SELF-AFFLICTION

PART 1: JOY

Summer, São Paulo – 2014

Naivety: I

Normally I just get up because I feel late, I just can't know for a fact if I am late or not just by waking up, but on some days I have this feeling that makes me jolt and stand upright. It is horrible because it hurts my belly muscles. Today, I opened my eyes and laid there for a minute or two. When I don't feel late I remain motionless so as to try to remember the dream I had. As I could not remember anything, I reached the conclusion that I'd not dreamt at all.

After realizing it was useless to lie there trying to remember a dream I didn't have, another realisation crossed my mind. Today is my sixteenth birthday. I finally stopped motionlessly looking at the large black table where I keep my laptop and I turned to see the morning sunlight shining through the holes on the aluminum window. These windows are an inexpensive alternative to the traditional ones, the problem is that they get too hot from the heat.

I finally stood up, slowly so as not to hurt my belly and I went toward the wardrobe to choose my outfit for the day. I set apart a coloured flowered dress and a pair of leather black Chuck Taylor all stars. I also decided to wear the only pair of earrings I have, golden round earrings. I glanced at the wardrobe mirror and asked myself if I looked like an adult dressed as a child. I showered and went downstairs to join my father Stephan at the table. He is a middle- aged man who looks too young to be a dad.

'Good morning sunshine!'

No. It's not because of my birthday.

Yes. He is always the happiest person around. 'Good morning Dad. What is there for us?'

'British breakfast.' It is our little thing, when I turned twelve my birthday wish was to travel the world and ever since he fancies cooking international dishes for us, especially for breakfast.

I smiled lightly, I love England, despite being born and living in Brazil my whole life.

'It is my favourite.'

'I know it dear.' He said.

I sat on a stool and had a simple chat with my father, he was considerate enough not to mention my birthday yet. Probably, because he knows I hate birthdays, so he spared me for the time being. He put his bag on his back and grabbed the car keys that were on a keychain with the words "I love my family", which only meant the both of us. My grandma passed away when I was twelve and my mother literally flew away when she was offered a job in the US, as a member of the corporate in this company I never got to know the name. I call my father Steph, despite it working for either a woman or a man. I like how ambiguous it sounds and he doesn't seem to mind.

'Have a nice one,Steph.' 'See you, Clarice.'

I know it is weird, but I love the way he pronounces my name as if I were a foreigner. I prefer the English pronunciation, rather than the Portuguese version "Clárissí" or something like that. As he left the kitchen, I happily started wolfing down my beans with tomato sauce, fried bacon and sausage before heading to school. The moment I finished the dish I slipped on my gym shorts underneath my dress so I could sit on the desk and not worry about perverts peeking, almost forgetting this detail probably tells how often I wear dresses.

I study at Black Bear which is a private school. It's funny how we like the Americanization of food and names for places here.

Hamburger, ketchup, Black Bear. I guess it works better for food. The unusual names I like the best are in Tupi Guarani, one of the languages of Brazilian original natives who originally inhabited our land before the Europeans spread disease and stole our gold or the American influenced our words. Black bear is near a subway station at the main avenue of São Paulo, my city and also the name of my state. Paulista Avenue is famous for MASP, a museum of modern art as the acronym suggests. There are fancy buildings there, some coffee places and this amazing cinema that only displays cult movies. I like this cult thing, although it is an English word for things, I love it because it doesn't have a good translation, so using the word cult makes sense to me, not a questionable Americanization.

My father is a nurse, and he can only afford the tuition because I received a partial scholarship to attend high school. I enjoy fabulous resources, like a digital blackboard, a decent library and remarkable teachers. I love it. It's more than I need, despite most richer students tending to criticize the school because their homes are so much better. I am lucky to study at a private institution. In public schools, some drugs are usually at large and Steph claims that the environment there would have a bad influence on me. I believe it's not a matter of the people being bad - they aren't - but the fact that the government invests as little money as possible, so much this disregard for education is common sense.

I don't have many friends at school, which means I don't have a social life. My peers are either geeks or popular people. Don't judge me, but I skip lessons to attend the theater classes twice a week. In my junior year, I was part of a play everybody loved so much I became not just accepted, but a loved member of the popular school groups. However, during recess, I have my meal with the geeks I can talk with about anime genres and the crazy characters they portray. I can't imagine myself talking about how it should suck to be a ghoul in Tokyo with my popular peers, or about how it'd feel to fight a titan fifteen times your size or even the responsibility of having a great quirk super power and having to decide between being a hero or a villain. I am currently a sophomore. There's just one detail, although I talk to people it doesn't mean I like them. It's just that I loathe most people and some others I loathe less. My favourite part of the classes is answering questions from the teachers and reciting poems, you can call me a geek in disguise. I don't know, maybe I don't despise being around naive teens for half of my day, but the fact is that I cope better with adults.

Today in Portuguese class, the teacher asked me to read Carmin, a poem I love. As the last class is finally over, I head to the restroom to change and go to work.

I love my job. I used to be a clerk at a fast food chain, – maybe I should explain it better – I refer to it as "clerk" because it sounds better, but we often changed roles. I hated making the hamburgers because I hate touching other peoples' food. Doing the cleaning was worse as we would stay until late every time. It didn't last long due to an opportunity that came to be. I had to drop out of the English course. At the end of my last English class, my teacher gave me the number of the coordinator of another private language school, telling me I should send him my résumé. After some tests, they hired me, with the condition that they would only register me when I turned sixteen, so today is the big day.

Yes. I have friends over there.

I am currently saving all my money for an international trip. I'm planning to travel when I turn eighteen. Steph doesn't know but I want the first drink I have to be one of those enormous pints, maybe one with honey rather than the ordinary Foster. Nothing against Foster, don't take me wrong, maybe it's good beer, the thing is that we want our first times to be special. For a disappointing first time my first night with a guy was enough. Yet, for some reason, the boy in question is my boyfriend nowadays. He comforts me when I feel down but nothing exceptional, the same for the things we do in bed. I guess I am now too accustomed to consider breaking up. Plus, sex has improved at least a bit, thanks for asking me.

As inexperienced as I might be, I consider myself a nice teacher, I mostly teach children. The only time a student cried in my class was because an American boy band had split up. The thing is that most of my favourite singers ODied, so I don't think it was a tragedy, after all, the boys are still alive. I have a passion for English, it is my favourite language by far.

Hardly do I see any money from my salary, when it is deposited on my bank account I transfer it immediately to Steph so I never spend a penny. I hope two years of hard work are enough to spend three months in England and maybe travel a little around the UK. Yet, I am sure I will only go to the north to face the challenge of the tougher accent and improve my English, the rest of the adventure I am still to decide. I know I want to visit the Scottish lowlands. Everybody – not really anyone I know – talks about the highlands, I feel the lowlands are so much forgotten.

Summer, São Paulo – 2014.

Stephan: II

Stephan got inside the car, opened the glove compartment and took out an orange flask, putting two pills on his hand. Afterwards, he drove to the hospital. Another twelve-hour shift in one of his two jobs. Everybody likes him, all his peers consider him a workaholic, as he is always the first to respond to any emergency calls. This time it is an ordinary day, but not too ordinary because of the city festival which is attended by loads of young people.

'Stephan, we need you at room 404, a young lady has just got in. I think she drank too much.' A brunette nurse said.

Stephan hurried into the room to have the patient checked before the doctor arrived. As he got into the room, he felt the young woman's pulse. Her heart was racing, sweat on her forehead, her arms had needle marks all over. The doctor arrived.

'Doc, she most probably had a seizure due to drug abuse. She had an overdose. Her heart is madly racing.' Said Stephan.

'Bring some Naloxone then, fast'.

Stephan left to request the medication. On his way, he entered an empty room, took the orange flask from a pocket and put three other pills in his hand.

'The woman is ODing and I stop to take OxyContin. What am I doing with my life?'

Summer, São Paulo – 2016

Exchange: III

I woke up and yawned sheepishly, today is Sunday, the only day of the week I don't have to work or study. Despite the rain, I decided to open the window for some fresh air. The cold wind caressed my face and I wondered if England would be like this.

While descending the stairs I saw Steph sitting on a stool.

'Hey honey dear, so nice you're up already. I have bought your tickets, you travel on December the 22nd, just after your graduation. Such a shame you didn't want to pay for the celebration party.' Steph remarked.

Indeed, I'm saving money for the parties dad.

'You know I do not have friends there, I am actually relieved I got rid of those people'.

I really was.

