A Night of Insomnia

I had finished dinner, brushed my teeth and was lying in bed, with my body turned to my right side, all under the blankets, except for my head. I prayed, as every night, and I checked that all the lights were off. I could only see two little squares of light: the orange one, telling me where the light switch was, and the red one, of the mosquito device. The tic-tac of the clock never stopped and sometimes I could hear a car passing by. I could still smell the burnt piece of bread of the sandwich I had had for dinner coming from the kitchen.

I had a lot in my mind. From one day to another, my cousin Agustín was not around anymore. And as God had taken him without forewarning, He could take anyone else just in the same way. It was twelve o’clock and I needed to be rested for school the following day.

I thought about what I had done that day: my grandmothers, my godmother and the Lizondos came home for a barbecue. I remembered sitting next to María and talking about The Little Prince, school, her work. Then the doubles tennis game with friends that we lost, the Coke in the drugstore and then our victory in the volleyball game. It had been a sunny Sunday. Just the same as the one years ago back in my old house.

Green grass, yellow leaves in the old and tall eucalyptus trees and two white chairs in the middle of the garden. The autumn sun was shining and a comfortable breeze made the trees sway a little bit. It was not a big garden, but square, a little surface covered with grass, a small pool and a powerful and invisible force that made things bigger: maybe love, happiness, bonding, comfort. In one chair a little girl of about seven years old and in the other a woman. Grandmother and granddaughter contemplating the bright blue sky, the shining sun, and talking.

Conversation went easy. Grandmothers have always so much to tell… What we ask, they answer; whatever happens to us, they know, they’ve been through it all. Grandmother talked, granddaughter listened. Both looking at each other and enjoying the sunny autumn afternoon. A green tangerine was in the old woman’s wrinkled hands. One finger got into it and softly, with all the sweetness possible, the tangerine got an orange-white colour. The green pieces of the crust that protected it from the cold, painful bumps and the world’s indifference were now peacefully lying on a plate on the floor.

Grandmother taught while granddaughter learned. Grandma made the classic ‘hens’ with the tangerine and the little girl, paying a lot of attention, tried to do the same. She did her best, but difficulty grew stronger and frustration managed to beat her for a while. The girl couldn’t do the ‘hens’ but she was still happy; she was sitting under the sun eating a tangerine and learning. The breeze caressed the girl’s hair softly, but the sun and the company kept her warm. The first ‘hen’ of the afternoon was about to be eaten. The granddaughter took a deep breath of happiness and the acid tangerine touched her tongue as she swayed like the trees in her rocking chair. Her eyes went small and glazed for a little while, but acid depends on the situation – and this one was sweet. After some ‘hens’ her mouth felt the acid taste but she didn’t mind bacuase it was so nice and warm out there.

Those white chairs in the square garden, the green grass, the yellow leaves and the breeze blowing softly never got out of my mind. Feeling warm in the mid autumn sun is mostly the same as feeling love having acid in your mouth; a comfortable and kind of acid taste.

Owls outside my window and the idea of death were wondering round my mind and didn’t let me think about the happiest times I had had. It was difficult to avoid that thought, that sense… The really faded photograph-images of my grandpas appeared. Then a big black and strange shadow engulfed my grandma while Robbie Williams sung in my head: ‘With the blink of an eye the Lord came and asked you to meet. You went to a better place but He stole you away from me’. But I can’t sing this completely yet, as He didn’t steal her away from me – and I am so thankful for that! She knows how to make ‘hens’ with a tangerine, she loves me, I love her, and she still has a lot to teach me, I thought.

I was feeling very tired… after a whole afternoon playing tennis and volleyball, I couldn’t understand how I could still be awake. I yawned… but I didn’t fall asleep. People I miss, people I love, people I admire, and people I haven’t seen for ages. How I need Micaela, how I’d like to see Tomás, to hug, to talk to my cousin once more. The owls making strange noises outside my window, but then silence again. My past, my present, my future. My plans, my dreams, fate, life and pains. A whole life represented in front of me, with images, sounds, smells, memories... my life.

How I hated insomnia nights. I would be sleepy the following day; I wouldn’t pay attention in class… Suddenly the ideas in my head came and went, ran from one side of my head to the other. So I scribbled some words in my blue notebook such as love, peace and the ones adults mention very often nowadays: war, pain and death.

After a while, I tried to sleep again, unsuccessfully. Tomás walked through the door and sat down on one side of my bed. We talked for a while and slowly, my mind got tired and the story turned boring. Then I didn’t remember what I was telling my friend, so I started over. After a long chat, I finally fell asleep peacefully. But an hour or two later, the clock that had been bothering all night started to bother again, loudly this time. I got up and looked through the window at the shy sun that was rising from behind the city. Grandma must be up already, doing the cleaning-up of her house or having breakfast. Maybe she is watching the news on TV: war in Iraq, violence in Tucumán, hurricane in México; and definitely thinking of the future awaiting us.

This is one of the pieces of writing I sent for the English IB A2.