My mother's screams grew more distant as we crossed through what appeared to be a luxurious mansion.
"God, are they really going to take me out of here? I don't want to! I don't want to be abandoned again!"
It was unfair. I had been reborn into a clearly wealthy family. A family that surely would have given me a happy life. I didn't want to be discarded again...
I clenched my jaw tightly, my chest burned with indignation. I was furious. It was all that damn old man's fault.
Why had they listened to him? How much power did the church have that it could even decide the fate of a high-born child?
My anger turned to sadness. Not only was I going to be abandoned, but I was also surely going to die as a newborn.
I felt tears running down my cheeks. Genuine tears. I'd given up pretending.
The freezing cold lashed my face the moment we stepped outside. I had never felt cold so intense that it burned my face. Even breathing was difficult. I felt my throat swell with each inhalation.
"How long has it been since I went outside?"
I thought, as my small hands instinctively grabbed onto the girl's clothes. I felt defenseless, weak, pathetic.
Even though I knew my fate was already inevitable, I couldn't help but believe that perhaps she would feel compassion. Maybe I still had hope.
The woman didn't look at me until we reached an alley. Unlike the pristine streets I had recently traveled, this alley was full of trash.
I squeezed the fabric of the young woman's clothing between my frozen fingers. I couldn't help but feel scared.
Was she really going to abandon me there? In a filthy dump?
I looked at the dirty pile of garbage, then directed my gaze toward her.
Tears were also running down her cheek. I felt her arms trembling beneath me, not from the effort of having to carry me, but from dealing with what she had to do.
She really was young. Surely it wasn't easy for her either. Most people's hearts would break if they had to abandon a newborn to their fate.
There was doubt reflected in her crystalline green eyes, a doubt that for me meant hope.
I slowly stretched out my small arm, as if wanting to caress her cheek.
Maybe she would reconsider. Maybe she would take pity on me.
"I-I... I'm sorry!" she finally said, releasing me with the same haste with which she had let me fall.
I felt myself land on the garbage bags, which fortunately cushioned my fall.
"So they were just crocodile tears. She really didn't take pity on me."
I lamented internally as the stench began to envelop me, punishing my nose with an unpleasant smell.
It wasn't as exaggeratedly horrible a smell as I expected, perhaps because of how cold it was. But it still wasn't pleasant.
I started to struggle like a turtle turned upside down, but it was impossible to get out of that disadvantageous position.
I decided to stop moving while I hugged myself. It was less cold now, but the temperature was dangerously low.
I felt my limbs go numb. The warmth was leaving my body dangerously. If this continued, I would surely die of hypothermia in a few minutes.
I tried to move for a while longer but it was no use, so I simply stopped whimpering, accepting my fate.
"This really is a mess... After dying, I was reborn only to be abandoned among the trash."
I felt pathetic. I would die without any dignity, and surely no justice would be done for my death.
Disheartened, I began to notice something strange. The garbage around me seemed to give off a strange smoke. No, there was something more.
It was as if the smell itself was tangible, thickening the air. At first it looked like a veil of grayish smoke, but the more I looked, the more a hidden secret behind that phenomenon seemed to become clear.
I could see it. That smoke seemed to acquire a color... Brown? No, it was a mix between green and purple, but not brown.
"What is that supposed to be?"
It wasn't any color I had ever seen. I couldn't even put a name to it.
"Putrefaction."
That idea came to mind. For some reason my mind associated that smell with putrefaction.
It went beyond a simple word. It was also everything it implied: it was decomposition, or rather, that process found between death and life.
As I concentrated more, I could distinguish many smells, from food scraps to old clothes. As if each discarded element gave off a smell characteristic enough to reveal a specific identity.
I began to feel overwhelmed. So much information at once was overloading my delicate brain.
"What's happening to me?"
I wondered, puzzled.
Was it some kind of power? Or an intrinsic characteristic of living beings in this new world?
I wasn't sure, but there was one thing I was clear about: it was very interesting.
A fervent curiosity began to grow from within me, strong enough to forget that little by little I was dying from the cold.
My head turned upward, becoming entranced in that instant by the scene before me.
The snow fell delicately from a sky tinged with white.
Since when was the sky so beautiful?
The clouds wore a veil composed of hundreds of different shades. Each snowflake danced, reflecting the pale sunlight in a spectacle of white, blue, pink, and green colors.
It was as if the world were hundreds of times more colorful, as if it had appropriated the whimsical extravagance of an impressionist painting.
I was moved by the beauty of that landscape. I hadn't been reborn in another world. I had reincarnated in the very crystallization of fantasy.
"I want to see it... I want to see more of this world."
A wish was pronounced in my mind. A wish greater than simply wanting to start over.
I wanted to see this world. I wanted to discover every mystery this fantasy hid.
And for that, I couldn't let myself die.
"UWAAAAAAAAAAA!"
I screamed. I screamed louder than I ever had. With every ounce of strength my tiny lungs could muster, and all the power my throat allowed.
It started as an intense flame, but keeping that fire burning wasn't easy. Little by little my body grew weaker. I no longer had the strength even to cry.
I didn't want to give up, but my body simply wouldn't respond. My crying was replaced by a pathetic exhalation of air.
I relaxed my body, seeking to recharge my strength to try again. But something interrupted me.
"Danger!"
Thousands of voices began to sound in my head, though at the same time, I didn't even know if I could call them voices.
They were like thousands of small signals that bombarded my brain with danger messages.
Like silent messages, devoid of all words, but which for some reason I could interpret.
"Am I going crazy?"
I thought, my own thoughts drowned out by hundreds of sudden messages. My small fists clenched tightly as I uselessly tried to silence those "voices."
I moved my head trying to find the source of that racket. For a few seconds I thought I saw small specks of white and golden light filling the air.
Swoosh.
A sound broke through the fog of "silent sound" that lashed my head.
"What was that?"
My eyes opened wide in the direction where the noise came from. With some effort I managed to lean forward to better see the scene.
My heart raced when I saw it. A white mass moving through the garbage, sliding toward me.
My muscles tensed. I had been completely paralyzed by fear.
In my mind I remembered that man's words: "the rats will have a feast with it."
"That can't be a rat, right?"
I thought, seized by panic. The creature was much larger than a common rat. The mass was even bigger than a cat.
The animal had already traveled halfway down the alley toward me. I had to flee now.
I turned around desperately, trying to grab onto the garbage bag to escape. But attempting to climb wasn't realistic. No matter how much I tried, my body was too weak for it.
My body tensed again when I heard something push the garbage forcefully. The creature had jumped, emitting a sharp screech from its mouth.
In that moment I knew. There was no longer any hope. That dump would be my tomb, and there was nothing I could do about it.