'Don't phrase it like that, you used to love your school friends, remember?'

'Yes, when I was seven they were not assholes.'

Even adults can be assholes and I already knew that, but now school is finally over and Steph still thinks of me as a baby child.

When I finished my celebratory fish and chips - with vinegar - Steph gave me his laptop and left. He works two jobs to make ends meet so he is rarely at home. I googled some possible schools and chose English as a foreign language for a one month course. I'd decided I'd study hard for one month and then party my way through the trip. You know, what young people like to do. My flat would be a student accommodation referred to as "Not your Pet Peeves" by the student reviewers, somewhere around the city centre. I calculated the expenses, the one-month course and accommodation for three months. I reached the conclusion that the spared money would be sufficient for food and some fun. I saved the links and sent an email to Steph, as well as emails to the college I chose. I wanted to live in London at first, however, it costs an arm and a leg. After a while, Newcastle started growing on me, it seems to be a student city, as well as an international one.

To be brutally honest, I have never gone out or had a single shot of liquor. Steph is excessively strict. He became a parent too early and apparently doesn't want me to make the same mistake. He never points out I am a mistake myself, but the way he puts it, I am. Basically, what I understand is that because of me his career was put on hold and I prevented him from becoming a doctor. He had to work and study to become a nurse, while Grandma Anne cared for me my entire childhood. She was the most important person in my life.

Winter, Newcastle – 2016

The remaining weeks of class and work were gone in a flash. I am now sitting on the window seat of the airplane. Contrary to common sense, I was not nervous during departure, I actually felt an adrenaline rush that brought me a smile of excitement. On my side another Brazilian was sitting, and after departure I helped her to order chicken and coke. I decided I'd have the same. I binge watched Friends coming to the realisation that the series would've been greater – to my taste – if the friends were all from different nationalities instead of only American. A true Italian Joey joking around with a French Chandler, both sharing a flat in New York.

I must've checked my location on the GPS a few minutes before falling asleep, when I heard we were three hours from Newcastle.

A few days before boarding I'd exchanged all my money downtown and put inside a copy of Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevsky, my favourite novel. Every other one hundred pounds banknotes, so it is troublesome enough now that I need to get some change for the metro.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. WHAT SHOULD I DO?

Well, guess who had been carrying around 1k in pounds and did not pay for the metro ride.

I'm so sorry, queen. I hope it doesn't lead to England's downfall - or to my arrest, that is.

The metro was a few minutes from the entrance of the airport, a convenience. Unfortunately, I remembered just now I'd forgotten to print the directions to my new pet peeves, my choice of stay. While my internet did not work here, I decided to get off at the station I remember is the closest to my stay. It was not hard, but now I need to start asking about the accommodation's whereabouts to find the way on foot. The thing is that I don't remember if it is walking distance.

After one hour, the happiness of breathing the fresh cold air of the northern UK was replaced by anxiety as it became dark (still it being 6pm local time), and freezing as hell (as ambiguous as that may sound). Luckily enough I found the right block, where I walked in circles for another thirty minutes. Fortunately, I noticed some people who looked like international students ready to party leaving an old building.

'Excuse me, do you know if there's a student accommodation near here?'

'Your pet peeves? Course, right here'. A girl in a group of youth said. It's night time and they are dressed to kill. I wondered if I should join them, but I can't leave my luggage here. Only the blonde girl from the group spoke, but all of them signaled towards the building.

The door was already shut, so I rang the doorbell. A woman whose name I don't remember welcomed me. She was Spanish. From now on I'll start calling people by their nationalities due to my slacking memory. The Spanish girl informed me that the building is rather old, but safe enough to rest assured it won't collapse anytime soon. It freaked me out. One day there, I mistook a fire drill for an actual fire and left the building in the middle winter, wearing only underwear and Havaianas flip-flops. I am not sure if people took me for a weirdo or just found me hot, but they stared. A lot.

Every floor has five bedrooms and two bathrooms as well as a living room/kitchen. Nothing fancy, but great. The thought slightly revolts me, as I feel strangely privileged living alone in another country. Utilities were included, which meant I would be able to use the heater at no extra cost. I met my flat mates at once, a Swiss couple, one Argentinian young man and a Turkish girl. They were all in the living room/kitchen chatting. I had a feeling it was about me but, when I joined the chat, I found out the subject was a probable winter break for the current season of the Premier League.

Seconds after I laid in bed, my mobile started to ring, my boyfriend. I decided to ignore him. I am ready for the best trip of my life. I decided to take a shower and go see the city lights, now that I wasn't afraid I'd have to sleep on the pavement with a large red luggage.

I started a conversation with some natives on the street and they all said the same thing. "Welcome to the toon". I saw a bridge and before I could reach halfway through, I noticed it was bouncing slightly, realizing then it freaked me out. Therefore, I made my way

back to the safe non-bouncing ground. At the end of the way, I saw a pub, which looked special due to the coloured lights on the walls and a painting of David Bowie with a red lightning on his pale face. It reminded me he had recently passed away, and I decided to head inside to lessen my curiosity.

I sat on a stool behind the counter. The bartender was serving tap beer so I ordered one. It was my first drink ever and I was surprised by its sweetness. I reached the conclusion it was a honey brew, a pleasant surprise. The glass was enormous, just what I'd expected after the British movies I'd watched. It was written Guinness, although I was having craft beer. The glass measure is called pint. I googled to understand the measure and found out that 1 litre is roughly 1.75 pints.

The pub is small and it is not crowded, just some tables on my side and some people who look like natives at them. By the moment I'd realized I was the only person sitting next to the counter, a couple of people went to the stage. There weren't many instruments, just a keyboard, a mike, one guitar and a kick and a snare drum. They played Ashes to Ashes, a song I knew due to Steph's influence.

Other people followed in what turned out to be an ode to Bowie. A guy finally took an electric guitar to the stage, which was shared among the players in the pub who took turns, and it turned out most people around were musicians. They played Sound and Vision, The Man who Sold the World, Life on Mars and when it got to the chorus of the Starman song, all the instruments but the kick stopped and everyone at the pub started singing the song a Capella. Some people shouted words I could not comprehend. Luckily enough I knew the chorus. I did not know the last song they played and before people started to leave, I saw the singer coming closer to me to return to his table.

'Excellent lad! What album is that one from?' I said

'Blackstar, album and song. Unfortunately, he died of cancer two days after the release.'

I decided it is now my favourite Bowie song. As I started feeling tired due to jet lag, I returned to my shared flat and fell asleep.

In early January I had my first class in College. I arrived late because of the weather, my Chuck Taylors weren't made for walking on wet snow, so I had to go back to my flat and change into boots.

Bruce is our teacher. I never asked him but he should've been in his fifties. He had white hair showing and was a considerably knowledgeable man that led me to criticise my own way of phrasing sentences in English to express my thoughts and opinions. At the end of the morning class, I introduced myself and I found out two boys from class were also Brazilian, specifically from this intensely warm place called Bahia. My hometown could be hot at times, but the drizzling weather is recurrent, which is a great mix.

During the break before afternoon class, I went to grab a bite with the boys. I chose French fries with garlic sauce, a thing I'd not even dreamt could be such a perfect match. The boys invited me to go to Perdu with some international friends that night. According to them, a nightclub full of students, which plays indie music. I accepted the invitation and we headed back to class, which had already started without us. Now I know why we Brazilians have this weird bad fame. We get along quickly among ourselves and we forget about anything else.

Winter, Newcastle – 2016

Perdu: IV

I hurriedly made my way back to my flat after class, eager to change into my party clothes. As I stepped out onto the streets, I couldn't help but notice the vibrant array of lights illuminating the cityscape, creating a mesmerizing atmosphere. Curiously, the air seemed to carry a faint aroma of chocolate, adding an unexpected twist to it.

Arriving at the nightclub, I was immediately attracted by the light sign that read "Perdu" at the entrance. Inside, the space was full of young people enthusiastically dancing to indie anthems. I had never been to a nightclub before, so I wondered if it was always like that.

As I let loose of worrying too much, I met a group of Europeans who were remarkably friendly. Engaging in conversation, they suggested that I tried a Jägermeister Bomb. I decided to give it a shot. When I tasted the sweet concoction, I felt my desire to dance the night away fuelled.

By the time the club was nearly as full as it could get, my attention was inexplicably drawn to a solitary redheaded girl standing across the dance floor. She stood out amidst the crowd, wearing a sleek black top and apparently the same model of red Chuck Taylors I had. There was an undeniable pull, and I found myself attracted to her presence.

