Sound Off

No item. All hope of leaving this hellhole anytime soon dies with Lobison. I spin my chair around and María is standing in the doorway, with her red watery eyes fixed on me. Strands of her hair stick out from under her head bun, and the rest of her waitress uniform is stained and wrinkled.

"You don't care, do you?" she says in a soft, as she shakes her head. "As long as you have your stupid jueguito, the world and everyone in it can go to hell and you won't give a damn."

Then she glances at my fan.

"I'll give you the money to fix your fan," I say quickly before she gets any ideas. Then I spin the chair back to face my computer.

Her two strong hands grab my shoulders, and she spins me around, forcing me to face her.

"You have got to start living in the real world," she says very slowly, enunciating every syllable. "I can't handle everything on my own."

I'm tired. My head hurts. I've just wasted more than three months of my life trying to get a chance at participating in the tournament. And we've been here before. No matter how many times I try to explain to her that if it weren't for Amoria Online, we wouldn't be able to pay the electricity or internet bills, or keep Ma sane for the foreseeable future, she doesn't listen.

It was only last week that I sent her an article about a Venezuelan man who does something similar to what I do in Amoria, earning gold in the game and selling it for real money. She never read it. People have been making money out of video games forever, with e-sports, streaming channels and even cosplays. But for her, it's still an ignominious activity.

"Leave me alone," is all I muster to say.

María turns and exits my room, trying to slam the aluminum door behind her. It's so light that all it does is creak as it swings back and forth. Beyond the thin walls, I hear her footsteps as she leaves the house. Ma sighs and starts shuffling things around the kitchen, sweeping. The glass shards scrape the rough wooden floor planks as she picks up the shattered remnants of our former life.

I poke my head out of my room.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

Ma looks up and smiles, but her sad eyes betray her.

"Did you find what you were looking for? In your jueguito?" she asks, as she puts the shards in a bag and throws it in the trash can. She straightens her back and stares at the cupboard, where there are only three crystal cups left. Of all the little things she wanted to save when we had to leave the house as water came through the door, she brought the cups. There used to be twelve of them, given to her by my abuela as a wedding present.

"I ran out of time. I didn't get it," I say.

Ma at least has a basic grasp of what I do. It worried her, at first. Pero mija, you'll burn your eyes out. You need to leave the house and find a job, she used to say. After I started giving her most of the money I earn, she stopped fretting and started pretending to be interested in the game, even if she doesn't understand it.

"What was it?" she asks and turns to face me. "Was it worth a lot?"

"Nah. Just something I wanted," I say.

"How's your business? Are you selling a lot of things?"

That's pretty much all she understands about what I do. That I somehow craft and sell things.

"Good. Lots of sales."

After an awkward silence where so many things are left unsaid, as always, I go back to my room. My body aches in the usual places after my twelve-hour playing binge. Defeated, I throw myself on the bed, and a loose spring I forgot was inside my mattress stabs me in the back. But I can barely feel it. One gets used to anything, eventually.

I set the fan on its highest setting and it blows a warm, refreshing breeze on my face. The somniferous lull of the spinning blades seems to remind my body of its need for sleep. By now, the sun is almost up and grey light filters through the cracks on the walls.

Our next-door neighbor, Ña Luisa, is arguing with her husband again. A motorcycle engine starts and roars as it drives away, and the ownerless dog that wanders the barrio's narrow corridors barks at someone passing by. The roosters are late in announcing the sun, but it doesn't stop them from crowing. It seems it's going to be a long and loud morning, so I put my headphones on, even if they don't work.

My real-life monsters are muted, at least for a little while.