actions with revenge and anger, Cristina would be no different. 

She got up, climbed down the stairs and opened the door. 
“Sorry Lucy I got caught up with something.”
Lucy had stormed passed her muttering, ”Finally… what the hell took you so long?” 
 With that, Lucy packed her things, and after 15 minutes, she was gone. 

Cristina went back to her writing…

"... If I should I lose my love for them…
If I should lose my ability to regret and forgive…

I would become a cold and revengeful statue, no different from their desire to forget their own torture, as this deception is to me now. No matter how much it hurts to see them walk towards the shadows, letting go and praying for their eyes to open, is the only way to reach out to them. 
As long as they are afraid to feel the agony it would be, to wake up, fight head on the dark side that pulls them, and say “I am the demon dancing in the fires of hell that you see in front of you now and the angel you will see later when I am the one to lead myself out.”, anything one can do to help them is futile. 
All it would do is diminish your energy, leave you to die in a loveless oblivion. 

It’s best to lead my own life, remembering to look up in times of despair, and be thankful for those moments of happiness these souls have given me. Remember to stop and observe for just a moment without earthly distractions and look within myself for the truth. 
Hang on to the hope that one day, they too would dare to look in the mirror and see themselves for what they really are, lose the fear of doing the only thing that could ever set them free. 

Until then… 
Farewell, someone whom I thought I knew well…
You that I once called “friend”…
You, whom I have simply learned to let go.   

September 2nd, 2013
Cordoba, Argentina
Based on a true story