Summoning a surge of courage, I made my way towards her, determined to strike up a conversation. As I neared her, I caught sight of a rainbow bracelet adorning her arm, her eyes subtly catching the light from the spots. I was uncertain as to my own intentions. Was I attempting to flirt with this girl? The idea of hitting on another girl had been foreign to me, until that moment I pictured myself starting a conversation, even pondering on what I should say to catch her attention.

Despite my inner turmoil, I couldn't resist the pull any longer.

Taking a deep breath, I took a leap of faith and approached the redhead, hoping that I wouldn't embarrass myself. However, as I got close enough, I realised I had not thought out my next move, or even the line.

'Are you gay?' I strangely uttered.

'Well, it depends. Do you want to kiss me hun?' She promptly responded, a twisted smile on her face, as she found my strangeness and insecurity her newly found hobby.

'I… Uh… I don't know.' I said. It sounded curt, but to state my side, I really had no idea.

'Then come back when you are sure hun.' She said. Abruptly ending my hope of finding anything about her.

I went back to my friends and when they asked me if I knew the girl, I dismissed the topic. My gaze remained fixated on her, my attraction growing stronger. I couldn't help but think about what her lips would taste like. I found myself speculating if she was wearing a cherry gloss, and if it really tasted like cherry.

The hours flew by, filled with stolen glances – not only, but mostly mine – and the night began to wind down. The girl didn't seem to stop dancing, despite the men who constantly hit on her. When it was due time to exit the club, I found myself standing on the sidewalk, contemplating my next move, thinking of something to say that would not make me look like the horniest idiot around. It was then that I spotted the redheaded girl, a cigarette between her lips, rummaging through her purse, seemingly searching for something.

That was it. Seizing the opportunity, I approached her, clutching a pink lighter I had instinctively taken from an acquaintance made that night. My stomach churned with anticipation. Nevertheless, I mustered the courage to light her cigarette, surprising her with my unexpected presence once again.

'So, then you have decided.' Now, she had a fixed gaze on

my breast, passing to my eyes.

I didn't think much. I took the cigarette from her lips and kissed them. They were smooth and inviting.

'I live five minutes from here, do you wanna walk me over?' I said.

'I bet a pint on you that you do not live that near.' She provoked.

Five minutes later I lost a pint, but safe to say I found out more about the person I am.

'Here we are.' I looked at her with wanting eyes.

'Should I get my pint upstairs?' She asked me.

'If you are willing to take wine instead'. I replied.

'I am more interested in just having a nice time with you'.

During my last month in England, Olivia, the redhead wearing the rainbow bracelet, joined me on a trip through the enchanting landscapes of northern England and Scotland. Our first stop was the historic city of York, the architecture was amazing. The cobbled streets and ancient walls made a good excuse for taking pictures.

Continuing our adventure, we made our way to the city of Edinburgh. The Scottish capital bewitched us with grand castles and picturesque landscapes. We wandered through the charming alleys of the Old Town, living the authentic Scottish experience. It was during this time that I had my first cigarette. As the smoke filled my lungs, it felt like a peculiar sensation of consuming the very essence of the air. The strange environment, added to a new sensation, made me feel more alive than ever.

In our travels, our connection deepened, but as my time in England was close to an end, we embraced the memories we had created, which would always hold a special place in my hearts. On my last night in the UK, she offered me a joint, and we smoked in her flat before I took a ride to the airport. "Special occasions deserve unusual sensations", she would say.

Summer, Newcastle – 2016

Rainbow Bracelet Girl: V

Olivia found herself once again at a nameless nightclub. The semester had just ended. As the night progressed, she grew increasingly bored and decided to call a close friend for a change of scenery.

Leaving the party behind, Olivia made her way to her friend's flat. Inside, she found her friends, Mary and two other girls sitting on the couch. A bottle of whiskey sat on the table, with each of the girls holding a glass and indulging. On the table, there was a game involving a coin and a mug. The goal was to hit the coin on the table and make it land inside the mug. As an incentive, lines of cocaine were laid out, serving as the prize for successfully completing the challenge.

A desire for excitement took hold of Olivia. She took the coin from Mary's fingers and, with a steady hand, effortlessly accomplished the trick on her very first attempt. The coin landed perfectly inside the mug. Mary, impressed by Olivia's skill, poured a glass of whiskey and handed it to her, a metal straw clutched.

'You're the winner, be my guest.' Said Mary. 'I am not feeling like doing coke, thanks.'

'Don't be a party wrecker! Take your prize, as a lady does.'

'Yes, Olivia, just one to welcome the fun.' One of the girls on the couch said.

'We know you want it' The other girl said.

'You know I can't stop when I start' Olivia said.

Olivia could not resist the temptation. Olivia leaned forward, placing the two lines in front of her, and snorted them. The rush hit her almost instantly, and she followed it up with a generous sip of whiskey, the burning sensation mixing with the lingering taste of the drug.

As time passed, two hours slipped away in a blur of intoxication. The whiskey bottle had been emptied, and the cocaine had vanished, leaving only a lingering sense of regret and emptiness. The high had faded, leaving Olivia feeling both physically and emotionally drained. She looked around the room, her gaze landing on the remnants of her indulgence.

The allure had faded, replaced by a sense of emptiness.

'Let's call Bob, we need some other rounds. Do you have cash Olivia?' Mary asked. 'I am all out, thanks to our dealer friend.'

'I have some hundred pounds I have saved, but I guess I can manage.' Olivia said.

'Yes, for the old times, please' Mary insisted.

Olivia took four hundred pounds from her purse and gave them to Mary.

'Father, can you please help me?' Olivia begged, on the phone.

'You haven't found a job in one year, I can't afford your rent anymore. In addition, I have sent you money for three months' rent in advance. What happened?

'I was robbed.' 'Again?'

'Yes.' Olivia insisted.

'I can't believe in you anymore. I will still pay for your tuition, but directly to the university now. If you can't find a job, come back home'. Daddy hangs up.

'Please Mary, you need to help me, you're my best friend'. Olivia begged once again. 'If I can't pay rent I'll have nowhere to go'.

'Don't put me on a cross, you know you've snorted your money up. Go get a job, stop begging.' Mary replied.

'Can you at least save a line for me tonight? I am all sober and I need some medicine to clear my mind'.

'Really? Again?' Mary said. 'Yes.'

'I am sorry, I can't help you this time'. Mary hangs up.

...........

PART 2: DARK DESCENT

Summer, São Paulo – 2016

Dream: VI

I find myself standing in the school's grand theater, I'm sixteen. As I make my way through the bustling rows of seats, I can feel the excitement building within me. However, as I ascend the staircase leading to the stage, I am suddenly struck by the realization that I am the only one not dressed in the costumes of the play. It dawns on me that it is the premiere. All eyes are on me, the late arrival who should already be performing by now.

The play is a tale of three foreign brothers who stumble upon a remote village in the northeast of Brazil. These brothers encounter three enchanting sisters, each trapped under the oppressive rule of their domineering father. As the relationships between the couples begin to blossom, they face interference from three older women who are desperate to marry the brothers.

In the original script, I was meant to marry the youngest brother. However, throughout the course of the play, I dropped subtle hints that I had eyes for someone else - my high school crush. When the moment arrives for the couples to unite for their happy endings, I ignore my assigned partner and instead kiss the oldest brother, my crush. Surprisingly, this unexpected twist does not come as a surprise to the audience. In that single moment, I single-handedly changed the course of the entire play.

This deviation from the rehearsed script leads to my subsequent expulsion from the theater group after the presentations were over. Yet, despite this, my fellow actors regard me as a legend. The other presentations continued as planned, adhering to our weekly rehearsals. However, there is an undeniable longing from the crowd, a yearning for the turn of events they witnessed during the premiere.

As I awaken from my dream, I remain motionless, desperate to hold onto the fragments of this dream. It feels more than just a mere dream, it is a recollection from my forgotten past, one that had been buried beneath a layer of stage fright.

Now, again in the present, at the age of eighteen, it is early morning. The room is enveloped in darkness, and I reach for my water bottle, taking a sip of refreshing water. As I rest my head on the pillow, I yearn to return to my memory, just to thank the crowd.

Summer, São Paulo – 2016

Break Up: VII

As I hear the raindrops tapping against the window, a wave of nostalgia washes over me, carrying me back to the United Kingdom. It's not just the weather that I long for, but also the sensations I shared with my international friends, the nights out and my affair.

