You have your eyes closed, everything is dark. You try to open them, but there is something that prevents it from you. You don’t know where you are, you feel disoriented and all you remember is a strong blow to the nape of the neck, and then millions of whitish to after your eyes shining stars. You feel like a newborn child who discovers for the first time the world, everything is new to him and your senses begin to wake up. So you are at that time. The first thing you feel is stale air that enters your lungs as if you’ll open an ancient book and the dust accumulated for years between your pages flies around your nostrils, trying to enter them, but they are so many scrolls that the nose is blunt you and notes a strong itch that seems to reach the deepest part of your brain. You try to sneeze, but that feeling is not going. Slightly turning the head to move air to your around and so, get that smell fades gradually; but when you stick your face what seems to be the floor, a sour smell, as moisture from several days, makes you don’t.pile.it.up the nose and bounce your head to the starting position. While you try to regain your sense of smell, extend your hands on both sides of your body and stretch your fingers how long they are, feeling how the tendons and muscles tense under the thin layer of skin that covers them. Slowly, as if you temieras to find something that wasn’t to your liking, you’re posing the fingers on the surface in which you support. You remove them as fast as you can to feel something cold and hard under their weight. You are not quite sure what it is, so back them down slowly, and after several touches with the tips of the fingers, finally get to pose hand completely. Touch is cold as if it were a thick piece of iceberg that someone had placed there, but, at the same time, hard and smooth as freshly polished marble. Notes how the Palm of your hands start to hurt you. A burning stretching as electric current through your arms. Despite the pain, you slide your hands over the surface in search of any imperfection, but not find any irregularity, it seems that it is made for a perfect mold. You are still groping to your around, until you spend yourself in search of any wound or something strange that you might have. The first thing you do is take one of your hands to the Crown where it makes a sharp pain while that bothers you. When you get to the painful area, your hands encounter a thick liquid, similar to when you get churros in a good hot chocolate and you see with fascination how dark liquid falls back to the Cup with parsimony, as if he knew that it is being observed. It frotase the index finger and the thumb between them as if in that way you could determine what it is, but it is impossible. You decide to take that substance to your already clear nose-stained fingers and get close it enough to it; but you have to remove it at high speed to notice a strong odor to iron, as if you had put a piece of key that just break into the hole. That smell is familiar: blood. Get scared, you try to put you up, but you have stiff muscles. While you’re waiting to get it to be useful to you, you keep your Chin travel feeling rough and cracked skin under your fingers. You get up to the eyes and then understand why you can not open them: are covered by a thick gauze, as soft as a piece of cotton, but strongly tied around your head. You don’t understand anything. You are going to take it away when you hear a slight ringing in the distance. At the beginning they seem footsteps of small animals that run from one side to another on a wood surface; the creak under his light weight. The treads are doing more audible until you can preview how heavy boots tread firmly on your head and make crunching wooden beams. With every crunch, notes how fall small chips on your face and feel how adhere to it thanks to the sweat that has started to cover it, a sticky sweat. Note how the pores are opened with a slight popping sound and comes out drop by drop, to then expand as fine rain on your dry skin. Thick-soled boots begin to fall down stairs. The sound comes and goes, so you deduces that they are spiral. The stairs end and steps are still a little more until they stop completely. You can feel the heart beat throwing blood at full speed and how it flows through your veins, swelling them to their limit. You hear a door Squeak very close to where you are, so much so that that sound as crickets beginning to sing, you gets into the depths of the eardrum, as if it has echo and head you begins to hurt. Steps resume their March, the ground rumbles under your head with each tread as a war drum; your heart keeps pace. You hear the slight friction of the heel on the floor and your heartbeat accelerate when you feel it crouches next to you. You hear the breathing slow on your face and notes how the hairs of the arms is you ragged to the point that it hurts you. You feel that air changes, because no notes it as rarefied, even there is a new scent, one fresh and revitalising, as a wet soil when it just rain. Far away you think listening to a bird and its song seem joyous wedding bells. Get scared when you feel a warm hands on your arm; the Taco they look great and are rough, you feel the calluses from corns scraping your dermis. Grab it you with strength and strip you, making you get standing without any effort. Your legs tremble and are about to fall, but whoever is next to you, holds you. You pushed slightly forward and the smell of damp earth becomes more intense. A gentle breeze caresses your face, feel how gently rocking you the hair and enters through the pores of the scalp, causing you a pleasant tickling. Who you hold you still pushing and know that you’ve left when the hard and smooth texture of the soil, changed completely. Notes that feet sink slightly under your weight and the smell of fresh moisture you hit the face. The sounds become more intense. There is a constant buzz to you around: the leaves blown by the breeze sound when two pieces of paper rubbing slightly; the flapping of the birds are blended with their joyful songs. You need to get down and extend the hands. Groping topas with something soft that tickles you into the Palm, you grab it with strength and strips, get to the nose and breathe their fresh smell. It smells like freshly cut grass, that smell strong and soft that is printed in your nostrils, which is between sour and sweet, but fails to please all. You want to keep experimenting more, but who entered the room, before you lift with some abruptness. You keep you still not understand nothing of that. You can feel how that person raises his arms behind you and takes them to your head. Hear ripping something forcefully and suddenly the band covering you eyes falls in front of you. You blink several times, the light of the Sun bothers you. When you can open them, the colors that surround you are very bright, as if a huge focus was on the objects there is front of you and make it glisten with force. Finally your eyes get used to the bright light and colors hit you pupil: grass green contrasting with the green of the leaves of the trees, the dark brown of the trunks, some other fleeting blue and yellow of the sparrows that flit around, almost whitish blue of the sky and, above all, the reddish majestic King. It is the first time that you feel that way. You breathe and see things in a different way, in a way how you’ve done never before. But something inside you shout you that you wake up from your dream, that something does not fit at all in that idyllic situation. As if your brain wanted to do you remember in your nostrils again that smell rancid, feel the cold floor on your back and over your eyes that darkness seems to want to return. Then you remember where it had been made just a few minutes and begin to ask how you arrived there, which site is the one and why they are there. Then notes that some sharpening is piling slightly on the lower part of your back and you can feel the cold of the sheet over your shirt. Hear with clarity as your spine crunching to become straight, how your vertebrae Squeak to collide with each other due to the tension. You can feel how the person who is behind you is approaching your ear slowly and says in a low voice that run. Although you have not seen his face, the timbre of his voice is threatening, severe and harsh, as if he had just lifted. And you, without additional warnings, made to run without looking back with the heart to point snaps through the mouth.