Oh Lord, what was I going to do? Totoca would have helped me, but where was he now?
There was Glória. She was in the kitchen, no doubt. Glória was the only one who didn’t like the fact that everyone was always beating me.
She might give my ears a tug or ground me again. But I had to try.
I dragged myself to the kitchen door, trying to think of a way to win Glória’s sympathy.
She was embroidering something. I sat down awkwardly and this time God helped me.
She looked over and saw me with my head down. She didn’t say anything because I was grounded.
My eyes welled up with tears and I sniffed. I found her eyes on me again.
She had stopped embroidering. “What is it, Zezé?” “Nothing, Gló... Why doesn’t anyone love me?”
“You get up to a lot of mischief.” “I’ve been beaten three times today, Gló.”
“And didn’t you deserve it?” “That’s not it. It’s just that because no one loves me, they take everything out on me.”
Glória’s fifteen-year-old heart was beginning to thaw, and I could feel it.
‘I think it’s best if a car runs over me on the highway tomorrow and squashes me completely.’ Then the tears came streaming down in torrents.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색