So far, I had been ignoring the existence of my boyfriend. Following a current of intrusive thoughts, I decided to pick up my mobile and dial his number. My heart flutters with anticipation as I wait for him to answer. Not an anticipation out of longing, but rather the feeling you get when your bank makes a miscalculation and takes more money from your account than they should. You just want the restitution and the problem solved. He was my problem. To my relief, the problem himself answered on the second ring.

'Clarice? Are you back in Brazil?' He said. 'Yes'. I answered, shortly.

'What happened? God, I am happy you're not dead.' 'No, I am not dead.' I replied

'I am furious, I mean, why wouldn't you answer my calls?' He said. 'I didn't feel like it. Sorry'.

'What about us? Don't you care anymore?' He insisted.

'I want to break up'. I said, coldly.

'You can't be serious. Has Catherine told you anything? She is a liar, don't believe in that triple-faced woman'.

Catherine was the only thing close to a friend I had at work. A fellow teacher.

Though a flicker of curiosity ignited, questioning what he meant by stating her name in fear, I made a conscious choice not to let it consume me. I chose not to dwell on it.

'I have to go, ok? I hope you understand.'

As I hung up the phone, a troubling thought crept into my mind. Could it be possible that whatshisname was having an affair with Catherine? They had always been exceptionally close, and my intuition couldn't help but raise suspicion.

In an attempt to distract myself from these distressing thoughts, I tried to focus on the memories of my recent trip, where I explored the city center and discovered a new old building a day. However, the weight of the breakup began to overshadow any joy. The tears welled up uncontrollably, and I could no longer hold back negative emotions.

I then decided to take a shower. The hot water over me, masking the tears streaming down my face. Overwhelmed and physically drained, I found myself unable to remain standing. I sat onto the cold bathroom floor, instinctively covering my eyes with my hands, hoping to shield myself from the pain.

As I sat there, a wave of introspection washed over me. I questioned my sadness. Was the two-year bullshit relationship not enough to warrant a breakup? But, deep down, I knew that something had changed within me. I had grown, evolved, and perhaps, we had grown apart. The realization was bittersweet.

Maybe, I am a different person now.

When I was a child, my cousin kindly passed down his Sega Mega Drive to me, and it quickly became a prized possession.

Amongst the games I had, Sonic the Hedgehog stole the show. I would spend countless hours in the game, a wide grin on my face as I played Sonic through each stage, diligently collecting every ring in sight. My ultimate goal was to defeat Robotnik in the end.

Unfortunately, my journey came to an abrupt halt when my console broke down, just as I was about to crack the pattern of Robotnik's final destruction machine. The frustration was immense, and I couldn't shake off the disappointment of not being able to complete the game.

Determined to recapture that feeling of gaming, I made it my mission to invest in a modern console. I took the opportunity when I visited one of the largest malls in all of Europe. There, I found a glacier white PlayStation, which caught my attention with its sleek design.

Without hesitation, I decided to make the purchase. The console came with a game of my choosing, and after careful consideration, I settled on a stealth game. It now had the potential to transport me into another world, temporarily freeing me from any sorrow or disappointment. However, I decided it was not enough, and that I needed something else.

I rummaged through my purse until I found a crumpled banknote. With a sense of anticipation, I stepped out of the house and walked around the neighborhood. As I wandered aimlessly, a peculiar sight abruptly seized my attention. A group of individuals, seemingly lost in a haze of smoke, was gathered near the pavement, puffing away on their pipes. The smell of tobacco and a hint marijuana lingered in the air. Intrigued, I found myself drawn towards a set of stairs leading to a dimly lit alley, so I lit a Marlboro and went down the stairs.

As I approached, I saw a man crouched beside a black gate. In his hand, he clutched a banknote. Through a small, inconspicuous hole in the gate, an unseen hand eagerly reached out, snatching away the banknote. In return, the crouching man was given five small capsules that looked like cocaine.

Caught in a moment of shock, my gaze inadvertently locked with the man's piercing eyes. In that instant, a mischievous smile crept across his face. His expression conveyed a silent understanding, a new addict, he must've thought, as if implying that I had stumbled upon a world beyond my own. Uncertain of what I had just witnessed, unsettled by the man's sinister grin, I approached the black gate.

'You're in the right place, doll.' A voice behind the gate uttered.

I crouch by the black gate and put my banknote through the hole.

'What's your drug of choice?' A young male voice speaks. 'Well, what have you got?'

'A lot.' He said naturally.

To which I responded 'I want weed'.

As I am given pot involved in plastic, the size and shape of what looks like two little fingers, I try to leave the dim alley at once, but through the hole a hand grabs mine.

'Don't leave yet doll, I have some coke here, wanna join me?' The voice says as the grip on my hand tightens.

'Let me be, asshole!' I burn his hand with the tip of my cigarette.

I put the weed in the pocket of my jeans and make my way to the street through the alley, toward home.

I reached into my bag and retrieved a pack of Rizlas and a pouch of tobacco Olivia had given me. Carefully, I placed them on the paper. Anticipation coursed through my veins. Using my nails, I broke apart the buds of the marijuana, ensuring the perfect blend with the tobacco. My fingers grasped the rolling paper, feeling its thin texture as I rolled the joint.

My movements became fluid and I licked the paper, sealing the edges, and with a final flick of the wrist, the joint was complete.

I brought the well-rolled joint to my lips, it was time to light it now. I retrieved a pink bic lighter, the one I used to light Olivia's cigarette. I lit the tip of the joint, allowing the fire to eagerly consume the paper. As the smoke began to curl and rise, a sense of liberation washed over me.

Mindful of the scent, I chose to smoke by the open window, allowing the cool breeze to carry away any traces of smell. My gaze wandered to the sky, where the clouds seemed to transform into funny shapes of cartoons. In a moment of whimsy, I could have sworn Bugs Bunny waved a hand in my direction. Laughter bubbled up within me, escaping through a burst.

With the joint now reduced to a mere butt, I flicked it through the window, watching it disappear. It was the first time I had managed to finish a joint on my own.

Feeling high, I turned the glacier white PS4 on again. The joint had left me in a state of a floaty bliss, enhancing the anticipation of the gaming.

After successfully infiltrating the enemy base and neutralizing the soldier guarding the hostage, I carefully hoisted the scientist onto my shoulder. Aware that returning through the small secret passage was not an option, I quickly assessed my escape route.

With limited options available, I opted for the side window.

As I prepared to toss the hostage out of the window, my heart sank as a surveillance camera caught sight of us. The enemy was alerted, and within moments, four soldiers armed with automatic rifles appeared, ready to engage. Reacting swiftly, I aimed for headshots, taking down two of the soldiers with precision. But, before I could eliminate the remaining threats, something happened.

In a cruel twist of fate, one of the soldiers shot the hostage, ending her life in an instant. A painful game over message flashed across the screen, a harsh reminder of the mission's failure.

Disheartened, I realized that perhaps I should take a break and eat something before attempting any further gameplay.

Heading to the kitchen, I set on making a sandwich. The flavors mingled on my taste buds and satisfied my hunger. With my belly now full, I made my way back to the living room and sank into the softness of the sofa. I closed my eyes, hoping for a brief nap. I felt the warmth of the room and my mind drifting away from the game.

Winter, São Paulo – 2016

Internship: VIII

In the law office where I am currently interning, I am surrounded by a dynamic group of interns and experienced lawyers. The office layout is designed in a way that the partners have their own separate rooms, which are enclosed by glass walls, while our desks are located in a more open area.

After returning to my home, I enrolled in law school and was fortunate enough to land this internship opportunity. There are three other girls and two boys who share the same desk. Our desk is like a large table with six seats, creating a collaborative workspace.

The boys in our group have a tendency to have loud conversations and can sometimes be a bit nosy, while the girls often remain focused on their tasks, constantly reading and typing away. Due to our relatively junior status, our desk has humorously been labeled the kid's table, in comparison to the other tables occupied by more experienced workers. Our team partner, who holds a significant role in the office, is seldom seen around as she frequently embarks on trips to visit our clients.

I spent the morning and early afternoon engrossed in my work, diligently drafting reports on various passenger claims. This included cases involving delayed flights, cancelled flights, misconnections, and overbooking. Despite the low complexity of these cases, I must admit that I enjoy my new job. Initially, it took some time to become familiar with the process of writing up reports for air carriers, but I find it fun. As time went on, I quickly became accustomed to reading through the initial claims.

During our break, my fellow interns and I decided to take a break for a snack. Although the break is officially fifteen minutes, it has become a routine for it to last a little over half an hour. Today, my peers invited me to join them in a nearby bakery. I wanted to talk to the other interns and take a breather and I gladly accepted. At the bakery, we each ordered refreshing smoothies and indulged in coxinha, a fried snack of chicken.

As we sat at our table, loudly in conversation and enjoying our treats, a group of interns from the tax team happened to pass by. Among them were two girls and a strikingly handsome young intern, dressed impeccably in a black suit paired with a stylish blue tie. Without a doubt, he was the most elegantly dressed intern I had encountered so far. They decided to join us after placing their orders at the counter.

As our conversations continued to flow, I discovered that the charming young man's name was Nathan. From the moment we started talking, there was an instant connection between us. We shared a similar sense of humor and found ourselves immersed in each other's stories and experiences. It was a nice surprise to have made such a connection during a simple lunch break, and I couldn't help but feel excited about the possibility of getting to know Nathan a bit more.

With a sly smile, I approached Nathan, letting my eyes linger on his athletic form.

'Impressive catch! You must have some serious skills on the field.' I said, playfully teasing him, as he caught a football from across his desk.

Nathan looked up

'Oh, you have no idea.' He replied, his voice filled with confidence. 'Don't you aerials have a printer of your own?' He sent the ball flying back to another boy on the other side of their table.

'It's not working.' I grabbed the printed-paper and headed back to my desk to fill the form.

Shortly after, Nathan arrived at our table and waited by our printer as a form was printed.

'Hey nerd, what are you doing here?' I said, surprised. His new glasses gave him a nerdy look.

'I am testing your newly fixed printer. I just restarted it, did you even try?' He gave out a fun smile. 'You can continue using our printer if you want, rumours are our ink is blacker over there.' As he said it, I couldn't help but smile.

With each conversation, I found myself drawn to him like a magnet, unable to resist his charm and wit. The printer became our excuse to cross paths. His clever comebacks and genuine interest in my life ignited a fire within me. Time seemed to stand still whenever we talked by that printer. The world faded away, leaving only the two of us, lost in our own little bubble of laughter and connection.

When we exchanged documents, our fingers would brush against each other, sending electric shocks through my body. It was in those fleeting touches that I felt the undeniable chemistry between us.

One afternoon, as I pressed the button to summon the elevator, I eagerly anticipated reaching the smoking area on the ground floor. As the elevator doors gracefully slid open, I stepped out into a serene environment adorned with a small, enchanting fountain and a lush green space, serving as a haven for the building's smoking community. As I made my way through the few smokers, my eyes caught sight of Nathan, a familiar face, approaching from a distance.

'What's up Clarice?'

'I am fine.' I shyly replied.

'So then why do you look so worried?' He said as he touched my arm. I could feel my high ground breaking.

'It's because I need to introduce myself to the founding partner today, he wants to meet me in person to talk about my litigation reports.' As I finished talking, I gave out a sad smile.

'That's brilliant, what's bad about that?' He sounded interested.

'It is just that I have never left my table to any other place than the bomboniere and your team's printer.' I feel ashamed now that I spoke it. ' It is just that the office is enormous'.

'I will give you a tour around, come with me.' Nathan said as he grabbed my hand.

His loud voice caught the attention of his friends, who playfully winked at us or offered thumbs-up gestures as we strolled past.

Nathan, ever the charismatic person, began to guide me through the various teams that comprised our organization. He first presented to me the torts team, headed by Charles, a partner known for his discreet indulgence in CBD-infused vaping when he believed no prying eyes were observing him through the office's glass partitions. Moving along, we reached the labor team, where Nathan revealed a startling revelation about a former colleague from my university days. It turned out that she had been terminated after experiencing a breakdown that led to the destruction of her computer's screen.

Continuing our tour, we arrived at the corporate law team, where Nathan proudly introduced his closest colleague, Dan, an effortlessly cool intern who had once daringly worn sported jeans and sandals to the office on his birthday. Unfortunately, fate had conspired against him, as he was unexpectedly summoned to attend a crucial client meeting on that very same day.

Lastly, we arrived at the tax team, where Nathan playfully told me there was an ardent admirer of mine who thought of daily excuses to approach his crush and talk.

Finally, Nathan pointed out the founder's office, telling me to use some humor upon meeting him, but with a warning not to jest about his baldness, as it was a sensitive topic for him.

'The founder's office is right there, say something funny and he'll love you, just don't make fun of his baldness, alright?!' He said.

All this caught me by surprise, I didn't expect Nathan could be so lovely and caring. I let go of Nathan's hand and paused by the door to think of something funny and entered the room.

'Hey Mr. Edgar, nice day to take a dive right?' Rain was pouring outside.

'Sorry, but who are you?' Mr. Edgar put on a serious face, he does not seem like the funny type after all.

'I am the intern you summoned, Clarice'. Now I am blushing.

'Sit here, my friend in the airline sent me an e-mail yesterday, I want to show it to you'.

The email read: Great job drafting of the litigation evaluation forms, it has been very helpful for us.

A significant shift has occurred in my life. My relationship with Nathan has evolved into something truly special. He has become a constant presence, always eager to talk and brighten my day. His genuine care and attention have made an impact on me.

This evening, Nathan has managed to convince me to deviate from my usual routine. Instead of attending my university classes, he has persuaded me to join him at a bar.

Interestingly, I have noticed that I've started to form more friendships in my workplace than in my university. The bonds I've forged with my colleagues have become stronger, and the office has become a place of joy. It's a refreshing change from my initial days.

'Are you ready?' Nathan said, giving a large smile.

'It is still 8pm, do you not have work to do?'

'Rafael is doing my paperwork today, I promised I will cover for him tomorrow.' Nathan said.

As my friend noticed the tone of the conversation, she kindly offered to do my remaining three forms so that I could join Nathan. It was so nice of her, though I am sure I will have to pay her back eventually. At the pub, I found myself waiting for Nathan's return from the counter. When he finally appeared, in one hand, he effortlessly balanced two bottles of beer, while on the other hand, he held a full glass of cognac.

'Are you gonna drink that all?' I asked

'We are. Today is a special day, our first date.' He said.

'You didn't specifically ask me to go on a date with you'. I implied.

'Should I make it official then?' He joked.

'Yes.' I suggested

'Do you want to go – or continue being – on a date with me Clarise?' 'Yes, but I am not gonna drink all that up by myself, I need help.'

'Great! Just give me a second, I need to go to the toilet.' He said, as he left the table.

As Nathan reappeared, a conspicuous residue of white powder lingered subtly beneath his nostrils. The sight caught my attention, raising an unspoken question within me. However, I chose to remain silent, unwilling to interrupt the flow of the moment. With a swift motion, he grasped the cognac glass, tilting it towards his lips. In a single gulp, he drank it whole, leaving no trace behind.

'How do you like the office?' He asked, suddenly cleaning his nose with his sleeve. I wonder if my eyeing had caught his attention.

'A ton of work. Besides that it is great.' I replied.

'Yeah, interns are expected to overwork, that is how you get promoted to lawyer when you graduate.'

'Do you think we're gonna make it that far?' I asked.

'Dear, we're gonna rule this shit, the youngest partners to make it to the top'. He raised his beer. 'A toast to our future'.

The clink of our glasses made the moment even more special. With the last sip, he enveloped me in a warm, affectionate hug, his embrace providing comfort. I nestled my head gently on his broad shoulder, feeling a sense of security in his arms. And, in that intimate moment, our lips met in a passionate kiss.

Summer, São Paulo – 2017

Camping: IX

Nathan and I decided to go camping in a county called Paranapiacaba. We took the train on Saturday morning and then the bus to arrive at a trail to the campsite. It would be a two-hour walk, and we were carrying only two backpacks and a tent. On the way, we stopped at some crossing rivers and waterfalls to kiss and take some pictures. We arrived at the campsite before sunset and we set the tent. As we entered the tent, Nathan opened his backpack and took a zip lock out.

'What is that?' I said

'I brought MDMA. There's LSD in the backpack too'. He was paying much attention to what my reaction would be.

'Are you sure? Is this shit strong?' I tried to look in doubt as to whether to do it or not. Nevertheless, I really was in doubt.

'Just enough for us to have fun'. He tried to dismiss the topic.

Nathan put his finger on his mouth and later inside the zip lock to bring it back to his inner cheek. He suggested me to do the same. At first, I was unsure but after he explained it was just a party drug, I decided to try it.

We went to the bonfire where people gathered, the sun was now set and the fire lit the place and people's faces.

'Can you feel it?' He said.

'I feel like dancing' I replied.

There were some people dancing to a girl playing the guitar, and we joined them. We tried some risky dance moves and as the night unfolded, we used MDMA repeatedly, even sharing it with some other campers. When the MDMA was over, we decided to go back to our tent. There, we made love promises and decided to get married when we graduated.

On Sunday, we woke up early to see the sunrise. Nathan took the two LSD papers he'd brought and we left the tent. It was not Nathan's first time there so he knew just where to take me. He took my hand and led me to a waterfall nearby, there we sat and kissed. I received a small piece of paper, using his tongue, he put it under mine.

'What will it be like?' I asked.

'You'll see, it's like a lucid dream.' He replied, passionately.

After twenty minutes or so, the sun started to rise and I could see the water sparkling and the birds flying around the waterfall. I realized I was not my old self anymore, I was in love and passionate. I felt love for the water, for the birds, for the weather as well as for the man sitting in front of me, Nathan, who was now smiling and looking at me.

'Isn't it the best sensation ever?' He urged.

'It is great, I'm just afraid I'm not myself anymore, I can't control my feelings.' I really could not.

'And could you control your feelings before? Just let it flow.' He insisted.

The office is currently organizing an exciting trip to the countryside. As part of this trip, we have the opportunity to attend a thrilling rodeo event filled with captivating shows. Plus, to top it off, there will be an open bar for everyone.

Initially, I had expressed my regret to Nathan about not being able to join the trip. However, to my surprise, later in the day, I received a message from Steph informing me that he had gone ahead and purchased a ticket for me. This was a huge relief, as I had recently spent all my money on purchasing law books to keep up with the latest doctrines. Thankfully, my father came to my rescue.

I was overjoyed by this turn of events and couldn't wait to share the news with Nathan. Determined to find him, I made my way to his usual spot in the office, only to discover that he was nowhere to be found. Instead, I approached a friend of his, who happened to be sitting in his chair, clutching an American football.

'Hey, do you know where Nathan is?' I asked.

'He is on the ground floor, but I wouldn't go if I were you". He grimed.

I took the elevator that goes to the ground floor. As I made my way to the smoking area, my eyes caught a glimpse of Nathan's back. To my astonishment, he was engaged in a kiss with a newly hired blonde intern. Between her fingers, behind her back, was a cigarette.

For a brief moment, I stood frozen, unable to process what I was witnessing. Confusion and anger began to surge through me. Determined to confront the situation, I mustered the courage to approach the couple. Without a second thought, I reached out and took the cigarette from the intern's fingers, causing her to release her hold on Nathan. As her gaze met mine, a mixture of shock and apprehension filled her eyes. Nathan's attention swiftly shifted towards me, his eyes following mine.

Without hesitation, I unleashed my frustration and disappointment by slapping Nathan across the face before he could even say anything. I turned my back on the bewildered couple and took a drag from the cigarette I stole. My mind clouded with uncertainty and confusion. Unsure of where to go or what to do next, I simply left the scene, leaving behind a stunned Nathan who shouted out my name in a desperate attempt for an explanation.

In response to his plea, I coldly retorted: 'Do not follow me, you prick.'

Feeling lost and overwhelmed, I aimlessly wandered through the quarter, my mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. I purchased a pack of Camel, Nathan's favourite, and continued my aimless stroll. In an attempt to numb my racing thoughts, I chain- smoked through the entire pack, lighting the next one on the butt of the previous.

The nicotine rush left me feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Realising I needed a moment to collect myself, I stopped at yet another bar, this time craving something to counteract the effects of the cigarettes. I ordered a cup of the standard reheated coffee, typically found in bars, taking only a couple of sips before deciding I no longer desired it. Leaving the bar, I resumed my wandering, my mouth dry and parched as the packet of cigarettes was now empty.

In this state of confusion and turmoil, questions flooded my mind. What had just happened? How long had Nathan and the intern been involved? How many others were aware of their affair? The lack of answers only intensified my frustration and left me feeling even more lost.

Suddenly, as if to add to the chaos, my phone began to ring just as I entered the restroom of another bar. Closing the door behind me, I stared at the phone, contemplating whether or not to answer. It was Nathan. The ringing persisted, taunting me with the possibility of confrontation. With a heavy sigh, I finally decided to answer, bracing myself for whatever awaited me on the other side of the line.

'Where are you?' He sounds desperate. 'Do you even care?' I replied.

'I do. Everybody is worried sick about you. Moreover, your boss has called an urgent meeting. Where are you? I don't want you to get fired, Clarice.'

'Just shove it, let me be.' I hung up.

Feeling overwhelmed by the weight of the situation and the sudden wave of emotions, I struggled to maintain my composure. As I ended the phone call, the world around me seemed to spin, and the room felt unsteady. The combination of stress, anxiety, and the break up – of course it is a break up, should I even bother to make it clearer? - had finally caught up with me, manifesting in what appeared to be a panic attack.

Unable to hold back any longer, I stumbled towards the sink and retched, my body purging the emotional turmoil that had consumed me. Collapsing onto the floor, I sat there, feeling utterly defeated and overwhelmed by the swirling chaos within and around me

After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only about five minutes, there was a knock on the restroom door. Startled, I wiped the tears from my face and attempted to compose myself, though the remnants of my distress were still evident. Uncertain of who could be on the other side, I hesitated before mustering the strength to respond.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice trembling slightly. 'We need the restroom free'. A male voice uttered. I grabbed my mobile and started dialing.

'Steph, where are you?

Can you pick me up, please?'

Summer, São Paulo – 2017

Rodeo: X

In a moment of anger and betrayal, I decided to take everything in my possession that even lightly reminded me of Nathan and create a blazing bonfire. As the flames danced, I took a long drag from my cigarette, relishing in the sight of my memories with Nathan turning to ash. Among the items I had set apart, there were two beach shorts, two shirts, and a lone pair of socks. However, it was at this moment that I noticed something he had forgotten in my room - his backpack, hidden beneath my bed.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I began to sift through the backpack. To my surprise, it was mostly empty, save for the front pocket. Inside, I discovered eight zip locks. Considering the drugs he had taken on his recent camping trip, it did not come much as a shock when I stumbled upon a stash of cocaine within his belongings. While I tried to make the decision to set everything ablaze, I couldn't bring myself to destroy the zip locks.

Reflecting on our time together, I couldn't help but recall a certain incident at the pub. It was there that I should have recognized the telltale signs of his cocaine use - the faint residue of white powder lingering beneath his nose. Deep down, I think I already knew what it was, but I couldn't fully comprehend. Some people speak of it in the worst terms, warning of its destructive potential, while others continue to succumb to its temptations. The question that lingered in my mind remained: why?

On the day of our office outing to the rodeo, I couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and disappointment. Instead of the thrilling spectacle of bucking bulls and daring cowboys, the event turned out to be more of a boozy affair with various shows and entertainment. It dawned on me that traditional rodeos, with their animal performances, were not as feasible in Brazil due to the growing popularity of animal rights activism – thankfully.

As I made my way to the gathering point, my anticipation for seeing Nathan was nonexistent. I had a sinking suspicion that the blonde girl or perhaps another new romantic interest would accompany him. Even if he happened to be alone, I had no desire to engage in conversation or even exchange with him.

Upon arriving at the ground floor of the office, I was met with the sight of everyone congregating together. Nathan stood at the center, holding hands with his latest fling, captivating the attention of my friends. As they noticed my arrival, their gaze shifted towards me, and in their eyes, I could swear I detected a tinge of pity. It was as if they pitied me, and that realization only served to deepen my own self-pity. To me, pity is not just a sympathetic feeling, but rather another form of contempt and disdain directed towards someone.

I walked briskly towards the restroom, my mind consumed with a sense of desperation. Without giving it much thought, I reached into my pocket and retrieved a small zip lock bag. I spilled its contents onto the dry sink, four neat lines of powdered white cocaine. I quickly folded a twenty-dollar bill into a makeshift cone shape.

Time seemed to blur as I hastily snorted each line, barely taking seconds to inhale. In that fleeting moment, the rush of chemicals coursed through my veins, temporarily numbing the pain and self-pity that had enveloped me.

As I prepared to leave the restroom, I took a moment to clean my nose meticulously. I did not want any telltale signs of my recent misdemeanor to give me away. I then left the restroom, with a sense of urgency, I fumbled for a pack of cigarettes and lit one hastily. The smoke filled my lungs, shortly providing a small source of warmth in the frigid air that surrounded me. I felt it was suddenly much colder.

As I made my way towards the bus, I noticed the crowd of people gathering, ready to embark on our trip. I couldn't help but feel a chilling emptiness within me, not just physically, but emotionally as well. At that moment, the nickname "snow" for cocaine echoed in my mind, and I began to understand why. It was as if the substance had enveloped me in a cold, numbing blanket of adrenaline and fright.

My heart raced with conflicting emotions — I yearned for more, for the temporary escape and heightened state of being, but I also felt the weight of remorse slowly settling in.

At the event, we were thrilled to receive the coveted event's T- shirt, which not only granted us entry but also unlimited access to an array of refreshing beers on tap. With each sip of beer, my inhibitions seemed to fade away, prompting me to indulge in the party without restraint.

I occasionally paused to snort a line or two. Amidst the swirling haze of merriment, conversations with colleagues became a blur, blending into the lively symphony of music and laughter. Though fragmented memories remain, one particular recollection stands out, I kissed a young man from HR, although the details remain hazy.

The event itself was nice enough. Country singers graced the stage and as the night progressed, a somewhat famous DJ took the center stage, playing a distinctive blend of music. The pulsating beats were electrifying and time seemed to melt away.

As the final moments of the event approached, it dawned on me that my supply of coke had been fully consumed. Eight zip locks. The realization brought a tinge of disappointment, as I boarded the bus that would transport us back home. Finding myself in my seat, I noticed the HR decided to sit next to me.

As the bus started, time seemed to pause shortly. 'Alice, are you okay?' The HR guy asked.

'Why?' I replied, smiling. The adrenaline rush still filled my senses.

'Your nose is bleeding. A lot.' He looked worried.

As I absentmindedly touched my nose, a sudden warmth and wetness greeted my fingertips. Panic surged through me as I realized my nose was bleeding, and it seemed to be flowing profusely. Hastily, I rummaged through my belongings, desperately searching for something to stem.

My eyes fell upon a spare white top, now tainted with the remnants of the white powder I had used to clean my face earlier in the restroom. Without a second thought, I pressed the fabric against my nose, hoping to halt the bleeding. The white cloth quickly absorbed the mingling stream of blood and cocaine, creating an unsettling visual for anyone to see.

As I glanced around, I noticed a girl sitting in the seat next to mine, her gaze locked upon the distressing sight before her.

Alarmed, she abruptly stood up and made her way to the front of the bus, I thought she sought assistance. It was then that I realized she approached the HR manager.

As the bus journey continued, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Whispers and sidelong glances circulated among the other passengers. Embarrassment washed over me, and I couldn't help but consider the consequences.

'Are you sure you are fine?' The HR guy asks. 'Yeah, it's the booze plus the weather. I'm okay.'

As the young man by my side rose from his seat and made his way towards the front of the bus, a wave of dizziness washed over me. The stress of the situation, the drug abuse and the loss of blood had taken its toll, and my eyelids grew heavy. The events of the day weighed on my mind as I succumbed to the lightheadedness, unable to fight the urge to sleep.

As my consciousness faded, I drifted into a deep slumber. In this state of surrender, my worries and anxieties shortly subsided, allowing me to escape the reality that had unfolded before me.

In my dreams, fragmented images and muddled thoughts danced hazily in my mind. They were a kaleidoscope of scenes and emotions, a surreal blend of regrets and hopes. Even if only temporary, sleep offered a escape from the realities of my new world.

...................

PART 3: BREAKDOWN

Summer, São Paulo – 2017

Made redundant: XI

The sun peeks through my bedroom curtains as I slowly awaken to the comfort of my own home. Confusion washes over me as I struggle to recall the events that led me from the bus window seat to my cozy bed. As I try to make sense of this perplexing situation, the mobile phone ring pierces the silence, jolting me from my thoughts. My belly hurts more than ever. Glancing at the screen, I am taken aback to discover that it is already midday and I have missed four phone calls.

I answer the call, my heart pounding with apprehension, bringing the phone to my ear, only to hear the stern voice of my boss on the other end. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as I listen to the words that shatter me: "You are fired". The news hit me like a freight train. I am speechless.

Winter, Brazil – 2019

Lockdown: XII

This year, unfortunately, I was unable to attend university due to the financial constraints and the coronavirus. It's sad as I only have one more year left to complete my graduation, but I am hopeful that I will be able to resume my studies once the lockdown is lifted.

Despite the challenges, I have managed to forge new friendships earlier this year, just before the pandemic struck. Among them, there is a couple with whom I often spend time at the local court, smoking weed. Today, I am planning to meet them once again.

Before heading out, I find myself in my bathroom, where I usually snort cheap cocaine, usually two or three lines every hour. Steph is always busy with work due to the pandemic. He is rarely at home.

As I sit at the court, engrossed in a book, I notice my friends approaching with warm smiles. We exchange hugs, as we are happy to see each other again. We settle down on the vibrant green field of grass, basking in the sun's gentle warmth.

Putting my book aside, I take my joint and pass it to the woman in our group. She takes a smooth drag, the sweet scent of marijuana lingering in the air. She retrieves a delectable piece of cake from her bag.

'Fruit cake. Want a piece?' She asks, smiling. 'Course'. I replied.

As I take a bite of the cake, a burst of flavors dances on my tongue, instantly captivating my senses. Each bite carries an intoxicating sweetness that seems to transcend mere taste. The flavors mingle with the pleasant haze of the joint, creating a heightened sense of euphoria.

I'm reminded of a time when I dropped LSD with Nathan. The intense connection to the present moment, the vivid colors, and the overwhelming feeling of love for everything around me.

In the cozy room where we gathered, the couple's warm presence always made me feel at ease. As we smoked and chatted, their genuine interest in my stories about my exchange and the office I used to work in, created an atmosphere of openness and connection.

The woman would often offer me a slice of cake. However, I never got to know much about the couple beyond these shared moments. They would listen attentively, offering comfort and understanding. I believe the delectable taste of the cake can be attributed to the fact that it has become my sole sustenance in recent times. Cocaine takes my appetite for food away. During my constant hunger pangs at home, I have resorted to either smoking a cigarette or doing a line in order to curb my appetite.

Summer, Brazil – 2020

House Party: XIII

Under the persuasion of my close friends, I reluctantly accepted their idea of hosting a party at my home, coinciding with the night when Steph would be occupied at the hospital. Not only did my so-called friends show up, but they also brought along four other people who were sporadically part of our circle. Despite my initial reservations, I consented to the gathering, primarily motivated by the idea of drinking until I am quite drunk at no cost. The guests arrived with vodka and marijuana.

As the night progressed, fueled by alcohol, I found myself almost drunk. The music enveloped the room, as we danced. I decided to take a quick break from the party, seeking a more intense high by snorting lines of cocaine.

When I returned, the woman from the couple I usually meet approached me with a drink that looked like an energy drink infused with vodka. Without hesitation, I eagerly consumed the drink in a single gulp. The potent mixture coursed through my veins, adding to the hazy blur that enveloped my senses.

Feeling the need for another escape, I excused myself to the bathroom, where I snorted more cocaine, feeling the numbing embrace of euphoria.

When I returned, I asked the woman:

'Why did the drink taste funny?' I was screaming, due to the loud music.

'It's the psychedelic mushrooms we've been adding to your cake, I had a lot dissolved in your drink too, you must be really tripping now. I need to talk to you, come with me to the balcony.'

I was so far away from reality I needed her help to get to the balcony. When we got there, she started a monologue I was just too drunk to understand completely.

'You will lose all your friends, and you'll have to do it yourself… Lose everything… Follow my words, do it as I say… You have to do what I've told you before the end of the week, and play it for us, then you need to go to the court, we'll be there to listen to you and everything will make sense, Okay? Play until sunrise, If you fail you'll have to go home and hurt yourself badly… It needs to be bad or otherwise it won't work and you won't ever be happy again, you will lose everything. Eat these mushrooms I have spared, it will help you get better… do it… Sleep now and do it. You need to try, it's your only chance'.

Suddenly, everybody was gone and my bedroom was clean and tidy, as no party had taken place. The woman was nowhere to be seen, I sat on my armchair and fell asleep. Until now, I wonder if she ever existed for real.

Summer, Brazil – 2020

Breakdown: XIV

A dreamlike haze settled upon my consciousness, unraveling memories of friendships both cherished and marred by pain, mingling with the intoxicating effects of the drugs coursing through my veins.

I rose from my seat and stumbled upon my guitar. I attempted to play a song that eluded my memory. Hours turned into days as I strummed and plucked, my fingers dancing across the strings in a desperate attempt to capture a melody that remained just beyond my grasp.

Days blurred together, the passing of time becoming a mere abstraction as the week neared its end. I did not sleep, sanity started slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. Whenever fatigue threatened to overtake me, I succumbed to another line or two, each hit granting me a temporary reprieve from the clutches of exhaustion.

In this haze of sleep deprivation and substance abuse, the world around me transformed into a surreal landscape, where reality and hallucination intertwined. The days blurred together, a disorienting carousel of music, intoxication, and elusive daydreaming.

As the sun began to set on a Sunday afternoon, my father entered my room unexpectedly. His gaze fell upon me. However, his eyes soon shifted to the desk, where the remnants of cocaine capsules lay scattered.

In that moment, his heart sank, and a mixture of concern, disappointment, and fear washed over his face. The sight of nearly a hundred empty capsules, served as a reveal of the depths of my addiction.

Silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by the weight of unspoken words and my father's tears, which made no sound but their echo in my soul was deafening. I could feel his desperation.

'I can't believe you are doing this shit!

I will take you to the hospital tomorrow and have you checked up for the other shit you're probably doing.' He shouted furiously.

SLAM. He locked the door on his way out.

Burdened by immense despair, I ascended to the balcony with my guitar in hand. Gazing down upon the dark empty street below, a profound fear gripped me. Determined, I put a chair adjacent to the protective glass, all the while fighting the inner demons that haunted my every thought.

Summoning my strength, I got on the chair, the weight of my emotions pressing down upon me. As I positioned myself, with my back turned towards the world outside, I spread my arms wide, as if surrendering to the unknown fate that awaited me after death. In that pivotal moment, I found myself literally on the edge.

Without allowing myself a moment's hesitation, I propelled myself to the fall. My heart raced, anticipating the release from anguish until I met the pavement.

Summer, Brazil – 2020

Somebody catch my fall: XV

As consciousness slowly returned, I found myself sprawled on the cold pavement, disoriented. A dull ache on my back, limbs, everywhere hurt. A reminder of the fall that had momentarily stolen my senses. Struggling to my feet, I gingerly attempted to take a step forward, only to be met with a sharp strike of pain, causing me to falter and limp, a physical manifestation of my internal torment.

In my disoriented state, a harrowing realization washed over me. I must have been unconscious for hours, as the day started to dawn.

Gasping for air, I grasped at the fragments of my shattered resolve, desperately trying to regain my composure. The realisation of my survival, of being denied the escape I had so desperately sought, only intensified the anguish that coursed through my veins. Each labored breath served as a haunting reminder of my anguish, a constant companion that clung to me these years, refusing to release its grip.

With each step feeling like a thousand spears piercing my foot, I hobbled my way to the local court, clutching my broken guitar close to my chest. Exhaustion gnawed at my bones, making coherent thoughts an elusive luxury. The relentless battle against sleeplessness had left me drained and disoriented. As the rain started to pour down mercilessly, the moment which I froze as my life sins flashed through my eyes.

When my heavy eyelids finally fluttered open again, I was met with another wave of desperation that seemed to engulf my entire being. I dragged my weary body towards home. Unlocking the front door, I shuffled through the dimly lit tool shed. Fumbling through the cluttered space, I finally found a toolbox. My trembling hands retrieved a soldering iron. I was propelled towards the restroom. With precision, I plugged the iron into the nearest outlet, the audible click of connection resonating in the small space. The air filled with a faint scent of burnt skin as the tip of the iron began to glow a searing red while I carved the side of my face.

I pressed the scorching metal against my flesh, etching lines of anguish onto my own face. The pain, a relentless companion, coursed through my veins. Despite the agony, I refused to succumb to a scream. Instead, I gritted my teeth, bearing the excruciating sting as a form of twisted catharsis.

In a frenzied state, I etched the words "love not" onto the canvas of my skin, the burning sensation blending with the raw ache of my soul. Each stroke of the iron became a desperate plea. The crimson trails of self-inflicted pain marred my visage.

As I laid on the cold floor of the kitchen, lost in my own torment, a familiar voice cut through the haze of despair.

Steph had entered the room. His concerned eyes met my cheek, showing a mixture of compassion and guilt. Without a moment's hesitation, Steph rushed towards me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around me, providing a warmth and solace I desperately needed in that moment. Tears now streamed down his face, his own pain mirroring mine as he held me close. We remained there, locked in that embrace, our tears mingling. In that moment, the walls of isolation crumbled, and the strength of our connection became a lifeline. Steph's tears spoke volumes, conveying the depth of his love and concern, a reminder that I was not alone in my struggles.

As the tears flowed, the weight on my chest lessened, not entirely lifted, but softened by the presence of someone who really cared, to what I was ever so much blind to. In that simple embracing, Steph had reminded me that love, in its purest form, could heal even the deepest wounds.

'I am so sorry sweetheart. We'll fix your face, I promise.' He said, in between sobs.

I fell fast asleep.

Summer, Brazil – 2020

Mental: XVI

I am flying a kite, far away from all of my problems, on a field of blue roses. The sun is shining hard. From afar, I hear my name.

'Alice, are you there?'

I open my eyes and see a woman in white clothes. 'Where am I?' It still hurts.

'You are in rehabilitation, in the emergency room, you have had a breakdown'.

'Where is my father?'

'You can call him tomorrow morning'. The nurse said. The room is desperately empty, apart from us.

I realise I am wearing a white gown.

'When am I gonna leave this place?' I ask.

'First, we need to understand why you've hurt yourself. Could you tell me why you did that?'

'I lost control a great while ago'.

'You'll spend some days with us'. The nurse said, as I closed my eyes and fell asleep again.

............

PART 4: HOPE

Spring, São Paulo – 2021

Gabriel: XVII

'Can anyone remind us of the twelfth tradition?' The host of the meeting said.

The middle-aged man sitting beside Clarice raised his hand.

'Anonymity is our pillar; all that is shared in a meeting should be kept here. Take the message not the messenger.'

'Do you want to share today, Gabriel?' The host asked.

'Hi, I am Gabriel and I am an addict. I am just out of rehab and it is strange because I thought I would have more peace of mind when it was all over. I am more afraid than ever, that is the plain truth. I look at my new sneakers and I remember the pair of brand new ones I sold to buy my drug of preference. I look at my mother's purse and I remember the times I ransacked it to get more money and use it to feed my compulsion. I am tired of being afraid. I don't feel like doing drugs anymore but my fear of relapsing is eating me alive. I am afraid I will be sick forever, as there's no cure for my disease,

Neither is there a cure for the fear I feel. I guess I must ramble on until I am not afraid anymore.'

Spring, São Paulo – 2022

Sarah, Harry and Lis: XVIII

'Hi, I am Sarah and I haven't used my substance of preference for 2 years and 8 months now. I identify with our friend here. I am sure that if I relapse I'll lose everything again. My family, my relationship, I might even lose my life because I probably won't be able to stop if I start it all over again. When I am sad, I feel the urge to make it stop by doing it again. When I am happy, I also feel that urge, just to get even happier. One day at a time, I am managing to remain sober.

'Be strong'.

'Keep on making it through'.

'Harry, would you like to share today?' The host asked.

'Yes. Good evening, friends. As I've told you before, I was homeless for four years during the height of my addiction. During the first months I slept at cheap hotels, and ate cheap snacks for my survival, but soon I found out I could use that money to buy more drugs. My mother died before I could fix my life and I regret it every day. Wherever she is now, I hope she's proud of me. I regret she could not see me happy again.'

'Don't stop now.' 'Be strong.'

Spring, São Paulo – 2023

Clarice: IX

'Hi, I am Clarice and I am a drug addict. I have been fighting addiction and attending these meetings for a time now. I am better, ever since I do not relapse. It is hard, I have quit drinking and I am sober now, but it does not erase my mistakes and my trauma.

However, it does lessen my burden. I cannot drink anymore, I've tried to have a beer or two but it always leads to my drug of preference. I have not quit smoking, this addiction for me is the hardest to overcome. At least it does not drive me mad like other substances did. This year I am moving abroad with my girlfriend. We have found a job in a small town in England. I hope it is a fresh start from all of this. I believe we can make it if we take one-step a day. I am very thankful, thanks again for listening and supporting me. It is possible to overcome addiction, if we take it for what it is: a disease we did not choose to have, but anyways a consequence of our actions.

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